Joseph Biden sat in a hard wooden chair in a little-used executive office in the White House. The two David's, Axelrod and Plouffe, stood behind him as President Obama paced back and forth in agitated fashion. Although no bright lights or rubber hoses were visible, Biden clearly resembled a hapless suspect who had been subjected to the third degree. His tie was unknotted, two hair plugs had worked loose, beads of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his hands were shaking violently. For the tenth time, he began muttering in a hoarse voice.
"I'm sorry, Mr. President, I didn't mean to jump the gun on the gay marriage issue. I wasn't thinking."
Obama stopped abruptly, placed his hands on his hips and scowled at his VP.
"Of course you weren't thinking! What would you think with? Every time you speak in public you're like a jack-in-the-box. There's no question you're going to pop out with a stupid remark, it's just a question of when. You knew I was planning on holding off until after the election to endorse gay marriage, but you just had to go out there and tell the world you loved the idea. You forced my hand!"
Biden's hands wandered nervously to his head and began patting down his fugitive hair plugs. The sudden, oppressive silence was shattered by the ringing of the telephone on the desk. Obama took the call, answering testily.
Michelle: Hi, baby.
Obama: Oh, hi. What's up? I'm kind of busy right now.
Michelle: Yeah, I know. You've been kind of busy ever since you came out for gay marriage. You've been sort of...you know...distant. Uninterested, if you know what I mean.
[Axelrod, who had been scribbling some notes in a small leather pocket notebook, frowned at his pen and clicked the button a few times, attempting unsuccessfully to resume writing; however, the instrument was out of ink. He asked the President if he had a pen. Obama covered the mouthpiece and said, "There's a box of them in that closet over there."]
Obama: Now, what were you saying?
Michelle: I hear voices. Er...male voices. What's going on?
Obama: What do you mean, "what's going on"? I'm having a meeting.
Michelle: Why aren't you in the Oval Office?
Obama: Well, if you must know, we're in one of the little out-of-the-way offices, giving Joe Biden a good working over.
Michelle: A good working over?
Obama: Yeah. Nothing too rough, though. He's still my main man.
Michelle: And by "main man", you mean...um...?
[Axelrod, who had retrieved a pen, tripped over the rug and fell full length on the floor.]
Michelle: "What was that noise?"
Obama: Oh, that was just Axelrod coming out of the closet.
Michelle [gasping]: David Axelrod?!? You're kidding!
[Axelrod picked himself up, hurried over to the desk and whispered in the President's ear, "Remember, sir, you have a two o'clock appointment."]
Obama: Ok, ok! Stop that, will you?
Michelle: Stop what?
Obama: Not you, Michelle, Axelrod's moustache was tickling my ear.
Michelle: *Sob*...Oh, Barack! *Click*
Obama cast a puzzled look at the phone and shrugged. "Where were we?"
Davod Plouffe spoke up. "Joe was getting ready to tell us about his upcoming speaking engagement."
Biden, who had been sagging like a daffodil in a dry vase, suddenly brightened.
"Yes, yes, I've got a completely non-controversial speaking gig."
"What would that be?" the President asked, eyeing Biden narrowly.
"I'll be addressing Navy personnel in Norfolk aboard the new aircraft carrier, the Gore Vidal.
"Ok, that's it! Plouffe, I think the troops in Afghanistan - the ones in the front lines - could use a little bucking up. Pack him off immediately. So long, Joe. Don't keep your head down on my account."