The Mayor's office was oddly quiet today, it felt somewhat suspicious. His name was Albus Forghetty. He had recently turned 45 and he was enjoying his 2nd term as mayor. He'd been so blind to what his office could do these past years, now he was planning to change that. He was slow to catch on what the reverend Putty and the librarian Ms. Censordoll had been doing to him for these past years. They'd been using him as a mouth piece. Using his power to keep Moralton frozen in a terms of progress past the second world war. He put a stop to taking their advice seriously and had become independent minded. Looking to various cities and states beyond Moralton, Statesota and how they were doing business.
The mayor began writing up a draft on abolishing a law within Moralton namely the strict media distribution laws. At this point in time the media was currently orchestrated by the big three, the reverend Rodney Putty, controlled the radio airwaves. Sal Figurelli printed the papers and hired writers based upon the reverend's wishes. And Ms. Francis Clara Censordoll had the iron grip of said media. Whatever she said goes, whatever wasn't said would never be publicized on her watch.
The law stated that only the select elite could distribute these forms of media. Mayor Forghetty envisioned a town in which other sources of entertainment/information could be allowed. A Mr. Junior Christien had opened his eyes to this issue a few weeks prior...
His receptionist opened the door to his office.

"I think you need to take a look at this sir." The receptionist handed the mayor the newspaper

"They only write what they think is right in there...I don't need to read it." The mayor waved his hand at her as he continued writing.

"Its in regards to your office, Mr. Mayor."

"Hmm?" The mayor grabbed the paper and read the headline: "Prodigy of Moralton, Clay Puppington, nominated for Mayor!"
Usually mayors ran unopposed in Moralton's history. This was a shakeup. No doubt in his mind it was a scheme concocted by Censordoll and Putty.

"So its a race they want?" Mayor Forghetty said to himself. "Then its a race they'll get."

Clay was wrapped around his mother in a blanket, she calmed his fears looking down at him.

"Just remember what I told you Clay...There are no accidents, no mistakes. You are God's vessel to do thy will."

"Y-yes...I will." Clay looked up to her beautiful face. Her face face looked as if it had been carved by angels under God's will to create Eve herself.

"So come and do they God's will, my son..." Clay's mother looked sternly into Clay's eyes.

"I will..." As if given permission from the heavens it self, Clay pounced onto his mother like a wild animal. But lust wasn't enough to over take the nagging conscious telling him. "No, this is wrong, you are disgusting. This is all disgusting. You are a repulsive creature who knows no bounds. No bounds and willingly, savagely jumps upon your very own mother in a carnal fit of crazed debauchery."

"I WON'T"

Clay looked into the eyes of his mother and steeled himself bouncing backwards as if he'd seen a bug.
His mother form morphed into a demon, red skinned, her eyes flaring fire, her hair stretched out to snakes hissing in rage. His mother spoke oddly soft for what her image had taken form to.

"Why do you reject your own mother? Your own feelings?"
Tears ran down his face like a river. The loss of his mother was enough to melt his core but still he had to deal with this...Why did he have to feel this way?

"Because its wrong! I'm disgusting!"
His mother's snakes stopped their hissing and her red skin cooled drifting into purple.

"If you believe. it is. If you believe. You are."

Her skin decayed into a haunting skeleton crumbling to the ground as the snakes acting as her hair slithered towards Clay, up his legs...Hundreds of snakes wrapped around his legs, his body, his own manhood. They fiercely bit into his skin. They say you don't feel pain in your dreams. But this was no dream, it was a nightmare, and the pain he experienced emotionally throughout the nightmare intensified tenfold as the snakes bit into him. His heart swelled and felt as if it was going to give out.

Clay snapped awake. Sure enough Bloberta was there next to him. These dreams were getting weirder and weirder...He didn't like it. Bloberta awoke as well almost the same time.

"We need to get a bigger bed..." Clay said despondently.

"It is rather cramped yes. Maybe when you become mayor we will buy a new bed!" Bloberta said as she clapped her hands together.

The idea of being a mayor was very scary to Clay, but the idea of having more dreams because of Bloberta's proximity to him on the bed due to the bed's size was even scarier. Surely he'd have to win in order to obtain a new living space to gain that much needed space between them.

