Trump campaign signs
sprout everywhere in Virginia City, Nevada, home of Harry Reid-haters and other
vaguely educated antediluvians. As I ate lunch in a C Street restaurant, I saw a redneck stuffing
this grammar-challenged letter into mailboxes. Curious, I took one. From the tipsy but fierce sincerity on the guy’s face, I don’t think he was kidding.
My most Honored Brothers
in Christ
Last night, Our loving God
touched my Dreams, compelling Us to support his present-day Prophet, Donald
John Trump Sr. seeking the Presidency. Without spirited Effort, the forces of
Iniquity surely lead this Country farther and deeper into Wickedness.
In order to help Prophet
Trump Triumph in realms where Unbelievers thrive, we must Conjure ways to make
our Womenfolk accept the Righteousness of the Lord’s Word.
Because the Republic
requires Secretcy Ballots, Evil Touched Womenfolk — mothers, wives,
daughters, sisters — pledge to Vote as God Councils through Us but in the
Voting Booth these weak-minded Females turn their Backs on our Loving God.
God-fearing Womens’s
stubborn Streak assault against their very Souls! We must use that
Stubbornness to correct their Thoughts and bring them to Christ.
And to Prophet Trump on
Election Day.
I Seek Ideas to Save
Female Souls. And This Great Country. Also, funds to rent Piper’s Opera House
for a meeting to work on our Soul-saving plan. And other funds to distribute
the Word of God to our Brethren across the Republic before its too Late.
Signed, Wilkins Wolfinger,
Esq.
I live in the new-painted
Green house two downhill from the railroad Depot. No telephone yet. No knocking before 6:30am
-30-
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