Racism! Slavery! National politics! The country was electrified. Douglas! Lincoln! One senate seat, one no-holds barred grudge match between these titanic heavyweights. No American at the time (nor astute Civil War historian at present) could avoid hearing about the debates between The Great Debater and the (future) Great Emancipator. That the country might have been rent asunder before the Civil War even began is a testament to its scope and emotional power. However, another less-publicized but nonetheless pivotal election was the stage for some of the finest debate the United States has ever seen.                 
In 1854, Vermont’s 17th congressional district was left vacant by the death of incumbent Darth Nihilus. Many fine men and women scrambled madly for the chance to make a name for themselves in politics, but soon two clear favorites emerged. Besides the fact that women could not run for office, these figures clearly separated themselves from the pack.
Nikola Tungsten, an immigrant from the Adriatic region of Slovenia campaigned on the platform that more money should be used to fund advanced technologies. Tungsten was a skilled blacksmith and had served for eleven years as the Octorfordshire Town Mad Scientist. His supporters were the urban poor (who hoped for safer working conditions) and stranded time-travelers from the future (praying that a time machine would soon be built to take them home).
Lars Scrimgeour was a Lutheran minister and fitness expert. Known for his dashing good looks and large penis, he espoused the rugged outdoor life. Consequently, he favored burning all cities and urban areas to the ground. Attractive women (who could not vote but nonetheless had the power to sway their husbands’ minds) formed his main constituents.
No quotes or clippings can be found which shed light on the first eleven debates between these upstanding members of society. However, many references are made to the large crowds they drew. It is noted that “Jebus Christ hisself couldna made more people come!” (August 11, 1854 Montpelier Currant-Herald).
The twelfth debate was, interestingly, controversial enough to warrant reams of articles, books and pamphlets that have survived the tumult of history to be studied today. It is now understood that this was the result of one question. From the transcripts of the debate:
Moderator Elvis Melbourne: Gentleman, if I may propose a hypothetical situation designed to test your decision making skills should you eventually enter office? Here it is: you are working for a non-profit farming and landscaping organization in Massachusetts 150 years in the future. You are operating a rather large truck, which is an oil-powered personal train that exists in the future. You are smoking a cigarette while steering this truck, and you reach out the window to put the cigarette out against the outside of this truck. My question: which would be the significantly worse situation: if, unbeknownst to you, while all this is happening, the truck was composed entirely of flammable material, or if it was made of pure PCP? Pastor Scrimgeour, I’ll let you respond first.
Lars Scrimgeour: Well, Elvis, that’s easy enough to answer. It would be a lot worse if the car was made from something flammable. You would die, the property of your place of work would be destroyed, and perhaps the fire would spread! If I was the U.S. Representative, serving the good men and women of Vermont, I would come to the same conclusion.
EM: Interesting. Dr. Tungsten?
Nikola Tungsten: Well, that’s pretty absurd. Are you kidding me? If you put the cigarette out on the PCP, it would light, and you’d get wicked high!
LS: Uh...so? It’s better than being dead!
NT: Uh-huh, man. No way. No fucking way!
EM: Care to explain your reasoning, Dr. Tungsten?
NT: What’s to reason? You’d be so fucked up and high that you probably wouldn’t be able to work for, like, at least the rest of the day!
LS: And?
NT: And Jesus Christ! You’d get fired! Or at least get your boss pissed at you! I’d rather be dead, man. I’d take the fucking bullet! Just put one right between the eyes! Yeah! I’d do it real quick, end my misery! Anything’s better than having that one guy at least a little mad at me!
EM: Ah. Well, Pastor Scrimgeour? Care to respond?
LS: Actually...no. I change my vote. Is it too late? Do I get a do-over?
On the eve of September 7, 1854, the population of Vermont (and by that I mean landowning, adult white males) visited their local polling station and cast their vote. In the end, the result seemed inevitable. By a landslide, Nikola Tungsten was elected to Congress. He in no way distinguished himself, proposing no bills and voting “Present” on all legislation. No record of his death exists, and he’d be like wicked old, like 200 or something if he were still alive. The conclusion to his bizarre story has yet to be written.
Because the time-travelers got him.