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Under an orange-pink sky nestled between palm trees and surrounded by an impenetrable moat, the tropical Clinton Compound couldn’t have looked any more serene.

“Ah…Ah…Aloha!” Bill cried causing a flock of seagulls to fly off quickly.

Inside and out of breath, Bill dismounted Hillary while wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

“Damn, baby. I don’t know if it’s the picturesque sunsets or the unlimited Pina Coladas, but my boy’s never enjoyed vacation more.”

Wearing nothing but a lei, Hillary grinned.

“This is the life,” Bill said, laying back and talking to the readers. “While the world is holed up due to a completely preventable pandemic, your favorite presidents are fucking on a private island in the Pacific.” He sneezed. “Wanna tell ‘em about it, Hill?”


“Oh, come on, baby. Say hi to the readers. No one’s ever seen us fuck more.” He furrowed his brow. “Except for Paulie. And maybe Kurt. But the readers are the only ones to enjoy it!”

Hillary rolled her eyes and said, “Hello.”

“That’s the spirit. Now I’m sure you guys are wondering how Billary ended up on ‘Clinton Cape,’ formerly known as ‘Bernie Sanders’ Private Island’.”

“BSPI,” Larry whispered, secretly filming them from the closet.

“And since it’s been a while, it’s my job to give you the tour! Wanna come along, Hill?”


He looked down. “I understand baby. I’m sure you’re stuffed after all the Billwurst and nuts you’ve had this morning.” He turned to the readers. “Let’s go!”


Walking through the house, Bill gave the tour. “This is the closet,” he said, pointing to a variety of Hawaiian shirts. “As you can see, Hillary’s side is empty because she’s been naked this whole time. Crazy how it took a pandemic for the girl to understand that she looks great in absolutely nothing!” He walked to the kitchen. “This is the nook,” he said, pointing to the small table. “I eat breakfast and Hillary here.” He walked a bit further. “And this is Paulie’s hideaway,” he said, standing outside of an unassuming door. “He doesn’t think I know about it, but I’ll be damned if I don’t touch everything he owns!” He swung open the door.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Paul screamed, stuffing himself with a bunch of Twinkies. “I told you this is my personal space!”

“Say hi to the readers, Paulie!”

“We’re back in the fucking fics again?!” he said, wiping his mouth and running his hand down his shirt. “I thought the contract was over, Forty-two!”

“I did too, son. But America loves a good revival. It’s why they keep bringing back 90s sitcoms.”

“Yet nobody thinks about bringing back Xena. It’s fucking sexist, dude.”

Bill nodded. “I’ll leave you to secretly stuff yourself with highly fattening foods, son, but can you save a few of those Twinkies for Hill? She loves the sweet stuff.” He grinned. “Better yet, I’ll give her mine.”

“You have a secret stash of Twinkies too, Forty-two?”

“More like an everlasting Twinkie, Paulie. Except mine doesn’t taste sweet, but it’s cream filled!” he said, gyrating.


Bill closed the door and looked down. “Damn, I miss junk food.”

He continued giving the readers the tour, stopping in front of a huge door. “And this room is…our soundstage!” He led the readers inside the dark room, a huge green screen in front of them. “Where’s that switch?” he said, finding it and turning on the lights. “Now I know you’re wondering, ‘Forty-two, why do you need a soundstage?’ Well, I’m sure most of you have seen Billary’s Zoom chats from our beautiful, Chappaqua home, but what you didn’t know is—” He clicked the remote. “Our Chappaqua home is digitally constructed so that no one will know where we are!”

He furrowed his brow.

