Dear Patriot,

I want you to stand at that voting counter with me.

Minneapolis. Primary day. I lean in and ask the election judge one question: how many people am I allowed to vouch for?

"Eight."

Not one. EIGHT.

So I tell her exactly what she is agreeing to. These people are not registered. They have no ID. No license, no bill, no paperwork of any kind.

She does not blink. She does not hesitate. She says:

"You are the ID."

I said it back to her, just to be sure I had heard it right. I am the ID. She agreed.

Help me tear this open.

That single sentence is the entire wall standing between a legitimate election and a fraudulent one. Not a database, not a document, not a verification of any kind. One man's word, accepted at the counter.

Now let me show you how deep this particular hole actually goes, because every single thing I am about to tell you makes the thing before it considerably worse.

EIGHT. Minnesota law permits one registered voter to swear an oath that eight other people live in his precinct, and on the strength of that oath alone those eight individuals register on the spot and vote that same day. Not one piece of documentation ever changes hands.

UNLIMITED. Then you read the sentence that comes immediately after it: "This limitation does not apply to an employee of a residential facility." If you happen to work at a nursing home, the eight-person cap disappears entirely. There is no number written anywhere. There is no ceiling at all.

NOBODY WRITES IT DOWN. Scott Pressler's team requested a list of the people who had been vouched in from four different Minnesota cities: Minneapolis, St. Paul, Duluth and St. Cloud. All four came back with nothing whatsoever, because that list does not exist anywhere in the state. An election worker circles a number on a form, and that circled number is the entire permanent record. Pressler describes these voters as nameless, faceless and recordless.

AND YOU CAN NEVER TAKE IT BACK. Those ballots drop straight into the pile alongside everyone else's and are counted immediately. America First Legal put the consequence in writing to Minnesota's Secretary of State back in June: once the ballots have been commingled, pulling them back out again is simply impossible.

Sit with that for a moment.

Somebody lies on that oath, and you catch him three weeks later with a recorded confession on video, and none of it matters in the slightest. The votes have already been counted, the winner has already been sworn into office, and there is no undo button, no list to check, and nothing whatsoever to audit, because nothing was ever written down in the first place.

The only lock on that door is a stranger's promise, and nobody bothers checking the promise until long after the door has already swung open.

So on August 11 we went and knocked on it. Keep us knocking — give $35, $50 or $100.

Polling place after polling place, I said the quiet part out loud every single time. They are not registered. They have no identification. There are eight of them. May I bring them?

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

One judge was so obliging that she walked me through the entire procedure as though she were signing me up for a library card, and another one assured me that the whole arrangement was a good thing.

Now let me tell you what we did NOT do, because this matters to me more than any footage ever will.

We never brought anyone inside that building. We never registered a single human being. We never cast one ballot. Not one.

We asked the question, we caught the answer on camera, and we walked straight back out the door. That has been the rule for as long as I have been doing this work, and it is not negotiable. We film the hole in the fence. We never climb through it. The day we break that rule is the day every tape we have ever made becomes worthless.

Here is the clock.

America starts voting on September 19, which is twenty-nine days from today.

Minnesota is ONE state, and we were on the ground there for ONE afternoon. We uncovered every bit of this simply by walking through a door and asking a question that apparently nobody had ever bothered to ask out loud before.

Now consider every other state in the country with same-day registration on the books. Consider the thousands of polling places this fall that nobody will ever walk into carrying a camera, for the simple reason that there is nobody available to carry one.

That is the entire reason I am writing to you.

You cannot take a week off work to stand in a Minneapolis polling place. But you can sponsor someone who will.

You fund the mission, my team takes the risks, and you and your family watch the results land with your own eyes. Are you in?

Thank you for all that you do, and please . . . stay tuned.

P.S. "You are the ID." An election judge said those words directly to my face, on camera, in America, in 2026. Eight votes, no proof, no record, and no way on earth of ever taking them back. And I uncovered the whole thing by asking one simple question at a counter. Imagine what is sitting untouched in the other forty-nine states, waiting for somebody to walk in and ask it. Chip in $35 now and let me go find out.