You are eaten by a Deficit Hawk.
Years of cigarette smoking leave you winded, and you find you cannot outrun the hawk. Panting, you turn and try to reason with it.
"Listen, hawk, let's talk this over," you say, deploying the good-natured charisma that has won you success throughout your time in politics.
"SKWAAAAAAWWWWK!" the hawk replies. Its fiscal rage cannot be sated.
Your political career withers on a once-promising vine, as you lose reelection to a tea partier with little experience.