Lord in heaven have mercy on me.

Lord in heaven have mercy on her.

Arthur Puppington upon reading Clay was nominated for mayor decided it was time to get in contact with him before it was too late to reconcile. Clay had moved out awhile ago leaving nothing behind and no way to get in contact with him. So he looked to the phone book looking through his own name. Puppington, no Clay Puppington. He had married Bloberta...her family name was Hymentact he'd known that from growing up. He briefly recalled being dragged to church every Sunday with his wife and hearing the Hymentact family choir sing. Bloberta was made known through her appearances. She didn't sing in the family choir but she was always there with the family.
Arthur got the number to the Hymentact's and gave some thought to what he wanted to say as the phone began speak.

"You've reached the Hymentact's Residence, Mrs. Hymentact speaking."

"Hello, Mrs. Hymentact, this is Arthur Puppington, Clay's father."

"Well hello Mr. Puppington. I don't want to seem ungrateful for your son marrying off my daughter but he certainly seems rather ill-mannered."

"That would be my fault, right?"

"Entirely partially maybe, but you called me, what is it that you want?"

"I was trying to see if you could give me Clay's number, I don't have it. I need to speak to him"

"You don't have your own son's number?"

"Its none of your business Mrs. Hymentact, its strictly a father and son affair."

"I wouldn't help you even if I could, Mr. Puppington."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know anything about your son besides the fact he has no manners, and has an affinity for drinking, I'm afraid you'll have to seek help elsewhere."

The phone hung up. Arthur was somewhat amused at the conversation, but it was of no help he needed. He would need to go out personally to investigate where his son had gone to. Who knows it could be fun? He thought to himself.

Clay walked along with reverend Putty in the library as some of the higher ups directed people making a variety of images with Clay's image on it.

"We've prepared some notes for your during the debate, but don't stress out too much about it. Its all for show. Just don't have a break down on stage or anything." Reverend Putty showed Clay a few pieces of paper with notes scribbled on it.

"Sure, got it..." Clay responded dejectedly.

"What's wrong? You've got it in the bag."

"I'm not holding any bag." Clay said not aware of the expression Putty was using.

"Haha! Keep that Puppington humor during the debates and you'll win in a landslide victory." Putty nudged Clay winking at him. "So how's the Mrs. Puppington? You get to work on that baby yet?"

Clay coughed and blushed at the same time. "I...Why is that any of your business?"

"Trust me, we need to pull out all the stops with this election Clay. If you are having a child soon, that'll garner pity votes in case we don't have the election already on lock down."

"See, the thing is you never really heard me out on my problem with that in the confessional." Clay said almost sneering at the reverend.

"Oh? Well what is it?" Reverend Putty stopped walking and seriously looked to Clay. Putty had to admit to himself that he indeed didn't take Clay's problems back in the confessional seriously. He'd already talked to so many new husbands and wives about their oh so horrible companionship he sorely longed for. Be that as it may Putty was beginning to see Clay in a different light, like a son almost if he had a son. Clay looked to him with a saddened face.

"Every time I'm close to her...I get this...unbearable shame."

"Well why would you feel shame? You guys are married and correct me if I'm wrong but you haven't even had any other relationship in the past."

"This is really personal, reverend. I can't talk about this here." Clay sounded incredibly nervous and he was even sweating over this. Reverend Putty although focused on the matter at hand still did feel it was his duty to help with Clay's problem.

"Well look, we can talk after we chat with Ms. Censordoll about the upcoming debate. Nothing is more important than your emotional stability especially in regards to your candidacy."

"Okay, fine"

Clay and reverend Putty walked into Ms. Censordoll's office, she looked like she was modeling a ball of some sort of material and she put it away promptly as she saw Clay and the reverend.

"Yes, what is it?" Ms. Censordoll inquired

"I wanted to talk to you about the debate with Clay here a little bit ahead of schedule, if you wouldn't mind." Putty winced a little, he wasn't one to ask schedule changes with Ms. Censordoll, she was a cut throat person when it came to timing, even being a minute early to something was enough to get her upset.

