The Yellow Deli was located in the historic Heritage House on Third Street in downtown Pulaski. Founded by the Twelve Tribes, a Christian cult organization that had originated in the early ’70s, the restaurant had opened its first location in Chattanooga, and since its arrival in Pulaski it had been a popular lunch-and-dinner spot for locals, tourists, and the students of Martin Methodist College. Because it remained open twenty-four hours a day from Sunday through Friday, served great coffee, and had a cozy atmosphere, the place was ideal for a college kid pulling an all-nighter to cram for a test or finish a research paper.

Michael Zannick enjoyed the food at the Yellow Deli, but even more than that, he loved the atmosphere and the diverse crowd. At noon on Wednesday, Zannick sat at his customary table upstairs and had his laptop out in front of him. He wore jeans, a black-and-gray Pearl Jam T-shirt, and a pair of red Chuck Taylor high-top Converse All Star tennis shoes with white laces. His tweed sports coat was wrapped around the back of his chair, and he was studying his computer with heightened focus. He’d already ordered his usual—the “Deli Rose,” which consisted of roast beef, corned beef, pepper jack and provolone cheeses, onions, a tomato, and spicy red sauce laid out on a homemade onion roll—and was now getting about the business of sending out his second round of tweets for the day.

General Lewis arrested for murder of ex-husband. #corruption

General Lewis, who accused me of bogus rape charges, now on trial for murdering her ex. #potandkettle #cleanhouse

Sack Glover, Lewis’s opponent in election, named acting DA. #justice #makeitpermanent

Zannick surveyed his three rapid-fire tweets and saw what he had expected. Each had already been retweeted seven times in the first fifteen seconds after he’d pressed the “Tweet” button. When you had 1.2 million followers, that tended to happen. And though Giles County wasn’t the most social media–savvy place in the world, the young voters—the ones who pulled all-night study sessions at the Yellow Deli—paid attention.

“Hey, Mike,” a young man said as he passed by with a couple of books under his arm.

“What’s up, Thad. How’s school?”

“It’s killing me, sir.” The kid, who was a sophomore at Martin Methodist College, gave Zannick a sheepish smile. “Got a history paper due Friday and a huge calculus quiz on Monday. You’ll probably see a lot of me here the next few days.”

“Good luck.”

Thad frowned. “I heard your trial got continued.”

Zannick nodded. “The prosecutor was charged with murder. Can you believe it?”

“Case should’ve been dismissed by now anyway,” Thad said. “Do you ever read the blog Casimir’s Vine?”

Though he was the one responsible for the website named in honor of the town’s founder, Casimir Pulaski, Zannick furrowed his brow in feigned confusion. “Is that something put out by the college?”