Mrs. Gable sat in her cozy den, a cup of Earl Grey tea steaming gently on the small table beside her armchair. She held her iPad in her lap, her expression one of grandmotherly disapproval. She was reading the Upshur County Community Forum, and she did not like what she saw. The coordinated, nasty attacks on the mysterious "Bucky Watcher" struck her as undignified.
This Hardwick fellow is a fool, she thought, her lips pursed in a thin line as she read his paranoid statement about "outside interests." You don't attack an idea with paranoia. You attack it with a better idea. And this Milla Slater... a bully. All sharp edges and condescension. And the farmer... well, the farmer at least seems honest, but he's clearly out of his depth. Her respect for Bucky Watcher was rooted in the persona's perceived competence—the anonymous hero who had exposed Mayor Thompson's involvement in the Minuteman Musket Heist of '98, and may have even driven the mayor to the point where he had written a public confession. Bucky Watcher was a person of action, not empty words.
Deciding that action must be taken, she navigated to the forum's member list and found the name of the young woman who had started this wonderful movement in the first place. Jessica Lange. Mrs. Gable remembered her from The Daily Grind; a bright, sharp girl. She opened the Facebook Messenger app and, with the careful precision of one who does not trust touchscreens, began to type.
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[Eleanor Gable]: "Good morning, Jessica. This is Eleanor Gable. We have not been formally introduced, but I believe we have a mutual interest in the integrity of the upcoming mayoral election."
At The Daily Grind, between serving a complicated order for a half-caff, extra-hot, no-foam latte, Jessica Lange's phone buzzed. She saw the message from a name she recognized as one of the town's most respected matriarchs. She quickly typed a reply.
[Jessica Lange]: "Hi Mrs. Gable! Wow, of course I know who you are! My grandma is in your bridge club. What's up?"
[Eleanor Gable]: "I am concerned about the recent smear campaigns against our preferred candidate. It is unbecoming of our town. I believe Mr. Watcher needs a proper defense team. A two-person campaign committee, if you will."
Jessica's eyes went wide. A grin spread across her face. This was getting interesting.
[Jessica Lange]: "I am 1000% in. What's the plan?"
[Eleanor Gable]: "You, my dear, seem to understand the new-fangled online battlefield. I will handle the more traditional avenues. A two-pronged approach, I believe, is in order."
Jessica Lange, Bucky Watcher's newly-self-appointed unofficial online campaign manager, got to work. During a slow period between the morning coffee rush and the lunch crowd, she opened a graphic design app on her laptop. She was a digital native, and this was her battlefield. It was time for some meme warfare. Okay, she thought, a mischievous glint in her eye. Mayor Thompson is gone. Now to take out the trash.
Her first creation was a positive branding message. She took the blurry deer picture, added a soft, golden halo above its head, and wrote a simple slogan underneath in a clean, elegant font.
"Bucky Watcher: Integrity. Honesty. Also, a Deer."
Her next series was more aggressive. It was a direct counter-attack. She created a triptych of anti-candidate memes. The first was a picture of the traffic jam from Ralph Hardwick's disastrous press conference, with the caption: "Ralph Hardwick: A Leader Who's Going Nowhere". The second was the infamous bingo photo of Milla Slater scowling behind a joyful Misty Woody. The caption: "Milla Slater: Celebrating Your Success (Behind Your Back)". The final one was a picture of the nasty pineapple-and-anchovy pizza from Skip Jenkins's event. The caption: "Skip Jenkins: Bold Topping Choices, Questionable Leadership".
She unleashed the images onto the forum. They immediately went viral.
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While Jessica was fighting the war on the internet, Mrs. Gable was engaging in a more traditional form of media combat. She sat at her antique writing desk, a beautiful piece of dark cherry wood that had belonged to her late husband, Arthur. She took out a cream-colored sheet of stationery and her favorite pen.
She was not interested in memes. She was interested in character. A well-reasoned argument, she thought, is more powerful than childish taunts. She began to compose an eloquent "Letter to the Editor" for the Buckhannnon Record Delta. She didn't attack the other candidates directly; that would be unladylike. Instead, she praised the town's need for a leader with quiet competence and integrity, a leader who didn't need to shout to be heard. She praised the dignity of silence and competence, the very qualities that the mysterious Bucky Watcher seemed to embody. The letter was a work of polite, civil, and effective political persuasion.
It was published on the newspaper's website that afternoon and was widely praised for its sincerity and class.
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In his bedroom, Christopher Day watched this two-pronged attack unfold with a sense of despair. He saw Jessica's devastatingly effective memes spreading like wildfire. Oh no. That's a good one. That's a really good one. Jessica, you're a genius. Please stop being a genius.
Then he saw the link to Mrs. Gable's letter, shared with the caption "Mrs. Gable gets it." He read it, and his despair deepened. Jessica's memes were funny, but Mrs. Gable's letter gave the movement legitimacy. It made it sound real. She's... she's making it sound like a real campaign! he thought, his stomach twisting into a knot. She's talking about integrity and competence! She's turning the joke into a serious political platform! The people he had helped; two new, bright spots in his otherwise solitary existence, were now the architects of his political prison. It was a betrayal born of kindness.
As he was reeling from this well-intentioned backstabbing, his HUD pinged with a new notification.
[Ally Action Detected! Jessica Lange and Eleanor Gable are actively campaigning on User's behalf.]
A new temporary buff appeared on his status screen.
[Grassroots Support: +10% to all positive polling momentum for 48 hours.]
"You have got to be kidding me," he whispered to the empty room. "A buff? You're giving me a buff for this? Stop helping! You're making it worse!"
The combined effect of the online and traditional campaigns was a knockout blow. The other candidates' clumsy smear campaigns were neutralized. The narrative in the town was now firmly, irrevocably set: Bucky Watcher was the dignified, silent, and competent people's champion, and the other candidates were a pack of petty, bickering fools.
He looked at the new nightly tracking poll on the Record Delta's website, a masochistic habit that had become a part of his daily routine. He refreshed the page, hoping, praying, to see his numbers finally start to fall.
Bucky Watcher was now polling at an incredible 87%.
A news alert then announced the final mayoral debate, scheduled for the next night at the high school auditorium. The alert mentioned that, in honor of the clear and undisputed front-runner, a chair would be left empty on the stage for Bucky Watcher.
He stared at the screen, a whole new level of despair washing over him. His campaign was now a runaway train. And his friends, his loyal and effective allies, were shoveling coal into the engine with a cheerful, determined glee. And his absence was now a more powerful political statement than his opponents' presence.