You call your campaign manager and ask him to get you a spot on Larry King Live to announce that you are running for president. He informs you that it is not the best time to do that because, at the request of his wife Elizabeth Dole, some doctor did an autopsy of Bob Dole's body and found traces of poison. He goes on to tell you that since you were the last person seen talking to Dole while he was alive, that you may be treated as the top suspect, and you should definitely hang low for awhile. Feeling a bit uneasy, you agree to hang low for awhile.
Two days later, while you are sitting home watching Three's Company reruns, two cops break down the door to your apartment and arrest you at gun-point. It seems that there were video cameras all over the party, and they caught you slipping Dole the poison on videotape. It looks like you are going to be spending the rest of your life in a maximum security prison. And when the going got tough, your campaign manager/lawyer got going, and he left with all your aunt's money. He's living in Switzerland now, and he plans on opening a bunch of driving ranges all across the country, so he can introduce the Swiss to the marvels of miniature golf.
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