“Arf!
Arf!
Arf!
Arf ”
~Hillary Clinton
Interviewer: Welcome back to New York, Madame Secretary, and many thanks for granting me this rare personal interview.
Secretary Clinton: I’d like to say it’s my pleasure, but we both know it’d just be bull pucky. I’m only here because my advisors insist I need to practice how to [mocking sissy voice] relate to ordinary people.
Understood.
Uh-huh. Then you also understand that this interview is just practice for letting the real me out. So you know what to do with the audio files, right?
Of course. This interview never happened.
Exactamundo. So let’s get this nonsense over with. Where’s my throne... I mean, where would you like me to sit...?
Can we offer you something to drink... tea, coffee, whatever?
No thanks. I had a few before I came to your little studio. [crazy laughter]. Helps me sound happy chatting with the little people, especially rabid conservatives like you... uh-huh... my investigators informed me you are a sneaky little O’Reilly wanna-be.
Ahem. Well, even though I am part of your famous vast right-wing conspiracy, I have to admit... I find you... well [blush] very attractive.
[Somewhat taken aback] Really? Oh, you mean in the political sense?
Sure, that. But I also mean as... you know... a woman.
[Tossing her hair] Well bless your little Dixie heart.
Heck, next to you, Carly, Sarah and Liz are like school marms.
[Her voice warms up considerably] Hmm... maybe my investigators got you all wrong. It's no secret they bungle everything [crazy laughter]. Now take Liz Warren, that ol’ Native American. Yeh, she’s an Indian like I’m a Yankee fan. Maybe I will have that drink. JayDee, rocks, twist. Oh hell, make it a double, sugar.
Speaking of secrets, let’s start with that big ol’ private server and all those secret eMails of yours that got lost or tossed? How are you... going to handle that if it comes up in the debates?
Oh sure, the damned Republicans would like me to tell all about the ones I sent to Susan Rice, uh-huh, or the big stack of 'em threatening Trey Gowdy. Or maybe about the guy Bubba hired to beat the crap out of Harry Reid?
Well... okay... how about those?
Uh-huh, yeh, like I did any of that. I barely know how to type, do I look like a damn computer turkey?
Tekkie?
Look, I don’t claim to have invented the innernet like old Fat Albert. My little people take care of all that crap. They say they scrubbed it hard... like Pelosi’s face.
Isn’t there a law against trashing government property like that?
Did you just fall off the turnip truck? We know what the law says, and no reputable lawyer would have trashed that server and all those eMails... but, c’mon, I’m not that kind of a lawyer. Uh-huh. I’m Bill “It-depends-what-the-meaning-of-‘is’-is” Clinton’s wife. The law is for you little people. Not for us.
Right, right.
Uh-huh. You know, sugar... this innerview is going much better than I expected. How’my doing so far? Do I sound like I’d be connecting with real people? How ‘bout a refill, my glass is empty.
Sure. Well, now that you’ve announced you’re running, can we talk about your strategy in your campaign for the presidency...
No.
But if you’re running for president, shouldn’t voters know what you stand for? Not that most young people, freeloaders or liberals really care... after all, you’re a woman, right?
Damn straight, I am. Every elite inch of me.
But I mean there are a lot of political issues boiling these days.
Oh but but but. Look, sugar... it’s time America had a woman president, and I’m that woman. Uh-huh. Everybody knows my name. So why in hell should I risk revealing my inability to grasp urgent issues by trying to answer important questions? Duh. We have our first African-American president, and now it’s my turn. Uh-huh. If you disagree, you are, plain and simple, a misojo... mincelo... missagyn... you hate gals.
There are serious threats coming from everywhere in the world now. Don’t voters have a right to know what you plan to do about Iran, ISIS, North Korea, China, Putin, the astronomical national debt, high unemployment, crime, drugs and all the rest?
Uh-huh. I’m having a bunch of “RESET” buttons made up.
But that didn’t work too well last time you tried it.
