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President Garfield floated into his office, humming the national anthem. As he hovered over his desk, he discerned a familiar figure clinging onto his beloved chair. His nostrils flared up at the sight of his predecessor and rival Thompson.
“Hey! Let go of my chair!” Garfield hollered.
Thompson chuckled. “You seem to have forgotten that you got assassinated yesterday. You are a ghost.”
“What about you, kind sir?” Garfield retorted, sarcasm dripping from every syllable.
“If I let go, our successor will shift to that new building. It’s a state-of-the-art structure, and that will earn him the next term as well. We will be forgotten amidst the praises heaped on him.”
“What?” With that, Garfield flew to Thompson hastily, promptly forgetting that the ‘new building’ had been actually his brainchild, when he had been sworn in as the 35th president.
“I will never allow it. Here is the deal. I will help you. I will hold on to this chair for dear life. Sorry for the pun. Hehehehe!”
Thompson winked at Garfield. “I always knew we could join hands one day. Sorry for the pun too. Hehehehe!”
The next day the headlines screamed.

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