Donna hit rewind and watched the footage one more time: that crazy blond lady dragging the kid in the chicken suit down the hall and yelling at him, waving her finger in his face. Or beak, or whatever. She supposed she might find the clip amusing except for the fact that she was the crazy blond lady. It was just a few days after her argument with Will over the anti-Hoynes ad, and now she had to deal with this.
She shook her head, thinking of the events that had led up to the chicken confrontation. It had all started when the Dover Herald had decided to invite only the two top candidates, Russell and Hoynes, to the debate they were hosting. Both Will and the Vice President had been infuriated. A two person debate would make Hoynes look like a serious challenger, and the Vice President was trying desperately to maintain an aura of inevitability, to claim the title of "presumptive nominee" before New Hampshire had even voted.
And of course, the Santos campaign had been beyond outraged at being excluded. No doubt all the excluded candidates were outraged, but Santos was the only one to do something about it. Undoubtedly that was because he had someone as savvy as Josh running his campaign. The Santos campaign had approached the Russell campaign and asked for their help in pressuring the Herald to include all the candidates. It had almost worked, too, until Santos had insisted on pushing for his favored debate rules, which would be designed to prevent candidates from evading questions. Donna didn't know whether to think Santos was clueless and arrogant for pushing so hard for his own rules, when he should have just been grateful for the chance to get back in the debate, or to be concerned that the Vice President seemed so strongly opposed to having to actually answer direct questions.
And that's when the circus had begun. Santos – or more likely Josh, actually – had sent the teenagers in chicken suits out to heckle Russell and Hoynes. And Donna had taken the bait. She should have just ignored the chicken, and the media would have too. But no.
She hit "rewind" and watched it again. She didn't know why she was doing this to herself.
"Oh lighten up, it wasn't that bad," she turned to see Will standing behind her.
"Easy for you to say. You're not the one arguing with a chicken on CNN."
"Good point." Will pulled up a chair beside her. "But look at it this way. Santos can send out all the guys in chicken suits he wants. It doesn't change the fact that his campaign is finished."
"You sound awfully confident of that."
"He's excluded from the debate. He has no money for ads. He's finished. A guy in a chicken suit making the news isn't going to get anyone to vote for him on Tuesday."
"Well, there's always that 'alternative' debate he's holding," Donna rolled her eyes. Santos had challenged all the candidates to an alternate debate, with his debate rules, on the same night as the Herald's debate.
"Right. And let's see, what will that be like? Santos standing there at the podium, debating himself? Or maybe a few of the other low-single-digit candidates will decide to show up too. Yeah, I'm sure the media will be all over that one."
Donna laughed and turned off the recording of the chicken incident, turning the TV to a prime time local news show.
"Coming up during the commercial break, and of course we don't usually plug advertisements during our news segments, but this is kind of interesting," the news anchor began, "Congressman and Presidential candidate Matt Santos is in our studio right now. He's going to be filming a one-minute live ad which he has purchased on our station. That's right, he will be speaking to you live during the commercial break. It will be fascinating to hear what exactly he has to say."
"What the…" Donna and Will gasped in unison.
"You were saying, Will?" Donna glared at him.
"I don't believe this. Goddamnit." Will muttered. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.
They both watched as Congressman Santos appeared on the screen, speaking straight to the camera as he decried his and the other candidates' exclusion from the debates and negative campaigning in general. They both knew instantly that the ad was devastatingly effective.
"Why didn't we think of something like that?" Donna groused.
"Damnit. Damnit." Will kept muttering. He pulled his blackberry out of his pocket and dialed. "Yeah, this is Will, I need to speak to the Vice President right away."
Donna shook her head. They'd been so proud of their advertising strategy: spend a huge sum of money on ads, and go so horrifically negative as to generate "buzz" and get their ads replayed for free on the news. Meanwhile, Matt Santos had bought exactly one minute of airtime, badmouthed nobody – and she knew that his ad, not theirs, would prove to be the single most effective of the primary season.
She couldn't help but be impressed.