The Fable of the Mandrill
A Story of Hubris, Bathrooms, and an American Congresswoman
By MacKenzie Morgan

In a nation hungry for spectacle and starving for truth, The Fable of the Mandrill arrives as both feast and warning.

Ruth Anne Nantz is not a villain in her own story. She is a Congresswoman, a daughter of the South, a veteran of culture wars and televised takedowns. She smiles in pearls and weaponized sincerity, campaigns in scripture-stitched rhetoric, and wins hearts with the practiced tremble of her voice. She does not need facts—she has voters. And she tells them what they want to hear.

When Ruth Anne amplifies a debunked urban myth about cat litter in school bathrooms, she isn't mistaken—she is strategic. What begins as a cynical talking point escalates into a full-on moral crusade, complete with martyrdom cosplay and memetic soundbites. But as her lies compound and her performative outrage spirals into legislative firestorms, something ancient begins to answer. A curse, perhaps. Or a reckoning.

Because fables always balance the scales.

Told with razor wit, aching moral clarity, and an eye for the grotesquely familiar, The Fable of the Mandrill drags the threads of modern American politics into the dark mirror of transformation. What happens to a woman who builds her power on the backs of the vulnerable? What is the cost of a brand built on righteous rage?

And what, precisely, is that thing growing beneath her skin?

Sharp as a campaign pin and twice as dangerous, this installment in the Feast Tales for Famine Times series is a gothic political satire that straddles the line between realism and parable. Like all true fables, it does not end in redemption. It ends in metamorphosis.

For fans of Naomi Alderman’s The Power, Carmen Maria Machado, or the brutal moral geometry of Shirley Jackson, The Fable of the Mandrill offers a chilling glimpse into what happens when the mask of power is worn too long—and what waits beneath when it finally slips.

Content warning: Contains scenes of non-metaphorical violence and political cruelty, including a fictionalized but entirely plausible act of assault. These are not abstract evils. They are drawn from the headlines, honed by history, and made visible on the page. Proceed with awareness.