For as long as he could remember, Nganga had worked for Kawir in Chicago. Little did he know, the system was about to pump out a welcome surprise. His old friend, Reverend Al Sharpton, had set up in Los Angeles. In doing so, he asked Nganga to come with him. It was not a decision the old man could make alone. It would come down to a referendum. A veritable...Chexit. 

A message to Sharpton and a message to Kawir traveled through the night. Leave? Or remain? It was almost too much for the palaeolithic shaman. The tension rose and rose, like soufflé. Leave. Remain. Leave. Remain. He ping ponged between the two like a rabid animal. To stay would mean good health, stability, and opportunity. To leave would mean putting two feet first into the chaos, hedonism and shameless indulgence of The Supreme Church of Seeking Profits. The dollar might even drop. It was truly a tough choice.

Late in the eve, the votes began to tally...

The first ballot came out. LEAVE. 

Nganga's heart raced.

The second ballot came out. LEAVE.

He was in shock. They had done it. The Chexit had won! 

Rule California, rule the waves, Californians never, never, never shall be slaves!