“That sentence could’ve been more succinct. I’m losing my touch.” He clicked the remote again, and the living room desk was suddenly on the screen. “As you can see, I added some personal touches for the viewer’s enjoyment. Two naked statues over there. A picture of our old dog Zeke there,” he said, pointing to everything. “Hill thought it’d be smart to have two offices, so we included mine too.” Bill clicked the remote again to show his private Chappaqua office on the screen. “As you can see, I made sure to put uplifting books on the shelf behind me. Erotic Nature; Guns, Germs, and Cum; and my personal favorite, Sex, which, according to Tumblr, you guys have noticed handily.” Grinning, he looked down. “This fandom is nothing if not observant.”

“Bill!” Hillary called.

“Be there in a minute, baby. I’m still giving them the tour!” He sneezed again. “Now I know you’re wondering, ‘Hey Forty-two, what do you think about your archnemesis slash best friend Joe Biden becoming president?’ That’s a good question, kids. I have to admit, when he got the nomination, I refused to leave the shed in protest. If it weren’t for Hillary throwing a pipe bomb through the window, I don’t think I would’ve ever found the strength.” He shuffled his foot along the floor, remembering. “But once I did, she sat me down and explained what happened.”


August 2020 – Clinton Cape - After Hillary Blew Up Bill’s Tropical Shed

“Drink some water, Bill.”

“I can’t!” he cried, arms crossed in front of him. “And according to old sayings, the more I cry, the less I’ll pee!”

Exasperated, Hillary snatched his chin.


“Drink it!”

“Okay!” he said, forcefully gulping down a berry-flavored Dasani.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re prone to dehydration.”

“I’m a camel, Hill!”

Hillary closed her eyes. “You see what I have to deal with, Nancy?”

On the side, Nancy Pelosi watched the scene, unaffected.

“You need to take your vitamins too, Bill.”

Bill’s eyes grew big. “But Paulie’s not—!”

“Paul just got back from Sweden this morning. And don’t make fun of his weight, Bill. It’s a source of insecurity for him.”

Paul waddled into the room, nervous. “Uh, hey, Forty-two.”

“Paulie, you’re fat as fuck!”

“Morbidly obese, they say,” Nancy whispered.

“Bill!” Hillary yelled.

“I can’t help it, baby! Did Gammelmormor decide to stuff him to the gills every fucking day?!”

“You know I have a glandular problem when I take overseas flights!”

“No human being has that many glands! Make sure he stays away from Joe, Hill. You know he’ll be trying to get a piece of Paulie’s ass as soon as he sees him.”

“Take it back, dude!” Paul yelled, grabbing Bill.

“I can’t!” Bill cried, struggling. “You’re fucking succulent! I bet you bleed chocolate milk!”

“I bleed glogg, Forty-two! Respect my culture!”

“Enough!” Hillary yelled. “I’ve invited Nancy over to help me break some important news to you, Bill.”


“Because she’s both a fashion icon and an assassin, at least according to Bannon.”

“So you want her to kill me?!”

“Only if you don’t behave,” Hillary said calmly. “Right, Nancy?”

Nancy giggled while eating a piece of chocolate.

Hillary took a deep breath and said, “We’ve cloned Joe.”

“But Hillary!”


Nancy shot a look at Bill, making him wet his pants.

Hillary smirked. “We’ve decided that he’s the best option for president now. With updates to technology, Joe’s clone will have his mannerisms and down-home charm but with my strategic brain and Nancy’s Congressional agenda. Joe II will choose all my cabinet picks, appoint all my judges, and will pick the Vice President of my choosing. With his desire to fulfill Nancy’s agenda, we’ll finally get America back on track through the clone.”

“But what’ll you do with the real Joe?!”

“Finally outta the shed, fucker?” Joe said, leaning against the wall. “I hear Hillary blew it up, but only after I tried to set it on fire!”


“My clone’s gonna be president, bitch! I’m gonna be invited to the Summit now, the President’s Cup, and uh, uh…all that other boring shit you guys do! Before you know it, you’ll be on your knees, thanking your lucky Playboys for Forty-Fucking-Six!”

“Dammit!” Bill yelled, grabbing Joe’s neck.

