In a previous existence, Devin Nunes had been a telegram delivery boy. He kept getting canned because every message he delivered, however detailed and complicated before being sealed into its envelope, arrived mysteriously and absolutely blank.
Nothing was delivered. Some say he was bedeviled by an evil memo-deleting Jin; others that he had an undetectable method of opening sealed envelopes and worked on the messages himself until they conformed to a secret Deep State Masonic-Illuminati code that only Devin and a few others knew.
His tutor, one Rosemary Woods, had taught him the fine art of deletion and modification in order to construct an indecipherable narrative.
He’d arrive at his destination and deliver his much-anticipated epistle, leaving everyone speechless, scratching their heads, and wondering why he’d bothered making the trip, particularly since he’d hired his own brass band to precede him into towns announcing his imminent arrival.
Often, intoxicated with the importance of his sacred charge, he would refuse to let the addressees even see the memo and insist upon reading or worse, singing it to them. It was for this reason that he was at last dismissed from his position.
After he was let go, large rectangular chunks of Nunes would become translucent and then disappear, almost as if he were being haphazardly erased by some hidden hand. Finally, as his scalp was being erased, he dwelt on the possibility of reincarnation, and one last thought arose in his consciousness. Again…