Willard "Mitt" Romney sat up perfectly straight in the chair, thanks to all the hours he had practiced posture during his time as a missionary in France.
Barack Obama leaned in, the musk of his socialist aftershave thrusting into Romney's nostrils.
"Youre one of us now, Mitt."
Barack Obama leaned in, the musk of his socialist aftershave thrusting into Romney's nostrils.
"Youre one of us now, Mitt."
"For heaven's sake, No," Romney whispered, thinking of how he was betraying all those hours in temple, the days spent carrying the Elder's knapsack, the caffeine-free nights during the early years of his marriage. All for naught.
"Yes," Obama replied, his forked tongue showing.
"Yes," Obama replied, his forked tongue showing.
The former governor of Massachusetts and 7-time Best Boy at Bain Capital was trapped. He'd signed the document offered by Obama, ensuring a landslide election in Utah secured by the Deep State. But now, to pay off his debt, he was a mole.
Romney had tasted the sweet nectar of political power and had spent the last few years jonesing for another taste. He felt confident about winning Utah, but Obama had offered him a sure thing.
"You'll spy for me, see," Obama said, puffing on a Jazz cigarette like a hep cat.
"You'll spy for me, see," Obama said, puffing on a Jazz cigarette like a hep cat.
Romney nodded submissively, his perfectly coiffed hair refusing to move a single inch. "Father would not approve," Romney thought, again feeling any chance of living up his legendary forebear slip away. It was election night 2012 all over again.
"I don't trust him, Barack," said Michelle, nervously shifting her edition of Mao's Little Red Book from hand to hand. "He's one of the God believers, and they always want to ruin our Lord Satan's business."
"I know," Obama replied. "But he's a junkie. A power junkie."
"I know," Obama replied. "But he's a junkie. A power junkie."
A tear rolled down Romney's face, sliding down to his perfect chin and evaporating into nothingness.
It was true. All of it.
Obama had him. Again. His stomach churned and flip flopped. He thought happy thoughts.
The car elevator.
It was true. All of it.
Obama had him. Again. His stomach churned and flip flopped. He thought happy thoughts.
The car elevator.
"We've got a lot of plans for you, double agent Romney," Michelle Obama said with an evil grin. "Binders full of them."
Romney sighed.
"Please proceed," he finally croaked. "Please. Proceed."
Romney sighed.
"Please proceed," he finally croaked. "Please. Proceed."
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