For 400 years, Joseph, my family has suffered at the hands of yours. Ever since the first Bidens kidnapped my ancestors in the middle of the night from our small fishing village, we were forced to pick corn while your family got rich off of our work, our bodies, our souls. My grandfather Cornwallis "Pop-pop" Thomas told me these stories the night of his death. With his dying breath, he told me to avenge the family name.
And so I began. I took his moniker, and worked to ascend the eschilons of power. Now, look where we stand. No longer a lifeguard and Corn Pop, but as a presumptive President-Elect and a Supreme Court Justice. Now, with your election results coming in, Joseph, it would be a shame if someone stole them, like a small boy from the west African shores 400 years ago.
The harvest is finally here, Joseph. I hope you are ready to collect.
Now take a seat, Joseph, and tell me where the ballots came from.