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The following telephone conversation between Bill and Hillary Clinton is purely fictional (I think).

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Guess What Client Number I Am?

The following telephone conversation between Bill and Hillary Clinton is purely fictional (I think).

The following telephone conversation between Bill and Hillary Clinton is purely fictional (I think):

(Ring!)

HER: What?

HIM: How’s my meal ticket back to the White House?

HER: I could ask you the same question.

HIM: I know it, baby. It’s good to be out there, campaigning again. House arrest was getting more boring than testifying before a grand jury.

HER: I’ve let you out of the barn, but with the proviso that you don’t do anything to (expletive) this up. We’re on the cusp here. I can feel it. The Reverend Wright stuff worked like a (expletive) charm.

HIM:
I am so proud of you, Sugar. Dropping the Wright sermons on Obama like that was (expletive) genius. Reminds me of me.

HER: We probably should have used this stuff sooner, because it’s working. His poll numbers are dropping faster than your inhibitions at the Vanity Fair Oscar party.

HIM: I am loving watching him pull the whole Deer in the Headlights routine. “Who, me?” “I did not know anything about any sermons.” Doesn’t he know only I can get away with that kind of B.S.?

HER: I’m thinking we let this fester for a few more days. Let him twist in the wind a little more. Let’s see him try to reconcile the black radical he’s been going to for “spiritual guidance” for 20 years with his image as the trans-racial Hope Guy.

HIM: He stole my act, man. I’m the original Hope Guy. The disrespect!

HER: I’ve got Wright tapes coming out of my (expletive) ears. I need you to start a new assault on the supers. Remind them that their beloved Hope Guy is a fraud with bad judgment.

HIM: Uh, sweet pea. “A fraud with bad judgment?” Are you sure you want me to deliver that particular message?

HER: Do I need to do everything myself?

HIM: Honey, while I was in your imposed exile, I was thinking about that red-phone ad…you know, the whole “whom do you trust in an international crisis” deal.

HER:
Another thing that worked like a (expletive) charm.

HIM: True. But here’s the deal, baby: they aren’t voting for you because they trust YOU. They are voting for you because they trust ME. So here’s what I’m thinking: the first thing we do when we move back in—by the way, do you think they’ll notice when the moving guys haul in some of the furniture we stole?

HER:
I don’t have all day. What’s your point?

HIM: The first thing we do is install conference-calling, so when that red phone rings, I’m immediately conferenced in.

HER: It’s always about you.

HIM: Careful, sweet pea. You wouldn’t be here but for me.

HER:
Listen, jackass. We’ve got real (expletive) to worry about. McCain is on a commander-in-chief tour of the Middle East, and I’m stuck knee-deep in this campaign B.S., having to swat away this ridiculous upstart. He’s really starting to (expletive) me off. Now that you’re divesting from Burkle and got time on your hands, will you make yourself useful and come up with a way to finally put Obama away for good?

HIM: Well, the thing I know best—girls—-doesn’t seem to be one of his temptations, so I guess that’s out. Whew—we dodged a bullet with the Spitzer hooker thing, huh?

HER: If you are Client #8, I will personally kill you.

HIM: Girl, please. I’ve never had to pay for it. And by the way, same here, sweetheart: YOU’D better not be Client #8.

HER: Just focus on getting Obama out of my hair. I’ve got to get myself on a Commander-in-Chief tour. I can’t be wasting any more time with this primary idiocy.

HIM: I’ve got it! I’ll bring it back to the Muslim thing, but I’ll do it stealth-like.

HER: I’m intrigued. Go on.

HIM: OK. Follow me here. We’ve already leaked some of the Muslim stuff, right?

HER: Yeah. And then we did our due diligence “disavowing” ourselves from it, sort of like the way he “disavowed” Wright.

HIM: Oh honey, your line “he’s not a Muslim…as far as I know” was so good, I almost wanted you. Now we take it up a notch.

HER:
I’m listening.

HIM: Nobody’s buying Obama’s nonsense that he sat in Wright’s pews for 20 years, and now he’s shocked—shocked!—to hear that Wright has been saying this stuff. So WE suggest that’s like somebody taking Friday prayers at Moqtada al-Sadr’s mosque for 20 years and then saying, “Gosh! I don’t really believe all that radical stuff.”

HER: The Muslim stuff AND the Wright stuff. Brilliant.

HIM: Two birds with one stone.

HER: Even though the polls show you’re a net drag on me, you’re not totally useless.

HIM: Stick with me, sweetheart. Have I ever let you down?

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Written By

Monica Crowley, Ph.D., is a nationally syndicated radio host and television commentator. She has also written for The New Yorker, The Wall Street Journal, The Los Angeles Times, The Baltimore Sun and The New York Post. www.monicamemo.com.  Follow her on Twitter: @MonicaCrowley.

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