Once upon a time, in a magical place called Washington D.C., all sorts of animals lived together in a melting pot of fun and freedom. They called their home the Hundred Acre Lawn. Most days were spent playing together on the Lawn, splashing in the reflecting pools or having a go of Hide-and-Seek in the museums. But sometimes it was different. Sometimes the animals didn’t get along at all. Sometimes it was election time. Our story begins during one such time.

Prickles the porcupine hated elections.

“It just makes everyone mad at each other, and doesn’t ever solve anything!” Prickles thought to himself as he moped on his bench beside the Library of Congress. “Why even bother with it at all! If I choose one thing, half of my friends won’t like me anymore, and if I choose a different thing, then the other half won’t like me!”

He put his head in his paws and stared at the ground. The faces of all his friends floated up in his mind, and he just felt sad. His thoughts lingered on each in turn. The wise old elephant, the proud eagle, the business-savvy piglet – and most of all his very best friend, Trigger the donkey. “Trigger is the strongest animal I know,” Prickles thought to himself. “She’s always willing to fight for what she believes in, and she never ever gives up.” Prickles had been smiling at the thought of his friend, but the happiness quickly drained from his face. “We used to be such a team. We used to be on the same side all the time! But these days… well, these days…”

Prickles clenched his fists at the sides of his head. “I just can’t support so much of what the humans on the Hill do! I want to keep my convictions and my friends – but what can I do? I’m trapped!” he muttered aloud.

And then, all of a sudden, Prickles realized exactly what he should do – and it wouldn’t even make anyone mad! Well, perhaps Sam… but Sam was a bit different after all.

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Sam the eagle spent most of his days perched atop the tallest building on the Hundred-Acre-Lawn, the Washington Monument. Most of his time was occupied by whispering manically to “The Government” through a discarded earpiece he found on Penn. Ave near the Big White House. Sam loved America and the American government more than anything, and election times were his very favorite times!

“Just smell that election air, Government!” Sam said to himself with much pomp. “I sure do hope that all the animals of the Lawn are as excited to vote as I am!”

Sam could see everything from his perch. He had seen Prickles moping on his bench, and he had seen Prickles run off into one of the museums. He often grew suspicious of the comings and goings of the different animals of the Hundred-Acre-Lawn, and now he was growing quite suspicious of Prickles – which made him start to feel suspicious in general.

“I’m starting to fear that some animals in our happy community don’t share my proper sense of democratic enthusiasm! Election times are important times, Government! We have to make sure that every animal votes.” Sam started to get visibly agitated, scanning the Lawn with increasingly frequent, frantic head moments. “Animals have to vote! We just have to, Government! That’s how it is, that’s how it is! We can’t let anyone ruin it – nope, nope, nope!”

Sam’s head movements and suspicious scanning reached such a fever pitch that he got dizzy and had to sit down. He got a bit sad and started to sniffle to himself. “Oh, G-Government! We c-can’t let them ruin it, nope nope! Wh-What are we going to do?” On this last word, Sam let out a mournful screech that made all of the Lawn’s two thousand, seven-hundred and thirty-two pigeons jump. He crumpled into a feathery heap and sniffled some more.

Suddenly he shot straight up. “What’s that, Government?” he said, holding his wing up to the earpiece, “You want me to intervene?” He shook his head and ruffled his feathers, all that sadness having turned to joy and pride. “Oh, boy! I have just the thing! No one will be able to ignore my message.“

He rummaged through his nest of discarded campaign signs (selected exclusively from candidates that won their races) and pulled out a set of long cylindrical objects with strings on the ends. He then pulled out a pair of dark sunglasses and placed them reverently on his head. “Ah, my favorite strategy – overwhelming force! … of argument!”

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After having succeeded in his plan for what to do about voting, Prickles the Porcupine felt happier than he ever had during election times, so he went looking for his friends.

“Hiya, Trigger!” Prickles called happily as he came across his donkey pal, but Trigger was looking absolutely miserable, frustration and fear etched on her kind face.

“What’s wrong, Trigger?” asked Prickles.

Trigger looked up briefly before returning to her sullen downward gaze. “Oh… it’s… it’s nothing,” she mumbled.

“Whatever it is, I want to help!” replied Prickles warmly. “Come on, Trigger, you can talk to me!” he added with a soft smile.

