Many years ago, before the time of man, the earth was not made of solid ground and vast, blue oceans. There was a time when this great planet was dominated by vast marshes and swamps, with thick, green, bubbling waters and tired, sagging trees. But despite its appearance, the days of the swamp were filled with happiness. Various woodland creatures went about their day, infectious bacteria mingled with the local varieties of phytoplankton, and the mighty swamp creatures ruled and ensured that all residents of the swamp lived happily and in harmony. The ruler of these gentle creatures went by the name of King Kyle, and was hailed all across for the land for the wonders he had done for the peaceful swamp civilization. He managed to keep all the different creatures, critters, and organisms at peace with each other, and it certainly did not hurt that he had lowered the tax on swamp muck by 5%.

Deep in the heart of the swamplands, there was a young but ambitious swamp creature named Casey. Ever since he was a little swamp larvae, he aspired to be like King Kyle. He wanted to be able to bring peace and happiness to all the other creatures in the swamp just like the king did. Casey worked hard all throughout his life so that he may one day become as wise and influential as the much respected king. He did so well in school that he went to Swamp State University on a full scholarship, and managed to maintain straight A’s while working on the moss fields so that he could put himself through grad school at The University of Swamp, where he graduated with highest honors. After graduating, Casey was easily elected as the swamp congressman for the 7th district of Swamptucky. Our story begins three years into his career as a swamp legislator.

“What the hell is this?!” Casey yelled, slamming the draft back onto his desk. “We can’t give tax breaks to the toads! The frog lobbyists are going to have my head if that happens!”1

Hauser, Casey’s feeble and weak minded assistant, shrunk back in fear. “I’m sorry suh, the senators just gave it to me and told me to bring it here, I don’t want no trouble suh!” he said as his voice quivered.

“Well you should have thrown it right back in their faces!” Casey exclaimed.

“I’m just the messenger suh, I was only doing my job!” Hauser said.

Casey’s face became red. “Your job is not to piss me off! Now get out of my sight and don’t do it again!” Hauser darted out of the room and slammed the door. Casey sighed, reached into his drawer, and pulled out one of his illegally imported moss cigars.

As he lit his cigar, his fellow congressman and friend Harry knocked on the door and entered his office. Casey greeted him with three sharp clicks of the tongue, as is swamp custom, and offered him a moss cigarette.

“I saw your secretary crying in the hallway.” said Harry with a smirk. “Looks like you had to lay down the law with him.”

“Ehh, you know how it is. People like him have no respect. They’re just dumb and worthless. They have no place among real men like us unless they’re carrying our papers and pouring our coffee, and if they can’t even do that right then they’re a waste of my time.” Casey chuckled lightly to himself and took a large puff of his cigar.

“Well if anyone has the right to talk to someone like that it’s you!” Harry exclaimed. “You’ve put yourself far above people like him, and you certainly have made a name for yourself up on Capital Marsh.”

“Psssh!” exclaimed Casey. “I’m no better than he is. In the part of the swamp I’m from they got an expression; you ain’t nothin’ unless your number one!”

Harry grinned. “Well I’ll drink to that!” he said, and poured himself a tall glass of aged swamp scotch. “Say, did you hear that King Kyle is naming a successor?”

Casey’s mouth gaped open. This could be everything he had been working for. “Who is it?” he asked anxiously.

“I have no idea” said Harry. “But I know he hired a committee of elders to help him decide”.

“Oh, that’s…..ok, I have some work to do, so, uh, I’ll talk to you later Harry, ok?”

“Sure thing!” said Harry, and he got up from his seat and staggered drunkenly to his office.

Casey knew he had to get a list of everyone who was being considered to become the heir to the swamp throne. Luckily, he knew the first rule of being a swamp congressman; always have someone who owes you a favor. He quickly picked up the phone and called up his cousin, Vinny.

“Hey, this is Vinny, who is this”

Casey spouted out his proposal with anxious urgency. “It’s Casey. I need a list of everyone Kyle is considering as an heir to the throne.”

“Casey, you know I went straight. I ain’t about that life no more!”

Casey’s brow wrinkled, and his tone suddenly became dark. “You know what I can do if you say no.” He hung up the phone and stormed out of his office. The next day, there was a piece of paper with ten names scrawled onto it on his desk.

Casey knew that to ensure his spot as the king, he had to sabotage the other contenders. At first, he was apprehensive, but that did not last long. He knew that he would be a great king, and that he would have to do whatever was necessary to get to that point. So in the next few weeks, he dug up sex scandals, drug habits, illegal bribes, and anything else he could find. He betrayed his friends, and made many new enemies. But it didn’t matter one bit, because Casey knew that the kingship was growing closer by the minute. But as he followed through with his plot of sabotage, he realized there was a major obstacle in his way; Congressman B. Slimmons. Slimmons was one of the top choices for the kingship, and Casey knew that there was nothing he could to do tarnish his name. He was one of the most well liked members of the swamp congress, and probably the only one with no lies, vices, or scandals to dig up. Casey knew that there was no way he could make him look bad, and in the back of his head he would not be chosen over Slimmons for the kingship.

