Both campaigns flail wildly, hustling to get to the magic number of votes while fighting off an insurgent campaign from a party elder who’s only still in the race because he believes chaos-fearing delegates will turn their lonely eyes to him, the voice of reasoned experience, in their time of crisis. John Kasich, anyone?

The Coalition Gambit

Before the West Wing convention starts, Russell offers the vice presidency to Santos as a means to shore up support and unify the party. If the two strongest players join forces, contested-convention chaos can be avoided. In real life, Trump/Cruz as a ticket feels as awkward as putting on a wet bathing suit, but it might be an attractive offer for someone running second in the delegate count because it would theoretically set him up as the presumptive nominee four years later.

For that to happen, though, egos and the typical gamesmanship of using the vice-presidential nominee to balance the ticket would have to be put aside. So, good luck. The West Wing isn’t interested in the scenario either; Santos turns Russell down, and the convention begins down the steep slope of screaming pageantry.

The Surprise Candidate

The open conventions in House of Cards and The West Wing both lead to new candidates emerging from the convention floor to throw more confusing hats into the ring.

Frank Underwood is blindsided when delegates—frustrated by getting nowhere on the vice presidential nomination—suggest his job also be put on the chopping block after a tumultuous primary season. It’s a minor annoyance that plays into the show’s favorite theme of power’s fragility, and Frank solves it by getting his wife’s main opponent to drop out altogether.

What happens in The West Wing, on the other hand, could very well happen in real life. Without a decision—and with television networks threatening to cut to reruns of Law and Order—a completely new candidate (Pennsylvania governor Eric Baker) appears on the convention floor surrounded by “Draft Baker” signs, offering to right the party ship with broad, centrist appeal. A guy who was wholly absent from primary season popping up to become the nominee from left field? Why do you think you’ve heard Paul Ryan’s name so much lately?

On the show, Baker loses his bid. A secret family illness comes to light, the campaigns wring their hands over whether to leak it to the press, and ultimately good-hearted concerns about Baker not getting the microscope treatment of primary season keep him from gaining momentum. That wouldn’t be a problem for former vice-presidential candidate Ryan, or even Rubio or Jeb! if they opted to jump back in. I, for one, can’t wait for a small sea of “Draft Carson” signs to hit the convention floor and the sleepy, delusional speech that follows.

You Can’t Fight in Here. This Is the War Room.

Before The West Wing’s fictional convention, the president’s chief of staff Leo McGarry laments the way the party will be seen compared to the Republican Convention. “Four days of Swiss watch precision. We get a pie fight.”

The show manages to get Santos in the White House after all, but disunity going into the convention almost never bodes well for the party—not necessarily because they look unorganized, but because it reveals fundamental divisions that can’t be reconciled by a single force. The pie fight (or, in Trump’s case, potential fist fight) is solved both in The West Wing and House of Cards by the soaring magic of one outstanding speech. It’s no surprise that television writers would believe in the power of words.

Claire Underwood convinces the crowd (and ostensibly the voting viewers at home) to accept a husband-wife presidential ticket with a harrowing speech about what losing loved ones has taught her about where to place her faith. It suggests that personal electability problems can be brushed aside with the soaring poetry of emotionally weaponized lies. Santos, on the opposite end of the spectrum of earnestness, earns the convention’s (and the influence-wielding president’s) support by eschewing cynicism and imploring voters to choose the candidate who most shares their ideals and vision for the country. After all the closed-room horse trading, he asks us all to listen to our hearts, to the sound of thunderous applause.

As for the impending G.O.P. convention, we can bet on hearing some stirring speeches. We may also need to prep a convention Bingo card for candidates joining forces, surprising new contenders, deals hurriedly shouted over a strained cell-phone network, back-room agreements being brokered, out-of-the-blue endorsements, and maybe a few thrown punches.

Oh, and balloons. There will definitely be balloons.