Marco Rubio gets up on the debate stage. He feels a little nervous. But somehow reassured. For some reason, the necklace he got from his grandfather seems to calm him down.
The first answer of the night goes to Donald Trump:
“Look. There’s a reason I’m ahead in all the polls. And I can show you all the polls. I have a whole list. I’m beating them all. I’m especially beating little Marco Rubio, who can’t say anything without breaking a sweat.”
“That’s ENOUGH, Donald!” proclaims Rubio. “I’m tired of your games!”
“Oh, little Rubio is speaking up for himself!” retorts Trump. “This I gotta see!”
“I’ll do a lot more than speak up for myself, Donald!”
The pyramid on Rubio’s necklace begins to glow. Of its own accord it shakes. From somewhere deep inside him, beyond his control, Rubio finds himself crying out:
The light fades. The figure there is almost Marco Rubio, but not quite. For one, he’s a good foot taller, and his hair is slightly rumpled now. A newfound confidence surges through his veins.
“Your bullying has gone on long enough, Trump!” says Rubio, his voice now an octave lower. “Brace yourself, because it’s time… to debate!!!”