The citizenry, having barricaded themselves into any available space, cowered in fear of the monster. No one knew how to stop it, and it seemed inevitable that the sheer will of the beast would be enough to destroy Nevada's political future. Forever.
All seemed lost. Humanity was doomed.
But then, the sound of footsteps echoed across the open desert.
A dark cloaked figure appeared. He was holding a shotgun. And moved straight for the shambling zombie.
The roar of the double barrel blast exploded across the playa. The zombie, too busy spewing its bile crusted murmurings never heard him coming.
The Nevada Tea Party had killed the Nevada GOP.
And the next day, as the sun rose, the still trembling citizens emerged from their bunkers to survey the landscape. It was going to be okay.
And somewhere in a smoke-filled back room in Washington DC, a mysterious man from Searchlight smiled.