The two campaigns attempt to coexist, surviving their unfortunate circumstance by embarking on separate missions ahead of the forthcoming Presidential debate: for Portia's team, the hunt for the perfect attire, and for Treville's, the plundering of their mental depths to find fresh genius. Portia likes a red dress; Dorothy is a mess; Anne is depressed by their inability to impress. Henry jokes, Treville banters, and Alex pokes at being a ranter. The two sides develop friction, and clash in a well-intentioned bout of trash talking that spins wildly out of control.
That was pretty good, right? Indeed! I adored your experimental dipping into rhyme to offer the description an additional hint of ephemeral grace and poetry. Well, I think you did a great job of being descripty and pretty-words-y without writing sentences so long nobody could remember what the beginning of the sentence was. Like that one? Ha ha, you got me. We did good. I think we did indeed... my friend.
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