Having happily averted Hillary Astrid’s wrath, Joe casually walked into the Oval while eating Flaming Hot Cheetos. He wiped his hand down the wall before licking his fingers. “Hilton, I don’t know what’s hotter between these Cheetos and you!” he yelped, nearly gagging.
Looking around at her Joint Chiefs of Staff, Hillary turned to Joe and clenched her jaw. “Leave.”
“Hold on, sugar cakes, I come with news.” For dramatic effect, he bowed his head and slammed the Cheetos to the floor.
“Hilton,” he said, grabbing her hand, “Bill just died.”
“Almost,” he said, giggling. “I told the fucker he has to chew his food. Everything isn’t pussy, you know?”
“Out,” she demanded, pushing him to the door.
“The fucker was fucking revived, Hillpot! And you were so close to finally getting to experience the The Biden. I heard those fuckers were planning to go to Hershey Park, and I’ll be damned if I don’t get to taste the Ferris Wheel!
She immediately squeezed his throat.
“Hilton!” he screeched, turning red, “I ate too many of those spicy shits, and the bloods not rushing to my cock!”
“Enough!” she said, nearly panicked. “Where’s Bill?”
“In the residence.”
“Is Paul with him?” she asked, rushing to the elevator.
Joe ran in front of her and blocked the lift. “Before you go up, I feel I should warn you.”
She licked her lips.
Joe looked down, so serious. “You should know that…I’m way too sexy for my shirt.”
“Shit!” Joe screamed, holding his cheek. “You know my dental history, Hillsex! What man in his 70s still has all his original teeth besides that fucker Bill?!”
Hillary rushed into the elevator with Kurt in tow.
Lying in bed with a cloth on his forehead, Bill carefully sipped warm, almond milk.
“How is it, Forty-two?” Paul asked, stroking his face.
Bill swallowed, still hoarse. “Warm and wet.” Weak, he sat up. “Like pussy, Paulie.”
“Bill?” Hillary cooed, rushing into the room. “Oh my God. Joe told me what happened,” she said, holding him close. “Are you alright?”
Bill nodded, face sandwiched between her breasts. “I…I saw the other side, Hill.”
She covered her mouth.
“Everything glowed, and my name was written in the Lambs Book of Life. Unfortunately, so was Jimmy’s.”
Hillary rolled her eyes.
“And I saw—“ he said, suddenly taking her nipple into his mouth.
“God!” Paul yelped.
“Saw what, honey?” she cooed.
Not wanting her to know about Barbara, Bill shook his head. “Cherubs,” he mumbled.
Confused, Paul furrowed his brow.
Bill nodded, looking so pitiful. “They’re extra fat babies, Hill. Definitely breastfed.”
She held him close, so happy he was okay. “I’ll cancel the rest of my meetings,” she said, stroking his face as he suckled. “And we can spend the day in bed.”
Bill’s eyes grew big. “No,” he said, panicked as he pulled away. “Don’t cancel anything.”
Hillary was stunned. “Are you sure?”
Bill locked eyes with Paul. “Positive, Hill. They say you’re the greatest president who’s ever lived, and uh, I’m not gonna fuck with your legacy.”
Confused, Hillary nodded and kissed his lips. “If you need anything,” she said, turning from Bill to Paul, “call me.”
“Will do, Hillary Senior.”
She nodded again before leaving the room. Bill closed his eyes.
Bill opened his eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell President Rodham about seeing Barbara Bush?”
“She wouldn’t’ve been able to handle it, Paulie!”
“You gave up a whole day of sex because of it, dude! What the fuck happened when you saw her?!”
Bill took a breath. “Barbara told me that I’m definitely gonna die before Hill.”
“You’ve always known that!”
“Quiet!” he yelped, coughing afterwards. He swallowed. “She told me to find Hill a second husband. I already had the idea in my head, but after seeing Barbara’s strangely powerful ghost, I don’t have an option!”
Paul closed his eyes. “Dude, I’m a scientist. You were having hallucinations.”
“I wasn’t, Paulie!”
“You were, dude! All your fears rushed to your head once you got to heaven. Barbara only said what you were already thinking.”
“That’s bullshit, Paulie! Barbara Bush told me to find someone for Hillary, and by God, I will!” he said, struggling to sit up. He grabbed the phone.
Bill dialed the number.
“What are you doing, Forty-two?!”
“Al?” Bill said.
“Al fucking Gore?!” Paul yelped, stunned.
Bill closed his eyes. “Yes, Al.” He rolled his eyes. “This fucking phone is solar powered, Al,” Bill said, shaking his head.
Tired from a long day in meetings, Hillary headed to the residence. As she did, she was stunned by the long line of people entering the Blue Room. “Al?” she asked, surprised to see him. “What’re you doing here?”
“Bill’s asked us to come,” he drawled, monotone.
She winced. “Why?”
Inside the Blue Room, Bill sat in a wheelchair as Paul stood next to him, dressed like an elf.
“Why the fuck did I have to wear this, dude?!”
“This setup reminds me of meeting Santa!” he said, wearing a Christmas hat. Coughing, he rubbed his throat and looked to the ceiling. “Alright, Barbara. I’m doing it.”
Against his will, an exasperated Kurt brought Al in.
“Mr. President,” Al drawled.
The two stared each other down. “There’re still no solar panels on the White House roof, but I guess that’s because certain people like to fly off of it.”
Bill clenched his jaw, motioning for Al to sit. “I only have a few questions for you,” Bill said, straightening his papers.
Bill nodded. “How long have you been single?”
“And the last time you ate ice cream?”
“I don’t know, Bill. You know I’ve never been a fan of dairy.”
Bill and Paul locked eyes, and Paul crossed Al’s name off the list.