Offices of Dwight Angelo, P.C.
12000 W Crater, Detroit FEMA Zone 6, MI 48208
To: Steve Vickers
Cc: Maria Chmelewski
Date: August 16, 2083 alt +37u
Subject: Angelo For Corrupt Time
Steve, we've got a situation here. Perry's attempts to normalize the temporal stream and collapse the prime quantum field is bad news, and I mean that in the worst possible way. Think deep-dicking for all our constituents. The Jurassic Consortium alone would hang us by our balls from the nearest capirona branch and their only concern is cornering the trade in stegosaurus meat. I don't need to remind you what those Viking bastards in alt-tenth century Britain will do to us. Think axes and fire, my friend, axes and fire.
We need to circle our wagons and start the campaign before they can get any more momentum. Their crazy talk about the environmental side-effects of time-splitting is beginning to stir up the masses. As if we really needed only one moon and a single, boring periodic table of elements. Putting a ban on genetically-modified air? Luddite nonsense!
Start gathering the troops for our campaign. It's high time that I ran for office and if I want to have any chance in the '84-alt-+37u election "year", things need to get kicking, ASAP. We need to get our fingers in before Perry funds any more time-cop initiatives. It's bad enough that alt-Schwarzenegger is already engaged in forty-seven narratives, we don't need that Van Damme guy or any of his alternates mucking things up any worse in any of the others. He's already managed to collapse half of Lemuria into non-existence.
Start with the cockroach vote. If we can get them on our side, we have most of the four-thousandth millenium locked up tight, including the radioactive mutants and the Mormons. I want a spot on Good Morning, Northwest Territories. Get Walter Cronkite on the phone and get me a meeting with NBC's Talking Heads—the cybernetically-enhanced frozen brains, not the band this time. I've got other ideas for David Byrne, even if the only version of him still existing is the one with arachnid legs and purple antenna.
Raise the zombies and get them voting early and as often as possible.
I want you to find Abraham Lincoln, or at least the most copacetic version of him available, get him on retainer. I want him to start banging out speeches in slow-time, so we have a speech for every possible time-narrative. If you have to jump back forty straight-line years and create a possibility from scratch to get the right Lincoln, then do it.
I want you to revive the brain imprint of JFK—yes, the one who went all Rambo on Gorbachev during the Imprimatur Summit. He's edgy and has a disturbing tendency towards cannibalistic fits, but he's the best media guy available to us. Have him meet up with our tech guys to make sure my holograms look at least nominally human. I don't want a repeat of the Howard Dean tentacle fiasco this time. If I smell anything like that in the air again, heads are going to roll. Don't test me on this, no matter how funny you think it might be.
And, Maria? Call Dario and get some banners made: big bold colors, engage at least seven dimensions, eight would be better. "Angelo For Corrupt Time" has a nice ring to it, right? Make it so.
We can win this. We have to win this, not only for our constituents, but also for the good of Hyper-America and manifold time. And remember, normality is for chumps.