The idea of losing his only change to be king to B. Slimmons was unbearable to Casey. Every day he would neglect his work because he could not get his mind off of it, and spend hour after hour thinking about how he could take him down. One night, after Casey fell asleep, he had a strange vision. In his dreams, he was approached by a much older version of himself, covered in royal garb and holding the kings scepter. Casey was amazed, and could barely muster up a single word other than “wow”. For a minute, he forgot that he was dreaming and could really believe that he was staring at himself as the future swamp king.
“Tell me what I must do to be like you!” Casey pleaded.
“You know what you must do.” said his future self quietly.
“No I don’t!” Casey insisted. “Show me how I can become the king! I’ll do anything!”
The apparition’s expression turned grim and sinister. “You must take the life of the one who stands between you and your success.” he whispered.
The blood drained from Casey’s face. “But….he did nothing wrong….”
“It matters not.” said the apparition.
“I can’t!” Casey shouted defiantly. “I want to be a good king; there must be some other way!”
“You will never be a king at all if you do not do It.” spoke Casey’s future self. “This deed is terrible, but it must be done.”2
“No!” shouted Casey, as he awoke from his dream. Covered in a cold sweat, he left his bed to go for a swim in the warm swampy water surrounding his house. He had to relax, and he knew he could never go through with the terrible deed that his future self had suggested in his dream. His dream was to be a good king, and what would be the point of being king if he was a terrible person? But as he dove into the water. As he swam, he started to imagine how everything would play out. Slimmons would become the king, and everything he had worked so hard for would crumble before his very eyes. Slowly, his eyes became red with anger, and his good sense and judgment became clouded. Casey arose from the water. He knew what he had to do, and he knew that it needed to be done that very night.3 He picked up his phone, and started to dial.
It had been a hard day at work for Slimmons. Every day for the past month, he had stayed late working on a bill to increase funding for swamp history programs in public schools. He was exhausted, but he knew it would pay off soon. He kept hearing rumors that he was to be nominated as the heir to the swamp throne, and the idea that he might finally get something in return for all his hard work left him overjoyed. Finally, after the long drive, he could see his driveway right in front of him. Slimmons opened his garage, and to much surprise found three burly, masked hooligans awaiting him.

Hello sirs, what can I do for you on this wonderful evening?” he politely inquired. The largest man walked up to him, and answered his question with a powerful punch to the cranium, leaving Slimmons unconscious. The men threw him into the back of their giant white truck, and the congressman was never to be seen again.

The next day, Casey did not speak a word to anyone. He retreated to his office to do paperwork, but ended up just staring at his wall for hours, unable to get the terrible thing he had done out of his head. Ironically, his coworkers all assumed he was acting strangely because he was troubled by Slimmons’s disappearance.

“I must go on.” Casey mumbled to himself, in the solitude of his office. “I did only what I had to do. Soon the title of swamp king will be mine!”

“NO.” spoke a mysterious figure behind Casey. Casey turned around, and saw the apparition that had come to him in his dream!

“I did what you told me spirit, now why must I suffer from such tormenting guilt?!” Casey asked angrily.

“You made the weak choice.” The spirit answered. “In your quest to become a great swamp king, you have done terrible things to others and exchanged your potential for sin and treachery.”

Casey’s jaw dropped, and he began to stutter from pure shock. “But……I only wanted to be a great swamp king…..”

“Silence!” yelled the spirit. “You are no swamp king. You are a swamp monster!” The spirit waved its hand, and in the blink of an eye it was gone, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in his wake.

In that moment, Casey realized what he had become. He knew that his goal no longer mattered; the terrible things he had done in an attempt to reach it far outweighed any good he could do. He left his office and went to a secluded part of the swamp, one that nobody else knew about. There, you could look off into the distance and see the murky swamp water stretch for miles and miles, seeming to fade off into the son. Casey stared at his reflection in the water, and a single tear dropped from his eye. “I know what I must do.” he muttered. “I have let my people down.” He dove into the water and began to swim furiously, as if he was outrunning some sort of unspeakable horror. And he swam until his arms gave out, and land was nowhere to be seen. He knew he could no longer be of use to the world or himself, as there was no good left in him to spread to others. Casey never had his day to rule over the swamp, but the swamp took its rule over him, and the sickly little swamp creature was never to be seen ever again.4