In walks a man born from Drama, itching for a Comedy. In olden times, you might've thought the grass could be greener on some other side. Here, thin plastic words litter the astro-turf, the mats rolled out to adorn the Political landscape, and our grass's the greenest. Don't believe me, with your faces looking down on faces looking up, governmental hands meeting in the middle? Dead will rise, mighty will fall, and his smile makes the mask. Hovering near his reflection, his mask makes him smile