The U.S. presidential race sweeping across North America was turning into one grand, chaotic stage play.
Some were center stage in the spotlight. Others watched from the wings, enjoying the drama unfold.
And this theatrical saga had kicked off with the Democratic primaries.
Hillary Clinton's dazzling entrance ignited the crowd with passionate fervor. She was the first woman in U.S. history to run seriously for the presidency, setting hearts racing and expectations soaring.
But it was Barack Obama who ultimately surged ahead—young, fiery, basking in the winds of change. With "Change" as his campaign mantra, he made Hillary seem stale and outdated.
Still, regardless of how it turned out, Obama's candidacy as a Black man vying for the presidency was already a historic milestone.
Then, in a move that stunned many, Obama passed over the wildly popular Hillary and instead chose the veteran Joe Biden as his running mate.
Biden, a seasoned hand in foreign affairs and national security, was meant to shore up Obama's perceived weaknesses—prompting McCain's camp, who had long criticized Obama for being young and inexperienced, to scramble for a counter.
Just 48 hours later, McCain pulled a showstopper.
He picked the stunning governor of Alaska, Sarah Palin, as his running mate.
There was no doubt—it was a direct appeal to the female vote, many of whom were still bitter over Hillary being snubbed.
Palin, right out of the gate, lavished praise on Hillary Clinton and Geraldine Ferraro, the 1984 Democratic vice-presidential nominee. She vowed to continue their legacy of shattering glass ceilings.
Thus began a heated, back-and-forth barrage between the two camps.
You dig up my dirt—I dig up yours.
Then came "Wiretap-gate," catapulting this political drama to a new high.
In the noise, no one seemed to notice the latest Epstein court documents quietly released—at least, no one in the mainstream did. And even if someone had, their voice was quickly drowned out by the wiretap uproar.
In those documents, there were thirty pages involving Chelsea Clinton—daughter of Bill and Hillary—and her escapades on Epstein's private island.
According to the files, Chelsea had visited the island three times and partied all night with a group of Eastern European models aged seventeen or eighteen.
"No wonder she's her daddy's girl!" Martin muttered, tossing the paper aside in his Beverly Hills home.
Across from him, Alexandra Daddario glanced at the headline, then quickly returned her attention to the juicier topic of the day.
"If McCain really planted a bug, that's seriously low."
Jessica, also at the table, joined in. "Honestly, who else could've done it? What do you think, Martin?"
Martin replied calmly, "We'll probably never know. There's no hard evidence. But even if McCain didn't do it, Obama's team will still pin it on him—drag it out whenever it suits them. It works in their favor."
What made it interesting, however, was the true mastermind behind it all—Bill Clinton—suddenly stepping back into the spotlight.
On the 19th, he and Hillary hosted a very public dinner with Obama.
The dinner lasted 90 minutes, giving the press plenty of time for photo ops.
Afterward, Bill told reporters, "We've reached a bit of an agreement. I'll be helping Obama out on several matters. He's a good guy. Whether or not he chose Hillary as his running mate, we'll support him."
When asked about the state of the race, especially against McCain, Bill grinned and said, "I predict Obama will win the election—and easily, too."
Obama chuckled beside him. "See? You can trust the words of a former president—he knows politics."
The wiretap scandal had hit McCain's campaign hard. His poll numbers were visibly plummeting.
In his office, the 72-year-old McCain stormed back and forth in frustration, white hair practically glowing with rage.
"Goddamn it! These bastards are playing dirty. Denis, can't we strike back? Use the same damn tricks?"
The bespectacled advisor lifted his head thoughtfully. "It's... tricky. If we respond in kind, it'll look like petty retaliation."
"So what, we just sit here and take it?" McCain barked.
"We could pivot instead—up our game with another tactic. Like... strengthening our ace cards."
"Ace cards?" McCain squinted at him.
"Defense contractors are facing a bit of an economic slump. The weapons dealers are hurting. Maybe we toss them a bone."
"They're broke? Ha!" McCain scoffed, then sneered. "And what's this bone? Promise them a war once I'm president? Greece? Iran? Libya?"
"No... Russia."
"What the fuck? You want me to start a war with Russia?! Are you out of your goddamn mind?!"
"No, no," Denis rushed to explain. "Not an actual war—just a show of force. Talk tough, raise tension, make those people believe we might go to war. That's enough to win back their support. It'd also help counteract the wiretap scandal's impact."
"Hmph... that could work. But we need a fallback. I'm not getting strong-armed into a real war by those warmongers."
"Then let Palin say it."
"Hmm. Sarah, huh? Not a bad idea."
…
The very next day, on an ABC talk show, Palin brought up Russian foreign policy.
She told the host, "Russia's aggression in Georgia is unacceptable. As the beacon of democracy, the U.S. cannot allow a superpower to bully its neighbors."
When asked whether she would consider military action, she responded, "We can't rule out that possibility."
Her remarks immediately reignited interest from the U.S. arms lobby. And among the portion of the public that favored a hardline stance against Russia, Republican support grew even stronger.
Even Martin, usually Hollywood's anti-war poster child, was asked by reporters whether he agreed with Palin's statement.
He responded, "If we use war to solve war—and not even our war—how are we any different from the rogue nations Palin talks about? We're already knee-deep in the mess of Iraq and Afghanistan. Isn't that enough?"
Meanwhile, Obama's team unearthed old posts from Palin's church website. In one, she'd written about the Iraq War: "Our nation's leaders sent our brave soldiers to carry out God's mission."
That was enough for them to brand her a "war profiteer."
Palin's rebuttal was measured: "I've never claimed to know God's will, nor do I preach in His name."
It was the perfect political answer—sincere, cautious, and tailored to appeal to both religious conservatives and secular moderates.
Especially when she added that even she wasn't sure whether her son—soon to be deployed to Iraq—was carrying out a divine mission. Her words struck a delicate balance: she wasn't a war hawk, but she was willing to make sacrifices for national security.
This time, Palin's gamble paid off—both she and McCain won back a good chunk of voter goodwill.
"That's one hell of a smart woman," Obama admitted to Martin during a private chat.