[ WP ] A plane carrying all 17 Republican Presidential nominees crashes over the ocean . All survive uninjured , but are marooned on an island . Chris Christie has found the conch .

It's been.... I do n't know how many days. Weeks, definitely. Months, probably. We found a fresh water stream on the third day. Fourth day? Early enough that we did n't die of thirst. Perry rigged up a fishing net out of palm leaves and vines or something. How the hell did he figure that out? Maybe the glasses really did make him smarter. The lenses are broken, but he stills wears them. Wore them. 
 
 We actually found some game not long after. Wild pigs. One of them almost gored me. How's that for karma? Stabbed that fucker right through his eye with one of the spears Bush had his lackeys whittle for us. Boy did Jindal, Carson, and Graham fold like fucking paper when good ol' boy Jeb started all Commander-in-Chiefing. And those fucking tools thought they stood a chance in the race? Like they could fucking run the most powerful country on Earth? Gim me a fuckin' break. 
 
 Anyway... The game, fresh water, and the fire we were able to start with somebody's lighter, I do n't remember whose, meant things were okay for a while. Huckabee tried keeping our spirits up singing and praying and carrying on with the Jesus bullshit. Goddamn country hick. Of course, Santorum lapped that shit up. I'd had enough of that after a week. I stopped joining in on the campfire singalongs. Started walking the perimeter, along the beach. Christ, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. So that did n't last long. 
 
 A few days after that, a week maybe, the big fight broke out. Trump was n't himself for a long time in the beginning. He was actually withdrawn. Quiet. It was weird, but I think we were all thankful for it. Especially Carly. But I guess he'd finally had enough of Bush trying to be some kind of take-charge leader, like the jackass still thought he was in the race. So one night, it was like Trump flipped a fuckin' switch in his brain, and he was back. Started pushing everyone around, barking orders, calling us all fat and stupid and lazy, telling us all to shut the fuck up. `` Why'd I have to get stranded with you bunch of fucking losers?'' he'd say. Jeb stood up to him. And I was n't taking any of that shit either. 
 
 I do n't know why Trump blew up like that. He knew we all hated his guts. He did n't have a single ally on this goddamn island. But maybe that's why he was quiet for so long. Maybe he was biding his time, feeling us out, seeing who he could trust. Figuring out if any of us would back his play. Maybe I'm giving the asshole too much credit. Because what he did next sure was n't smart. He started picking on Carly, shouting about how useless she was, just `` taking up space and eating our food.'' She started crying, and motherfucking Rand Paul just clocked Trump! Probably the coolest thing I've ever seen that limpdick do. 
 
 And he did n't stop there! He tackled Trump like it was a goddamn UFC fight, took him to the ground and just started wailing on him. Funniest fucking thing I've ever seen, swear to God, was when Rand started pulling Trump's hair, screaming `` this is n't real!'' over and over. After the initial shock, a bunch of us finally pulled him off the guy. I dunno, I figured if we managed to get rescued, we should probably make sure Trump of all people is still breathing. Cause sure as shit he'd be the first one everybody would've expected to bite it. And no way would anybody believe our stories if all of us made it back except him. But man, the sight of him after we pulled Rand off... a truly beautiful thing. 
 
 So there's big shot billionaire loudmouth with this fucking name plastered on over buildings all around the world, curled up in a little ball, nose bashed in and gushing blood, clutching his bruised ribs ( cause you know, I could n't resist giving the cunt a few shots myself ), and the whole camp is dead fucking silent. Just listening to this shitstain sob like a baby. Rand is still fuming, pacing back and forth all wound up. He started yelling at Trump to apologize. Carly and Rubio were pleading with everyone to settle down and stop shouting. 
 
 Eventually I pulled Rand away from the camp and we go for a walk. He's rubbing his hands, sore from the beating he just dished out. Trembling like a leaf too. I suggest we take a nice relaxing walk along the beach. Get some fresh sea air, clear our heads. But he says that he found a place that he wants to show me. So we go inland instead. 
 
 And what he found was a fuckin' cave. `` I ai n't fucking going in there,'' I said. `` Probably some fucking animal's den, crocodiles or some shit.'' 
 
 `` Nah, c'mon, it's actually really nice inside. You got ta see this,'' he says. 
 
 So fuck it, we go in. And he was right. This place was pretty damn cool. And bigger than it looked from the outside. The further we go in, the darker it gets. But then, all of a sudden, I started noticing the walls are glowing. Not the walls, but the plants covering the walls. Some kind of algae, or fungus or something, I do n't fucking know. But it's the craziest shit I've ever seen. Glowing all kinds of greens and blue and pinks. 
 
 Eventually, the tunnel opens up a bit into a larger cavern with a pool of water. Rand tells me he's been here a couple times already. He likes it cause it's quiet and really pretty. `` Nice place to come and think,'' he says. No one else knows about it apparently, and he says he'd like to keep it that way. 
 
 `` No problem,'' I say sincerely. None of those other clowns deserve this place. `` How deep do you think it is?'' I ask Rand, gesturing to the black pool that melds into the darkness of the cavern's far wall. 
 
 `` No idea. I'm not going to check though,'' he says. `` But c'mere, check this out.'' Rand hunches over at the edge of the pool, motioning me to join him. What he wanted to show me was a massive pile of seashells, just under the water's surface. All shapes and sizes, lots of really cool-looking ones that reminded me of times my dad would take me to the Jersey Shore as a kid. 
 
 I ca n't help but let out an impressed `` wow.'' 
 
 `` Ya, where d'you think they all came from?'' 
 
 `` Fuck if I know,'' I said with a shrug. Then my eye catches one conch in particular, and I swear to fucking God I can hear seagulls and smell the salt in the air just for a second when it does. I knew at that moment I had to reach out and grab it. Wish I could tell you what Rand was saying as I pulled the conch out of the water, turning it over in my hands. But he seemed very far away just then. Could n't really hear him or see him. I mean, this thing was fucking beautiful. Mesmerizing. But I guess that's the point, huh? 
 
 Without thinking, I put the thing up to my ear. We were too far inland, too deep in the cave, to hear the ocean outside. But I knew I fucking heard it. And the gulls again. Took me right back to those days on the beach with my dad. Best time of my life. 
 
 When I heard Rand's voice again, he was snapping his fingers in my face. `` Fuck off, what the hell?'' 
 
 `` Lost you there for a second. Like you were in a trance. You were blowing on that thing with your eyes closed. You okay?'' 
 
 I shrugged it off. `` Uh, ya.'' Truth was I had no fucking idea if I was okay. `` Let's get out of here.'' So we headed back to camp to see if Trump was still alive. I was still kind of hazy the whole walk back, but I never once let go of the conch. 
 
 It's been weeks since then. I'm the last one left now. It **ATE** them. I do n't know why I'm still alive. I think it's just toying with me. Jesus fuck. My pen's running out of ink. It was the only one I could find on what was left of them. I do n't think I have long now. Just please, for the love of God, stay the fuck away from this island. If you find this message, STAY AWAY!!! Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy na 

