A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A NEW YORKER, ACCORDING TO MY FOX NEWS-WATCHING FLORIDA FAMILY MEMBERS
by GINNY HOGAN and CARLOS GREAVES

(The following is an excerpt from our new book, Obey In Advance: How to Survive and Thrive Under Authoritarianism by longtime McSweeney’s writer Ginny Hogan and McSweeney’s resident satirist Carlos Greaves. From how to stick your head in the sand to avoid thinking about your dictator, to the most effective ways to reeducate the masses, this hilarious (and oddly reassuring?) guide has you covered—whether you want to Make Authoritarianism Great Again or not.)

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7 a.m. I wake up and get stabbed.

8 a.m. I go to my corner bodega for a Bacon, Egg, and Cheese. On the way, I get mugged. I have no way to pay for the sandwich, so I’m forced to steal it. And then I stab the bodega owner so he won’t tattle on me.

9 a.m. I get on the subway and immediately get murdered. Fortunately, there are fourteen cops in the car, so they’re able to revive me—something only cops can do.

10 a.m. I arrive at my favorite place in the world: Times Square.

11 a.m In Times Square, I get stabbed.

12 p.m. I go for lunch. On the way, someone shoots me in the foot. I ask them who they voted for, and they say, “Kamala.” I ask them their name, and they say, “Sewer Socialist Bernie Sanders.” Dang.

1 p.m. I need to decompress from all the stabbings, so I do some heroin. It’s available on every street corner, lemonade-stand style. I try to tip the little girl selling it, but as I do, I get stabbed.

2 p.m. I participate in a protest against laws. A Hate-America-Pro-Hamas-Antifa-anti-law march. The only opportunity to wear my WE OPPOSE LAWS. At the protest, we burn an American flag—the last one left in New York City. As we’re burning it, we get stabbed.

2:30 p.m. I reflect on how nice it would be to shoot the stabbers, except that New York City doesn’t respect 2nd Amendment rights. So I can’t.

3 p.m. An ICE agent gifts me a beautiful kitten to make me feel better. Oh, sorry, this is after I got stabbed again at the Hate-America-Pro-Hamas-Antifa-anti-law protest, and the heroic ICE agent brought me back to life.

4 p.m. A subway crashes into my foot. As I’m hobbling around, trying to shake off the pain, I get stabbed again.

4:30 p.m. I go to a Starbucks where the barista’s name tag reads CRITICAL RACE THEORY. My Frappuccino is laced with arsenic. Coincidence? I think not.

5 p.m. Time for the entire city to engage in its ritual sacrifice of the Jews. After the ritual, we all hold hands and sing “Imagine” by John Lennon while a group of masked Antifa members stabs us. Rhythmically.

5:30 p.m. A pigeon shits on me. “The Stabbing of the Sky,” if you will.

6 p.m. I get a slice of pizza for dinner. It costs $72. In it, I find a knife, which stabs my mouth from the inside. Bummer. Even worse, the owner of the pizza joint asks for the knife back, since I didn’t pay for it. Then, he stabs me with it.

7 p.m. All the pollution turns my skin green. This is the fault of Biden’s EPA. Can’t be the fault of the current EPA, obviously, since it doesn’t exist.

8 p.m. Time to catch up on I Love LA like the woke idiot liberal elitist I am.

9 p.m. I call up Zohran Mamdani to thank him for that great job he’s doing with the city.

9:30 p.m. Zohran comes to my apartment himself and mugs me as a thank-you gesture. This kind of personal attention to every voter is likely why he came out of nowhere to win the Democratic nomination.

10 p.m. I fall asleep. It’s the only way a New Yorker can ever truly be safe from the stabbings. Unless someone breaks into your apartment and stabs you in the middle of the night. Which—unfortunately—happens every night.