CHEROKEE NATION—Having dropped out of the presidential race, Elizabeth Warren rode in solitude back to her reservation, having failed to take the land back from the pale faces.
"I am sorry, my people. I have failed," she said somberly, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "The white man still holds our land, and the very trees cry out against them. May Great Spirit grant us another chance in 4 harvests." The Cherokee people looked confused, so she clarified: "That means years according to the Indian talk book I picked up."
The Cherokee expressed mixed emotions at seeing Warren return, from "Who are you?" to "How many times do we have to tell you that if you're not gonna play some slots at the casino, then you're gonna need to leave?"
Warren nodded, accepting her banishment from her once-great place among the Cherokee people. "I accept my punishment and vow never to return until the sun once again never sets on the Cherokee Nation. As I depart, let me simply ask you if you have ever heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon? Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grins?"
"Wait, now you're just quoting Pocahontas," one tribal security guard said. "Alright, lady, let's go. The buffet is having crab legs tonight but other than that you're gonna have to scram."
At publishing time, Warren had sought advice from Grandmother Willow as to who it is that she should endorse.
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