[Cough, cough, cough!] That’s because my idiot staff made them the wrong color. Uh-huh. They were red. Think about it. How dumb was it to give a Russian a “red” button. They probably thought we were mocking their communist party. Or maybe it was about that old Jewish comedian, Red Buttons... who in hell knows. Worst of all; red means stop. It should have been green. Like GO. Speaking of green, honey, how do you like my expensive vivid color pantsuits?
Very nice, very nice. Now, how about Benghazi...
Ben? F’get Ben. Do green suits make my ass look bigger? I noticed your assistant was staring.
No, no. Not big. I mean not, y’know... giGANtic. Of course guys like Sweet Stick over there probably consider ‘big’ a great asset.
“Great Ass-et!” [crazy laughter] I love it! Uh-huh, uh-huh! I’ll have some Tee shirts made up. Oh yeh, while we’re on the subjeck of T-shirts, do you think my boobs are sagging too low?
Uh... what?
Boobs! Boobs! My girls. What do you jerks expect at my age... perky? Zzat what you vote for!? These hooters have been around the world more than a few times. Uh-huh. So waddya think, sugar. Should I lift ‘em like this...
Well... I... I... I...
Or more like THIS...
Whoa!
Oh, c’mon sugar, don’t be shy...
Can we get back to the issues...?
Oopsies, my glass is elty... emily... empty again; how about another beer, mate? F’get the glass. Who the hell is this Ben Gazzi jerk anyway? [crazier laughter]
It’s where we lost our Ambassador... a personal friend of yours if I am not mistaken... and several heroic Americans, under your watch, Ms. Clinton.
Oh, that.
It’s just like I told those ass-wipes... what dil.. dilf... diflerence, at this point, does it make!? Okay, so I’m gonna do another appearance before the pussy commitee. Uh-huh, they said if I do it and give the Repulbucans their face time to grandstand, then they’ll go real easy on me in my campaign. Like when I was wearing one of these vivid green pantsuits and did that first appearance at that last stupid Congressional hearing.
With all due respect, Madam Secretary, Americans didn’t like your answer about what difference does it make. Polls show they thought it was kind of flippant.
Oh, they can flip this! Uh-huh. If all you media whores would just stop briningiging it up, then by erection, ha! I mean e-lec-tion time, all those dumb-ass voters won’t even revember.
That’s your whole campaign strategy? Stall, stall, stall, change the subject, and win on your womanhood?
Fukkin A!
Well...
Ooooo [squirms in her seat] I said a naughty word there, huh? ...Can y’all delete that...? Better still, let me do it. I love deleting stuff. You’re a doll.
On another subject, why did you claim all your grandparents were immigrants?
Hell, I saw how effective that kid – whatzizname? – Malcolm Rubio – his speech was, where he talked about his inna... imma... immigrant father, sooo...
Marco Rubio. But his is a true story. And it was more than just about his dad being an immigrant... it was about his dad’s personal sacrifice so his son could have a real shot at the American Dream. Didn’t you find that moving? Inspirational?
Uh-huh. Of course I found it inspititional. It inspired me to try and cash in on it. If I can get all those illegals and hil... hills... hilspanics giving me their votes and hard earned pesos, why not? They think Malco.. what’s izzname? Marco... they think he’s Marco Polo anyway.
Aha... so, that’s why you went to Chipotle and ordered a burrito bowl?
Oh, is that Hispanic? [crazy laughter] I saw the C-H-I and thought it had something to do with Chi-town. You know, Chicago, where I’m from. Or maybe pot.
But... burrito?
What... izzat some kind of ground burro meat, okay?... it did taste kind of horsey. Echhh. Is that what you common folks eat? I couldn’t wait to get back to my van and wash it down with some vintage champagne.
I see. I see. Now I really hate to bring this up, I mean about illegal donations to your campaign. There are a lot of accusations floating around out there about quid pro quo donations.
Lies. Just plain lies. I hate squid. It’s ditz... discussing... disgusting. Now listen to me, sugar... needer Bill nor I never, ever have squid.
Your donors never try to curry favor with you and Bill?
Kerry? Y’mean John Kerry? That ketchup king.
Ummm... no... no... curry favor...
