So I hitched up my cross-shoulder bandoliers and braved the blizzard. Yeah, those jackbooted hoodlums waving their Uzis tried hard to keep me from the polling place, but I pulled out my trusty rubber chicken and whapped them smartly, sending them bouncing down the street. Then I steamed into the polling place, where the double barricades had steel points atop, but I flicked out my trusty pole vault, snicked it out the full twenty feet, and leaped over. Then I wrestled the giant squid guarding the ballots . .
Actually. I live in a condominium complex mostly full of old folks, and so it was quiet and polite and easy.