(This imaginary conversation between Bill and Hillary is intended for mature audiences only):
HIM: Woman, what are you callin’ about now? I told you not to bother me after 8pm.
HER: What the (expletive) are you doing?
HIM: (whispering) Baby, I’ll just be a minute….don’t go.
HER: Who the (expletive) are you talking to?? Don’t you know we’ve got a (expletive, expletive) crisis on our hands?
HIM: Sweetheart, I think we ought to face some cold, hard facts here.
HER: Are you (expletive) kidding me?? I humiliated myself for you, you jackass. I lied for you. I covered for you. I sweated bullets for you. All for our twenty year, 4-term plan. And now it’s falling apart, and you’re AWOL!
HIM: I’m not AWOL, honey. I’m with you.
HER: Oh sure. You GOT your two terms! What about me? Where are MY two terms?
HIM: (giggling) You so crazy!
HER: BILL! Who are you (expletive)?
HIM: Woman, it’s Valentine’s Day, my busiest day. Cut me a break, will you?
HER: If the press doesn’t see some (expletive) roses from you, I am personally going to kill you. And then I’m going to throw a tarp over your (expletive) body.
HIM: Now, now, no reason to get dramatic, honey.
HER: NO REASON TO GET DRAMATIC?! We are about to lose the presidency to some vapid upstart, and all you can think about is your (expletive)?
HIM: No worries, sweet pea. I’ll go out tomorrow and work my magic.
HER: Your (expletive) "magic" got us into this (expletive) mess. I need you to get more aggressive with the superdelegates. Twist some arms.
HIM: (whispering) I’ll give you something to twist….
HER: BILL! Would you put it back in your pants for half a second and get on the horn to the supers?
HIM: Honey, I hate to break this to you, but I have been calling them, and frankly, they don’t like you much.
HER: But they like YOU! So promise them (expletive). Or threaten them. Or sleep with them. I don’t care. Just get it DONE.
HIM: I can sleep with them? Really? The only hot one is…
HER: BILL! FOCUS!
HIM: You’re ruining my mojo.
HER: You know what people are saying? They’re saying that you’ve LOST your mojo. That’s right. Gone.
HIM: Why? Because even I can’t help your flaccid candidacy? I’m a superstar, honey, not a miracle worker.
HER: I should’ve known you were going to (expletive) me in the end.
HIM: You WISH I’d (expletive) you!
HER: Please. I was over that 25 years ago. And even then, it wasn’t so great.
HIM: I’ve got to go.
HER: Bill, you get those supers to pledge to us or I will go to E! with your TRUE Hollywood story.
HIM: You wouldn’t dare.
HER: Don’t push me.