Trigger looked up at Prickles with a firm, wary glance, and then back at the ground. She knew her friend didn’t like to talk about what was bothering her, but he asked! He insisted! And it was just so much, just so UPSETTING, JUST – JUST –

“WE JUST CANNOT AFFORD TO ELECT TRUNK!” she blurted out, leaping up off the bench and pointing a sure hoof at Prickles. “IT’S MEAN AND IT’S DANGEROUS. AND I HOPE YOU AREN’T EVEN THINKING OF THROWING AWAY YOUR VOTE IN AN ELECTION THIS IMPORTANT!”

Prickles had frozen in shock from the outburst. Slowly he gathered his senses, recalling the beginning of the conversation and his proddings about wanting to help. He felt a twinge of shame, but mostly a familiar crushing sadness accompanied by a flood of memories detailing failed conversations.

“I don’t want to talk about that,” Prickles said flatly with downcast eyes.

“Then you don’t want to help,” spat Trigger, collapsing back to her spot on the bench.

“Don’t worry, Prickles!” came a booming voice from behind the two of them, “I of course understand why you do support electing my trunk!” It was Burke, the old elephant, his trunk dragging on the ground, twitching periodically. The poor elephant had lost control over it months before.

Trigger looked up angrily and snorted.

Prickles sensed danger and tried to head off a nasty confrontation. He started, “Now, Burke, I didn’t say anything like tha—“

“We just cannot afford to elect Hill,” interrupted Burke. “Hill is where the humans make laws. Nothing will change if we elect Hill. But my trunk offers a fresh start – a real opportunity for the animals of Hundred-Acre-Lawn. Yes-sir, a real opportunity for something new.”

“A real opportunity for something horrible,” interjected Trigger, arms crossed. “Since when are you in favor of change, anyway!”

“Since when are you in favor of the status quo, Trigger! Don’t accuse me of hypocrisy when you could say the same of yourself! Don’t forget that I don’t forget a thing. And don’t be so mean!” spat Burke.

“MEAN? You’re the mean one for even thinking about letting that… that monstrous thing lead us!”

“Now that just hurts my feelings, Trigger! I may be old, and I may have lost control over my trunk, but that doesn’t make it right to say things like that! Hmmpf! You’re just young and naïve. When you are older you’ll understand folks like me, yes you will. When you’re older.”

“How DARE you look down on me for my age!”

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME MONSTROUS!”

“I DIDN’T – I WAS TALKING ABOUT YOUR TRUNK!”

“OH I SUPPOSE THAT MAKES IT BETTER!”

Trigger and Burke were fully into it now. Their yells were getting louder and louder, and Prickles could tell they were getting angrier and angrier. They got so mad and so loud that Prickles couldn’t take it anymore. He covered his ears and shut his eyes tight. This is why Prickles hated election times.

A loud BANG – way louder than the yells of either Burke or Trigger – shook Prickles out of his self-pity, and he looked around for the source.

Sam the eagle was setting off fireworks all over the Hundred-Acre-Lawn. Some of them would BANG and leave behind a normal burst of color. But others would go BOOM and leave a single word in the sky, “VOTE,” written in glittering sparkles. The BOOMS and BANGS were so loud that the animals felt the vibrations in their chests. Sam was taken to setting off a firework or two quite often to express his love for America, but this was a new level of annoying.

Trigger and Burke set aside their differences for the moment and redirected their rage at a common annoyance.

“SAM!”

“SAM STOP IT!”

“SAM WE ARE ALL VOTING JUST STOP!”

Sam of course could not hear them at all, but luckily for the other animals ran out of fireworks in short order. He swooped down towards his friends, a look of satisfaction spread across his beak.

“Sam, we are all voting,” Trigger stated with exasperation, rubbing her temples with her hooves.

“Wonderful!” shouted Sam. He looked positively overjoyed. He removed his dark sunglasses and beamed at all the other animals. “Just wonderful! I knew my efforts wouldn’t be in vain!”

The angry expressions on the faces of the others were lost on poor Sam.

“So good to know that we’re all on the same page!” he exclaimed with warmth and bombast.

“WE ARE NOT ALL ON THE SAME PAGE!” screamed Burke and Trigger simultaneously.