"I thought we were to discuss this later, what is your rush, Putty?" Ms. Censordoll said with a look of annoyance in her eyes.

"Clay has an appointment he needs to get to soon, wouldn't want our mayor to look like he doesn't keep his promises with official appointments." Putty lied for Clay, if only because he deep down wanted to help people in Moralton despite the fact it seemed many people in Moralton took things for granted. He had a duty to uphold in Moralton.

"Fine. I wanted to speak with you Clay about potential problems..." Ms. Censordoll stated.

"That being?"

"What sort of skeletons do you have in your closet?"

"Skeletons?"

"Yes, things that the opponent may bring to light. We need to prepare for that in case it were to arise." Ms. Censordoll was indeed planning for the debate but she was also very curious herself about this Puppington fellow. She had a catalog from her mother about most residents of Moralton. Backgrounds, desires, dreams, friends, enemies. You name it. But Clay Puppington seemingly slipped through the cracks of the Censordoll radar.

Dammit all, why was everyone working against him these days. Its like God was punishing him to think about it. Making him confront that horrible, horrible day...But Clay wouldn't budge.

"Well look at that!" Clay pointed over to the clock "Its 3pm I gotta go to my thing right now, we'll talk later buh bye!" Clay ran out of the office in a comical display of anxiety. Ms. Censordoll raised her eyebrow at the reverend, the reverend didn't dare follow Clay, this behavior coming from Clay almost made him ashamed to have brought him to Ms. Censordoll...They would have to talk about this later. Ms. Censordoll was suspicious about this Clay Puppington. No matter, the election was assured in her mind. There would be plenty of time to learn more about this mysterious Puppington...

Junior Christein Sr. had just recently moved to Moralton with his wife, Sharon. He had come for the prospect of causing a little shift inside the walls of Moralton. The media moguls of Moralton were keeping the town in lock down of ignorance he planned to overturn. What better way than to get close to the mayor of Moralton? Junior started to get in contact with the mayor and quickly gained his trust with his progressive ideas. The mayor was determined to advance Moralton with the rest of the United States, it was just the ticket Junior Christein needed to advance his own goals for Moralton. Regain control over the Moralton media! Whoever controls the media, controls the mind.

Why did Junior Christein want this? It was the Censordolls. Francis Clara Censordoll's mother had pushed for the exiled the Christein family as well as all other Jews out of Moralton decades prior for practicing the Jewish faith. They had to live in squalor while hearing of the great Censordoll's achievements within the walls of Moralton.

Upon the mayor Forghetty banning the punishment of exile, the Christeins were allowed to move back into Moralton if they so desired. Most Jews as well as Junior's own brother Bernie Christein had moved out of Statesota fearing a resurgence of antisemitism. But Junior Christein lied in wait for the moment to take back what was his father's before him. Control of the young minds of Moralton.

Arthur took a stroll in his truck looking around he saw posters of his son's face saying to vote for him. Arthur didn't really care for politics and didn't know his son took any interest in politics...A little shame dawned on him realizing that of course he'd have no idea what his son was interested in. He stopped communicating to him after "gifting" him the family pistol for being tainted with blood...Arthur remembered that Clay was a devout Christian upon looking at the church of Moralton. No matter how much Arthur tried to sway him from faith, Clay kept that very much apart of him. It was almost admirable of him...But it always seemed like Clay used Christianity more as a shield from responsibility more than anything else, which is why Arthur wouldn't let Clay go to church. Arthur decided that he'd try to meet Clay at church the following Sunday, surely he'd be there, being the pious man he was. It was there he could try to make things right.

Out the corner of Arthur's eye he saw a figure in a black suit and brown hair running down the street. It was Clay! What luck! But Arthur stopped himself from running after him...Clay looked in distress and now was probably not the right time to ambush him.
Arthur however did decide to drive carefully to where Clay was running to see if he could determine where Clay lived or frequented...

Clay ran to the Alonefords, the apartment for Bachelors and Spinsters, up the stairs and into the building with no time to look around to see that a truck had been following him.
I wonder what he's running from? Arthur thought to himself...But deep in his heart he knew he was running from himself.