Jane had shared mimosas with a friend who owns a film-prop house in Arlington and brought home a vintage WWII uniform that had caught her eye.
It was more for laughs than anything else.
But she and Dick soon discovered that dressing up and channeling Joseph Goebbels stimulated their ability to come up with conspiracy theories.
They recited his quotes—about how to lie to stupid people—out loud to keep themselves grounded.
If Herr Goebbels’ principles worked for the Third Reich, they figured, they‘d work on Americans docile enough to believe the election was stolen.
Then, suddenly, the blinding headaches started.
“I’m cursed for bringing Goebbels back to life,” Dick told Jane. “This isn’t like our naughty, little Viking-ravages-harem-girl cosplays,” he insisted. “This is evil!”
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