You can feel the life draining from your body at the hands of the Gipper. Now you know how it feels to be the dream that was once America, which was also strangled by this hooligan. Come to think of it, you're not even sure if that's an opinion you have? You are just a simple jester after all, unburdened by any sense of political literacy or critical thoughts. You suspect the authors of this work may be shoehorning political commentary into your adventure, which you need about as much as you need this washed up Hollywood actor's meaty paws crushing your windpipe. You hope that your friends can see how blue you're turning, and rush to your aid… except that due to being a Fünke jester, you already blue yourself, so unfortunately there just doesn't appear to be much urgency. Looks like you're on your own again. You'll have to try being another jester before you die.
Next.
