Ah, Alaska. It's a stronghold for right-wing politics. Even more so, now that Sarah Palin's famous. Indeed, this state could stand to be reminded of just how much their peasants and scapegoats matter.

It all begins in Anchorage. Here, the airport receives a lot of traffic; a lot more than a lot of airports farther south, east, or west.

There are peasants that clear the runways. There are peasants in the towers, that tell the pilots how to land. There are peasants that direct the planes to the docks. There are peasants who unload the cargo holds of the more specialized planes.

In the winter, early spring, and late autumn, there are peasants who drive the snow plows. There are peasants who throw salt out on the runways, to keep the snow from reaccumulating.

In the terminal, there are peasants who clean the restrooms...and everything else in general. There are peasants who stock the baggage claim conveyor belt. There are peasants who sell food to hungry travelers. There are peasants, in the ceiling, who make announcements via a microphone.

It's sad to think that all of these handicapped loners are silenced by the politics of big business and whatever religion that makes it all the way from Alaska to the capital of the NAU. With luck, though, President Underwood's visit to Anchorage could change that...

Here, the President makes another speech. Many of the airport's peasants and scapegoats turn up...as do many of the same who slave away at the port docks, farther northeast.

He speaks of how much Alaskan peasants and scapegoats suffer. He speaks of how their jobs don't pay them enough, in a world where a person's job is everything they are. He speaks of the social hardships that come from living in one of the NAU's least-populated states; how no one wants to live here, unless they're an old-timer who still seems to think there's gold in them there rivers...as if they still thought the president was still William fucking McKinley. He speaks of how big Alaskan business steals from the welfare of the peasants that keep this state sane, and hence becomes the vampires of its CEOs' daughters' favorite Twilight stories; whichever one made its respective movie look like a crappy B movie from a time Sarah Palin slept in a pink blanket, dreaming of an alternate future where she became a battle axe, and hunted poor Todd with a bear gun...

In heated homes all over Anchorage, such peasants rest, snore, and dread the time they've got to go back to work. As happy as they are, they still hate their jobs. They're never in control when they're at work. What's even worse, the big business scapegoats them, and mocks them for not being able to specialize in anything harder than cleaning a toilet.

Some of them watch President Underwood's speech on TV. Others snore, take long naps, and wish that life were better...

Here, the moose come at night. They leave more than a mark wherever they go. Shockingly, nobody bothers to shoot them. OTOH, this is the city; some urban folk might not take too kindly to having bullets or shells winging through their backyards...or worse yet, their front ones...

The moose rampage through town, clumsily. They're not judged...but they're not welcomed, either. At least they've got it better than the city's peasants. They're always judged by big business. Heck; a lot of them are even judged by each other. In the end, there's just no community among brothers.

In a heated home, such a peasant man dreads his next day of work. He buries himself in bedding, and tries to keep himself sedated. He feels like going crazy. But he dares not; he needs what energy he collects for his job...and for his coworkers who'll need more of his help than how much any human being should be allowed to rely on another.

From his bedroom ceiling, a robotic spider stands. With eight legs, he clings to the ceiling, and stands on it as a human would stand on a right-side-up surface.

From his thorax, a cable hangs. At its end, like a pendulum, Zoe Barnes hangs. She's still a ten thousandth her size. And she's still collecting propaganda material that'll bring glory to her domina and permanent humility to his enemies.

Zoe's upside down. She's in revealing black lingerie. She's intimidated by her huge robotic spider-like mount...but she keeps it under control...somehow. Every now and then, the robotic spider sends electricity through the cable, shocking little Zoe and causing her to scream.

Underwood's given her an upgrade: vibrating panties. He activates them, whenever he needs a break from the fun of shocking her and making her squeal, like the bug she's been ever since before she became the President's whore.

Somehow, all while being distracted by the most harmful and scary of her domina's charm, Zoe collects enough propaganda to keep him on the pedestal he's on...both in the NAU, and in her heart. She knows he doesn't deserve some of it...but they both need it, and that's what keeps both President and whore depending on one another...as much as they differ in both size, and majesty.