Yuck! I can’t go near curry flavor! I mean Bill likes spicy things. You know. But not curry. We hate curry. You know how much Indian beer I had to swig over there in Nu... Nude... New Delhi just to get through a night of high paying speechifying? [raucus laughter]
So there's nothing to these reports that your “Foundation” received millions from abroad...
A... broad!? Are you insinuating that my husband has been fooling around again with some broad I don’t know about?
No, ma’m. I mean donors from foreign countries... people who gave you cash in return for things like, oh... say... your influencing the approval process of the sale of uranium stocks that put control of significant amounts of U.S. uranium ore into Russian hands, uranium which then might find its way to Iran in order to further their development of nuclear weapons which might bring that uranium back to the U.S. in the form of bombs? And other influence peddling along those lines?
That’s quite a mouthful there, sugar.
What about these reports?
Sugar, it's the political season, right? I am running for president, right? Your vast wight ring bunch are going to invent all kinds of schlitz in order to discredit me and Bubba. But, there is not a single shred of factual elvis... elvi...dence that we knowingly did any unlawful... um... stuff.
Knowingly?
Now don’t put words in my mouth, sugar. It’s just not ary... nanny... ANYthing they can prove. In polly... tics, it ain’t what’s “true” that counts... it’s what’s poo... proov... a...ble. Besides, my boy Barack an’ his onions... MINions... in the IRS FBI CIA, not to mention googles, have enough crap collected on all these pansy Congressmen to keep ‘em from comin’ after us [raucous laughter]
Whatsamatter sugar?
I... I... I’m speechless!
That’s the way we like it [wink]
With all these controversies, I wonder if your team has any concern about the Sanders challenge?
Who? Berpie... I mean Boynee? We think it’s a good thing. The Dam... demmon... democarthic Paltry deserves a choice. They don’t want a conoration. But if that Sanders fogey tries to knock this diamond-studded tiara off my beautifully styled hair, he’d better get ready to bleed.
Hillary, I have to admit I’m impressed by your ability to respond to my questions...
[Crazy laughter] Ha! Admit it, you din’t think I had a grasp of pelti... parttul... pertinent world issues, right?
No, it’s not that... I’ve just never seen anyone be able to answer anything after killing a couple of six-packs of Fosters.
Hey! [angry] Don’t bring up that Foster crap again! I didn’t kill Vince Foster or none-body else dammit!
No, no... I meant Foster’s Beer... Foster’s Beer.
Oh. [Crazy laughter] I can kill a fifth of Vince... I mean Jack... as good as any ol’ congressman. Clitary Hinton... Killary Clittory... I... I have a clean record. At least for a lawyer anyway. But y'know the State Department’s a great training ground for drinkers. Oh, not as good as living in the White House with Bubba, mind you.
How’s that?
Hell, you thing it wass eesee pretenning I din't see what wizz goin’ on in the Offal Orifice? You know. That chubby li’l slut an’ her tho... thon... thonggie.
Oh, I’m sorry. You mean that blue dress business. I didn’t mean to bring all those bad memories up.
Yeh, sure you din’t. [Lapses into sorrow] Her ‘n her damn blow dress... whaddever. Why do you thing I don lick to wear blew. Uh-huh. Green is GO! Set me up another one over here bartenner.
Well, our time is up, Madam Secretary. And not a moment too soon. I want to thank you again for your gracious... Ooops! Can I help you stand up?
Hey! Hey! Don’t touch me! Get outta my face.
[Shouts into her phone] ...Bill! ...Bill! Get your ass up here and help me to the van. You better not be screwin’ roun with that meter maid, dammit!
Oh, is the big black Scooby van outside? I’d love to see the inside.
Ha! I betchoo would, sugar.
[Shouts into her phone] Whaddya mean parked in a handicap zone? What!? DeBlasio made his cops tow it away!?
Uh-oh...
Damn that DeBallsio traitor... tryna stickinnit to me again... jus wait... jusss wait...
[To audio engineer] Okay, don’t forget to delete this file. This interview never happened [wink]
