Nick Haynes was ready for a civil war if Hillary Clinton won the election.

59% think too many people are easily offended in political debates.

“When you drive down here and you see any liberals on the way, you should just run them over,” he laughs.

His voice is as you might expect from a former biker with a too strong love for alcohol, who has now turned sober and drives a truck with waist in New Jersey.

It’s November, just a few days before what’s going to be a historical election in the U.S. Mr. Haynes has prepared for this moment for months, tweeting an average 57 times a day, usually about the «corrupt system», «biased media», «killary» and his favourite: Mr. Donald J. Trump.

Voting for Hillary is the same as killing ur own children! Get ready for civil war if that cunt gets in. Hillary supporters will be 1st 2 go!

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Now he’s sitting in a small diner in a sleepy town in Pennsylvania. He wears baggy camouflage pants, the infamous red Trump cap saying «Make America Great Again» and has a loaded 9mm gun in his pocket. Just in case, he says.

“We’re screwed if she wins. If you look up scumbag in the dictionary you’ll see a picture of her. I really hope Trump pulls it off, man.”

His son Zach (14) nods.

“I debate because if I don’t say anything, people who are against the Second Amendment and people who spread lies will win the arguments. If I don’t fight back when somebody claims something, then they will win the argument.”

“Look at all those crybaby pussy American elites who don’t have to worry about money and just rant on with their views in debates. Fuck those scumbags who think they are better than the average American.”

Mr. Haynes started debating online a few years ago, but before that, when he was in a biker club, the debates would be somewhat different.

“When I was younger, I often got in arguments, you could say, with cops and other authorities. I think I usually won the argument.”

The day is here. It’s been months of election tours, scandals and polarized debate. Just a few kilometers away, a seven meter tall sign of Hillary roars along the highway, saying «She belongs in prison, not the white house». Nick drives past that sign every day on his way to work in New Jersey, a commute that takes him two and a half hours every day.

“Holy shit, the line is big,” he erupts when seeing the line outside his polling station, a small church turned balloting place for the day.

“I should have brought a walker, then we could have snuck up front,” he tells his son Zach, who is tagging along.

It only takes a few minutes of queuing before Mr. Haynes starts talking to a middleaged man standing next to him wearing a blue shirt and short cut hair.

“The last president we had was worthless as well. We need Trump, man,” Mr. Haynes says.

“I don’t know. Trump is kind of a wild card,” the blue-shirt-man says. “Like his thoughts on health care and women, talking about grabbing a woman by the «belly bush» and so on,” he adds.

“Come on, have you never talked about women like that in a bar?”

“No!” He erupts.

The line crawls forward.

“Well, you could flip a coin?” Mr. Haynes suggests.

“No, I’ve made up my mind. I’m going to hold my nose while casting my vote for Mrs. Clinton, but she’s the best choice.”

“She’s going to get us killed. If you have kids they are going to get killed because of her,” Mr. Haynes says while going in.

At 8:01PM he posts a tweet.

«I just voted for TRUMP in Pennsylvania and everyone but 1 person in line is for the scumbag! Trump gonna win by a landslide!»

The tweet gets one like.

On the way home he picks up some pizza and heads back home to follow the remainder of the election night on TV.

Mr. Haynes’ house is covered with a big banner saying «Trump». As he arrives back home, 12 surveillance cameras surrounding the building are there to greet him. .

“It was really rough growing up. My parents got divorced when I was five and I had to stay with my father in New Jersey. When I was 16 years old I ran away from home and haven’t looked back. It’s been four-five years since I last talked to my father.”

Tattoos covers both of his arms. On the back of his T-shirt, the writing says «Shoot Informants, not drugs»

“It’s going to be close, man!”

Mr. Haynes downs a slice of pizza. His three daughters are lying next to him on the coach, all gazing down at their phones.

“Holy shit, he’s up in Wisconsin!”

It’s late in the night when the predictions turn and the major news organizations say Trump is a likely winner. That Hillary, the favorite, is lagging behind.

When Mr. Haynes goes to bed, the results are still not clear.

The following day, it’s pouring down outside. The clouds are like a dull, gray veil over the sky — similar to the look on Hillary Clintons face as she announces her loss.

“I know how disappointed you feel, because I feel it too. And so do tens of millions of Americans who invested their hopes and dreams in this effort. This is painful, and it will be for a long time,” Mrs. Clinton says.

Mr. Haynes sits at a Chinese restaurant eating fried rice, watching Mrs. Clinton on the TV.

“She has raped the country. I hope they would come out and arrest her now. But I’m still happy. It’s the first time since 9/11 that I feel that our country is back on track, back where it belongs.”

He takes a sip of his coke.

“Last night I thought that Trump was going to win by a landslide, and he sure did. I’m so proud of my country now. The media sucked. He just kept standing there and he kicked their asses, Mr Haynes says.”