The sleeping quarters of President and Mrs. Obama in the White House, on the evening of the day on which the President has his first cabinet meeting.
Obama (climbing under the sheets): If I do say so myself, we got quite a lot accomplished today.
Michelle: I heard you were wonderful, honey! Very masterful, yet willing to lean on others for advice. Consensus-building; that’s a sign of real wisdom, and it makes up for a lack of experience. Not like Bush, always going off half-cocked, never paying attention to the experts.
Obama: Thanks, baby. Well, looks like another big day tomorrow so we’d better get some shut-eye (reaches over to the night table and puts out the light, then lifts his head and says in a raised voice): Good night, George! Good night, Wesley!
George Clooney: Good night Mr. Prez, good night Michelle.
Wes Clark: Good night, Mr. President, Good night Mrs. Obama.
Obama: Good night, John.
John Edwards (singing softly under the sheets, “You’re Havin’ My Baby”, accompanied by barely suppressed feminine giggles): Wha..? Oh, good night Mr. President, good night Michelle.
Obama: Who have you got there with you, John?
John Edwards: Sorry, sir, I can’t answer that. Attorney-client privilege, you know!
Loud snores, punctuated by fragments of sentences, come from a far corner of the room: *Z-z-z-z-z*….Yeah, give me the damn daybed…*Snkxx*…Whitey gets the Posturepedic mattress…*Hack! Splutter!*…Baptize…Janet Jackson…wet robe malfunction…y-e-a-h…*Z-z-z-z-z*…
Obama (whispering fondly): Good night, Reverend Wright.
* * *
In the wee hours of the morning…3 am…the emergency phone rings; Reverend Wright, coming back from his fourth trip to the bathroom growls irritably, “I’ll get it, I’ll get it…”