Prickles chuckled to himself.

“STOP LAUGHING!” Trigger snapped. “Just who are you voting for anyway?”

Prickles hesitated. Earlier, he had felt great about his plan. Now he was having second thoughts. It was too late to change it now, in any case. He steeled himself and gave his answer, “I’m not.”

“Not voting for Hill? Smart lad!” said Burke.

“No, no! I’m not voting,” replied Prickles.

All the other animals erupted simultaneously.

“You WHAT?”

“You can’t do that!”

“Wow, Prickles. Just wow.”

“SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH”

Trigger tried to quickly take control of the situation so Sam wouldn’t completely lose it again.

“Everyone has to vote, Prickles. We have to know who to be friends with. Even Capitalist Piglet votes.” Trigger put her hooves to her mouth and called out, “Heeeey, Capitalist Pigleeet! Capitalist Pigleeet, where are youuuuu!”

“Present!” a small voice called from behind Burke. He was a small, small pig with big, big ambitions. But he was so nervous and anxious all the time, and believed so little in himself, that he was always looking for a way to game the system in his favor.

“You’ve been here the whole time?!” Trigger exclaimed. She looked more concerned than angry.

“Oh d…d-darn. I suppose I have. I… I wanted to hear how the c-conversation was going to go.”

“Nevermind that,” said Trigger, pushing her concern to the side for now. “Who are you voting for?”

Capitalist Piglet was a wreck. All the animals’ eyes were on him, and he was trembling and sweating. He looked at Prickles, though, and pulled himself together. “I’m voting for both Hill and Trunk,” he said with what for a nervous piglet passes for boldness. He then trailed off, barely audibly, “That way… t-that way everyone w-will like me.”

This time it was Sam that spoke first. “You can’t do that, Capitalist Piglet. Every animal gets one vote. That’s democracy. That’s what The Government wants.”

“N-no I found a way! I paid Prickles for his vote!”

“YOU WHAT?” spat Trigger – but she wasn’t looking at Capitalist Piglet. She was staring straight at Prickles. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU, PRICKLES,” she shouted, and stormed off with heavy hoof-falls.

“But this way everyone wins!” Prickles tried to call after her. “This way no one can blame me and we can all be friends, don’t you see!”

Trigger didn’t turn. Prickles slumped into a heap on the ground. His plan was a spectacular mess. “I hate election times,” he said to himself.

He sat in his sadness for what felt like hours. Maybe there was no way around election times. Maybe he just had to swallow his pride and his principles, and just pick one or the other like everyone else. Maybe some people just weren’t meant to be friends. Maybe you had to pick and choose. Maybe you had to cross some people off. Maybe election times were as good a time as any for that to happen.

Suddenly Prickles felt a wriggling next to him and jumped up in horror.

It was Burke’s trunk. “Jeez, Burke!” shouted Prickles angrily. “Watch it with that thing!”

Burke hadn’t heard. He was staring off after Trigger, lost in his own memories.

“Trigger and I used to have long talks about things all the time,” the old elephant said. “We didn’t always agree, but we always had good talks. Sometimes we even helped each other understand something better, or at least differently.” He hung his head low, causing more of his trunk to coil on the ground – lifeless save for the twitching. “Now all we do is fight, fight, fight!” Burke looked as sad and tired as he ever had, staring at the ground under his trunk. “I know I’m old. I know I tend to think differently than you younger animals. But isn’t that good? Isn’t it good to have someone to talk to who thinks a bit differently?”

Prickles saw a few lonely tears forming in Burkes small, cloudy eyes.

“Everyone thinks I’m old and useless! At least since I lost control of my trunk people notice me again!” Burke said through his sniffles.

Prickles stared at the elephant for a long time. There were things he liked about Burke, and there were things he didn’t. But he certainly didn’t want Burke to feel this sad all the time.

“Burke, of course it is good to have you around,” said Prickles in a soft voice. “Everyone needs to have someone to talk to who thinks in a different way from themselves.” Prickles looked down at the twitching trunk.

“But to be completely honest your trunk looks like it could grab someone at any time. Like, violently.”

Burke started to turn red, his brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to give Prickles an angry piece of his very capable mind – but all of a sudden he turned ashen and sank to the ground.

