Fred was rolling in money after his recent financial settlements. Deciding to party for a while with his new robotic suit, he decided to head way up north and visit the Minnesota State Fair, a gathering where everyone forgets how they look and wears shorts, where 98% of the male population puts on a baseball cap and looks manly, and everyone pretends to have a good time, even if they are sick and paid too much for their food.

Walking in through the main gate, Fred was bombarded with the sights and smells of thousands of people. Parents pushed their kids along the streets, almost exactly like a mother duck and her eggs. Teenagers with girlfriends paraded around, arms in a death grip around each other, afraid they will be perceived as losers for not looking like everyone else. Those without semi-significant others stood in small groups, looking cool while actively looking for groups of the opposite gender. Worst off of them all, Fred noticed, were those with their families, trying to keep their distance as much as possible without their parents noticing either. In the end, everyone noticed and no one thought they were cool, the ultimate pursuit of the teenage population.

Ignoring the crowds for the moment, Fred made his way to the arcade. Feeding a 5 dollar bill into the change machine, he was soon running about like a bull in China. After pouring 2 dollars in change into the biggest machine in the building, he was pouring bullets into aliens. He survived for 30 seconds before dieing. The machine offered him a continue for only $1.75, but he declined. It seemed the game was designed to kill him quickly, not for enjoyment. Circling around the arcade, it seemed the only games that lasted more then 2 minutes were the old school games, where with sufficient skill, you could play for half an hour without dying. Lamenting the sad state of the modern video game, he left the arcade for the much more important political forums.

After finding his quarters lasted even less at the DFL building, he went to the GOP building. When they noticed he was a large business owner, they welcomed him in, asking for tips on their next lawsuits against end users. They gave him offers of millions of dollars to sell RTFM, but he declined. Offering to tax the poor instead of him, he realized they were not any better then the DFL, so he left again.

Fred, giving the Fair one last chance to prove itself, walked into the Midway. He was not amused by the thrill rides, so he walked up to one of the games of skill. Paying his money to the operator, he picked up a toy gun and took at the target. The gun was poorly made, and he was unable to shoot out the star before running out of ammo. Paying for another game, he charged his Ray beam of Doom, and fired at the star in conjunction with the bb gun. The star burst into flames, as well as the wall behind it. A terrible boom shook the area, the Farris Wheel wobbled back and forth, and he was soon surrounded by security guards. Fred was thrown out of the Great Get-together, and walked the long mile back to his car, and he started down the long road home. He had learned a great deal about people today, and some lessons he would never forget. Others would soon be discarded. Either way, Fred pulled out of his parking spot and hit the road on his Tour of America.