Eavesdropping on Barack & Rahm – UPDATE

During the 2008 campaign, I wrote a little playlet wherein Candidate Obama–his poll numbers dipping with the emergence of Gov. Palin–visited Bill Clinton for advice on how to win.

Don Clinton: (leering a little) She’s got nice legs, that Governor p*tana, eh? I wouldn’t mind me some of that. Get me an Executive Office Spanking in Anchorage, that’s what I say, Haw Haw! Get us a game of “Mayor, May I? Haw! That li’l girl’s got spunk. I love spunk. My ol’ consigliere and her oughta get together, they both know how to kill and dress all different kinds of –

The One: (with dignity) I beg your pardon?

Don Clinton: (remembers himself, shrugs and smokes) Women’ll stick a shiv under your ribs any chance they get; they’re full of surprises. (Leans forward and taps his desk) And you mind this, sir, that bearskin mama ain’t no chump. That there is a full-on-she-grizzly, with all the smarts she needs. She knows energy and she knows oil, and she can hand you your ass quicker than I can get into trouble with a blonde. (Sighs) I like ’em blonde. The bottle-kind of blonde.

The One: (Looking askance at Don Clinton, who has gone dreamy-eyed) Well, this one sure surprised me.

Don Clinton: (laughing and smoking) Son, when you’ve lived longer, you’ll know there’s a surprise in every one of ’em. And a shiv. And no matter what, the shiv always comes.

The One: Well, she’s not going to shove one in me…I will not be bullied and mistreated like this!

Don Clinton: Oh, get yourself a hankie, Candace, and stop bleedin’ all over my rug. The more you whine and cry the more that li’l Alaskan hootchi-goo is gonna laugh while she grinds the stiletto heel of those cute little size sevens straight through your pericardium and into your heart before you even know what’s happened!

The One: (falls to the floor in contrite supplication) Help me, Godfather, help me! What do I do? How do I get this mean girl to stop beating me up, and reclaim my glamor, my “it” factor? My minions in the press have been going after her with everything they have, and they’re getting booed! Next “I” might get booed, oh, what do I do –

Don Clinton: (leaps from his chair and smacks The One twice on the face, smack! smack!) You can be man! Be a man!

The One: (pathetic) I don’t know how. I just…don’t know how.

Don Clinton: (Sighing and taking pity) I know, kid. Hard to know what that is, anymore, ain’t it? Our whole sex has been cuckolded by the Official Women and their Eunuchs. But you’ve got to grow yourself a pair, and quick.

The One: I’ll do anything! Anything, Godfather! It’s just that she’s coming on strong and Biden keeps making up the weirdest damn stories, and besides he scares me with that doll hair…

This morning, pondering the emergence
of President Obama’s hitherto unrecognized tendencies to go rootin’-tootin’-ass-kickin’ all over whoever the smart people tell him to, I considered revisiting the playlet; I envisioned Don Clinton, in grey sweats and Cuban stogie, a towel around his neck, channeling Angelo Dundee and bringing in Hillary (hooded and pounding the air, just waiting for a chance to knock someone out) for a few rounds of sparring. You know, “Hillary come teach this greenhorn how to throw a punch,” and Hillary–finding a welcome outlet for decades of frustration–comes the destructor all over Obama and Bill and then goes out and finds Rahm Emmanuel and Robert Gibbs and decks them, too.

But then I read Brian Saint-Paul’s beautifully succinct scenario and realized it couldn’t be improved upon:

Rahm Emmanuel: Mr. President, you need to toughen up about this oil spill, because you look like a *****. A little, pigtailed, tea-party dress wearing, oversized lollipop licking *****.

President Obama: I see. And what would you suggest?

Rahm Emmanuel:
Well, Cupcake, I’d suggest you pretend Michelle married a real man and get out there with some ******* profanity. That lets the dummies know you’re serious.

You’ll want to read the whole thing. Put down the coffee, first.

I’m thinking all this needs is one of Brian J’s expert photoshops, and we have a hit.

UPDATE: And, here is Brian J’s offering:

Meanwhile, in a tweet, Newbusters notes: You know what the MSM loves? Phony anger from Democratic Presidents.

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