“I know,” he said, watching his trunk wriggle wildly in the grass, smashing a flower, “but people notice me again. And I’m so lonely all the time.”

Prickles thought for a moment and came up with a new plan – a better plan. “Hey Burke, why don’t I go find Trigger, and maybe we can all talk about this together!” offered Prickles with a smile.

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The sun was just starting to set on the Hundred-Acre-Lawn when Prickles found Trigger. She was fuming on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

Prickles approached gingerly. “Hey Trigger…” he said with hesitance.

Trigger snorted and turned her snout away.

Prickles sighed and paused, trying to collect the right words to say – the words that would let them stay friends. “I just miss how it used to be, Trigger. We used to protest what the humans on Hill do. We used to protest together all the time! Remember when we elected Shrub? And the humans were doing all sorts of bombing and Sam was dropping fireworks everywhere to be like them? We helped put a stop to it! We made a difference together! But now you want me to support the very Hill where humans make all sorts of bad laws and bad choices and, and – AUGH!” Prickles stopped. He was starting to feel angry himself. He hated election times. “I just miss those times when we would work together.”

Trigger erupted. “Those times are OVER, Prickles! That was the past. I want to talk about what we’re voting on right now! This election!”

Prickles looked away.

“It must be so easy for you Prickles!” spat Trigger. “You act all above-it-all, but you just detract,” she said, ending on the verge of tears. “What do you support, Prickles? Do you actually support anything?” Trigger crossed her hooves and started to whimper softly. “At least I’m trying to make the best choice I can with the options we realistically have!”

Prickles looked back at Trigger, who was now crying into her hooves. He stared down at the ground for quite some time. Slowly the other animals gathered around them on the steps. Sam opened his beak to break the silence, but Burke caught his eye, shaking his head “no” with a practiced talent for restraint. Capitalist Piglet looked on nervously, wondering which way this would go.

“Maybe you’re right, Trigger” said Prickles, still looking at the ground. “Maybe I don’t really support anything to do with these political things – with elections and wars and everything else. It’s easy for me to sit back and criticize the things that other people support when I don’t risk the same.” Prickles walked over to Trigger and put his paw on her hoof. “But I do know one thing that I support with all my heart, and that’s being best friends with you,” he said with a smile.

“Really?” said Trigger, her ears pricking up and a small smile breaching her lips.

“THEN VOTE FOR HILL!” she exclaimed with happy confidence.

Prickles’ heart sank.

“NO, VOTE TRUNK!” boomed Burke as he lumbered over, his earlier look of concern having evaporated.

“HILL!”

“TRUNK!”

“HILL!”

“TRUNK!”

“HILL!”

“TRUNK!”

“HILL!”

“TRUNK!”

Prickles rubbed his temples and sighed, “Sorry Capitalist Piglet, I’ve changed my mind. You can’t buy my vote.”

Capitalist Piglet started, “What?! Then I… t-then I won’t be able to vote for both! T-then I can’t b-be sure that everyone will like me! Oh.. oh d-dang! Oh no!”

Sam noticed his chance and swooped in. “It’s alright, Capitalist Piglet!” he said with warmth and gusto. “The Government likes everyone who votes at all! And a friend of the Government is a friend of mine! I’ll share with you how I vote, young pig! See, no matter what, I always vote. And no matter what, I never tell anyone who I voted for! I keep my vote a secret, and I support whoever wins! After all, the Government’s still the Government! There are over two million and seven hundred thousand federal employees! And I support each and every one!”

Prickles’ mouth dropped. “You know what, Sam, that actually made a lot of sense. I wonder if we are more alike than I tend to think.”

Sam leaped towards Prickles with both wings outstretched. “So you support the government no matter what?!” he said with manic, yet friendly glee.

“No, no… more like the opposite,” laughed Prickles, though with much more softness in his voice than how he usually spoke to Sam.

Sam looked confused for a moment, but snapped out of it and returned to his joyful self. “So, Prickles! Since you aren’t selling your vote – who are you voting for?”

Prickles looked at his friends – two still fighting, and two who found a way to like each other in spite of it being election time. He stared off towards Capitol Hill for a moment before a wry smile flashed upon his muzzle. Prickles repeated himself, this time with confidence: “I’m not!”

THE END