Bumpkin the Deceiver

The deceiver herself: Bumpkin

Bumpkin is the penultimate deceiver.  She is young, cute, and furry.  If someone saw her, they might think, How cute, she must have a walnut-sized brain!  I don't care what the size of Bumpkin's brain is, it's good enough to get the job done.  Bumpkin was thinking about making the jump from mayor of Rochester (She slew the one before her.), to ruling the entire Planet Earth and all of its inhabitants.  She has pondered the move some more since then and has decided to settle for county executive of Monroe County for now.  She said she wants to make sure she's ready when she takes on the entire Planet Earth and all of its inhabitants.  This was her original plan, so perhaps her next step will be to take over the governorship of the state of New York and rename it New Bumpkin.  
I had to look up the directions for the county executive's office on Mapquest, which has never really let me down.  As is my custom, in lieu of printing out the directions, I wrote them down in an effort to save money.  Then I was ready to take the new county executive to her new office.  Well there was a formality to take care of.  The current county executive must somehow be removed from office.  It was a short, pleasant drive.  Bumpkin sat quietly and didn't toss any lethal fireballs out of her left front paw.  Shockingly, she didn't ask me very many questions at all.   We arrived at the building.  I held the door open for her, and she walked in.  I had all the address info, but I checked the plaque anyway.
One of the security guys finally noticed Bumpkin.  "Hey, there's no rodents allowed in here!"  Bumpkin never even looked at the man.  As soon as the R-word had been uttered, she fired one of her fireballs out of her left paw, which struck the security guard hard: knocking him backward several feet into the glass doors, which subsequently shattered, which rained broken glass onto the security guard.  Once Bumpkin found out that the word "rodent" put her into a group that rats belonged to, that totally grossed her out and she won't, for a second, tolerate anyone who tries to group her with some hygienically-challenged rats, as the security guy found out the hard way. 
We finally found the county executive's office after Bumpkin efficiently dispatched the rest of the building's security force within a matter of a few seconds.  She didn't even perspire.  I know, because I know what her perspiration smells like.  It smells like dandelions, grass, and other weeds, because that's what she eats.
"This is Bumpkin," I introduced her to the current county executive.  "She intends to be the new county executive, effective immediately, or she will seize control of the office."
"Yeah, that's fine with me.  She's got it.  She's the new county executive.  I think I'll be leaving now."
Clearly, she believed the rumor that the mayor of Rochester had been slayed by a young groundhog named Bumpkin.  She also probably concluded that it wasn't a coincidence.  She didn't want to have her head separated from the rest of her body, not with fireballs, nor at the business ends of Bumpkin's razor-sharp claws.  However, as she was making her way out of the office, Bumpkin fired a little fireball that hit the former county executive on the backside.  It made her jump from surprise and it singed her skirt, but she hadn't been injured.
"What, pray tell, was that for?"
"For being a coward," I translated for her after Bumpkin answered, telepathically, inside my head instantly.
"Gee whiz, you can't win with these freaking groundhogs!  She singed my best skirt; it's history now!"
"You're lucky to be alive!" I yelled at her.  "Have you any idea how many lives she's taken?  Of course not, you're just like anybody else, you haven't yet met the next supreme ruler of the Planet Earth!  Well, you just did, and I suggest you remember her!  Maybe, if you rush fast enough to kiss her ring, or her feet, the next time you see her, and you will see her again, I guarantee it, then it just might save your life!"  And with that, she left.  I walked back into Bumpkin's office.  I couldn't see her.
"Bumpkin?" I asked.
"I'm over here," she said.  I hadn't been able to see her because she was sitting on her new chair at her new desk, which weren't custom-made for a young groundhog county executive.  What a cutie!  Aside from the security guards, who, let's face it, don't really count anyway, she killed no one.  Not the county executive, nor anyone on the way over here.  The ride back would be another story.