[Disclaimer: This article is satire, or what we used to call "fake news" before actual fake news started poisoning the political discourse!]
An interview with Hillary Clinton, the presumed next Democratic candidate for president
Even though former First Lady Hillary Clinton has not officially announced her candidacy, her recent speaking engagement demands sure make her seem like a candidate for the highest office of the land.
Some of the demands this formerly “dead broke” ex-White House resident is currently making are to only stay in the Presidential Suite of five-star hotels (presumptive if you ask me) after being flown there in a private Gulfstream G450 (on the foundation’s dime, of course).
In addition, her standard speaking contract states that she will stay at the event for no more than 90 minutes and pose for no more than 50 photographs with no more than 100 people. There will be no audio or video recordings allowed and the sole record of the event will be made by the former First Lady’s stenographer in shorthand.
I can’t find one sketchy, non-transparent thing about this arrangement. Can you? In fact, since Mrs. C is clearly the only possible female candidate on the planet that is capable of becoming the first female POTUS (and not any of the other 158 million women who are citizens of the United States), I’ve arranged a brief interview with Mrs. C to discuss her forthcoming coronation.
She accepted my request, so long as it is held at her small, $1.3 mill cottage in Chappaqua, New York. Done! I have no problem condescending and stepping inside her small hovel.
When I arrive, Mrs. C is attempting to exude a domestic persona by demonstrating her ability to do some light housework. As I am let into the house, I am directed towards the sitting room just off of the main hallway near the entrance.
I assume that she knows that I’m there, but she doesn’t seem to notice as she busily lifts one corner of the large, plush Flokati rug in the middle of the room. Her assistant politely coughs to get her attention. My curiosity has been piqued to see exactly what Mrs. C is sweeping under the rug.
We greet each other warmly and she graciously points to a comfortable chair a few feet from where she is now sitting. We chit chat briefly about generic topics before I indicate that I’d like to start asking the more meaty questions. At this point, Mrs. C develops a husky cough that she can’t seem to squash, even with a sip of water from a water bottle nearby. She politely excuses herself from the room.
Rather than twiddle my thumbs or doodle on my notebook, I let my curiosity get the better of me and scoot to the end of my seat so that I can lift the corner of the carpet with my right foot. Underneath, I am shocked to see several notecards with words on them. How mysterious. I look towards the door to the room to see if anyone is coming. It’s clear.
I reach down and pick up the loose cards and shuffle them into a stack. I dare not steal them, since I’m sure to be found out. Surely there are cameras in some or all of the rooms. I read what is written on the first card: Benghazi.
This is very strange. Why would she be sweeping cards with words under her sitting room rug?
I continue reading the cards, one after another: Whitewater, Vince Foster, State Department Incompetence, Ethics Lapses, Missing Documents, Black Panthers, Oil Connections, Venom and Gall, Bosnia Sniper Fire Lie, Tax Returns, Shady Donations, Health Care Reform Implosion; and one last card, Mass Hypocrisy.
I am shocked! I don’t know what to make of all of these cards. All I know is what I saw when I was standing just outside of the room watching her busily sweep them under the rug.
Just then, Mrs. C steps back into the room, clearly recovered from her coughing ordeal. She immediately sees the carpet corner flipped back and what I’m holding in my hands. I stare back at her and hold the cards up as if I’m a magician asking a guest to pick a card for a trick.
“But, why?” I ask her.
With her arms folded in front of her and one eyebrow slightly cocked upwards, she replies: “What difference does it make?”
Now that the interview is over, I’ve had some time to ponder everything that happened; the sweeping, the cards, the words. I’ve come to the conclusion that Hillary Clinton will actually fit in quite nicely in the Oval Office of the White House after all.
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