Choking, Joe glanced at Paul, and his eyes grew big. “Paulie,” he stammered, “when’d—you—get—hot—again?!”

“Stop lusting after my son!”

“Get—used—to—it—fucker! I’m—moving—in!”

Bill’s eyes grew big.

“We have to hide him somewhere, Bill.”

“But he wants to bang Paulie, Hillary! And you! He’ll cramp our tropical style, and then when will I be able to fuck you?!”

Hillary looked down, not wanting their sexcapades to be interrupted. “Fine, he’ll live in the bungalow.”


Bill shook his head, remembering the scene. “Don’t get me wrong, kids. I love Joe, but I also hate his guts with everything in me. Once Jill was cloned, she moved into the bungalow too, so at least Joe had someone to distract him from Paulie’s tits. By the time the debates rolled around, everyone got into a routine.”


September 2020 – The First Debate

Bill and Joe sat on the couch watching the first presidential debate.

“Here’s my five-alarm Moose Munch,” Paul said, waddling into the room holding a giant pan of popcorn. “Five seconds in, you’ll taste raclette, swiss chocolate, and my personal favorite, herring.”

“Fucking fish, Paulie?!”

“Calm down, fucker. It’s part of his culture.”

Thanks, Joe. At least someone’s acting like a Democrat.”

Joe nodded at Paul, staring at his chest.

“Culture or not, I don’t wanna taste fucking fish,” Bill said, tossing the kernels.

Suddenly pissed, Joe threw the sheet pan at the TV.

“My moose munch!” Paul cried.

“What the fuck’s he doing?!” Joe yelled, pointing at the clone. “Didn’t Hilton program him to kick Putin Jr’s ass?!”

“Hillary said something about removing all your natural instincts during the process,” Bill casually said. “Something about you lacking any semblance of judgement.”

“This is bullshit!” Joe yelled. “Joe Two looks fucking weak up there!” He furrowed his brow. “But oddly sympathetic. Hey uh, lemme see your credit card, fucker.”

Confused, Bill pulled out his wallet and handed Joe a credit card.

He grabbed the phone and dialed. “I don’t know what it is, but I have to donate the maximum to the poor bastard.”

“Hey!” Bill yelled as Joe raced from the room.


“My bill ended up being $46,046.46! I would’ve been mad, but Joe ordered some La Perla lingerie for Hillary that…” His eyes grew big. “Fucker!”

“Bill!” Hillary called.

“I’m almost done, baby! I just need to show them one more thing!”

“Hurry up!”

He looked down, grinning. “She can’t go long without the D anymore, kids. I may be retired, but Johnson works fulltime!”

Bill took the readers to the new shed but stood outside the door. “Hill had it rebuilt right after the inauguration. She even put the Presidential Seal on the door for an added touch.” He wiped away a tear. “She had Larry decorate the place, but I didn’t believe her until I saw his creation. Every inch of the walls is covered with high-definition pussy shots, each one nastier than the last. I think it’s his greatest work, you know, assuming it was the real Larry and not one of his clones.”

Bill opened the door to find Larry sitting before him. “Fucking Larry?!”

Larry handed Bill a Hustler magazine and a bunch of hard candies. He motioned Bill closer to him, and Bill leaned down to hear. “Hissss!” Larry hissed.

“Get the hell outta here, Larry!”

Larry rolled off into the sky.

“A true trailblazer,” Bill said, bowing his head.


Back in bed with Hillary, Bill grinned. “So there you have it, kids. Billary’s been fucking to their heart’s content on a private island, Paulie’s gained the weight back, and Joe’s clone is now president. Anything you wanna add, Hill?”


“Oh come on. There’s gotta be something.”

“There’s nothing,” she said, looking away.

“She’s shy,” he said, turning to the readers. “I wonder what I can do to open her up? I have the perfect idea.” He grinned and clapped twice to turn out the lights. “Until next time!” he yelled, descending under the covers.