Friday, January 15, 2016

"I can't feel anything. Am I shitting myself right now?"


"Hillary, I hate to see you like this..."

"More Vodka, Huma: more Vodka.

"You haven't left your bed for days, not even to use the bathroom. You're just getting more and more drunk, wallowing in sheets soaked in vomit and urine..."

"Huma, I need it. I need the Vodka bad."

"Hillary, I haven't even mentioned the diarrhea in your hair. I don't even know how that could happen."

"VODKA, HUMA! For the Love of God, get me more VODKA!"

"Hillary, Remember what the doctors said."

"Yeah, yeah: if i keep drinking like this and skipping my medications I'll have another stroke and die. Maybe that's the best."

"Hillary! Don't say such a thing!"

"I can't stand to lose the nomination again. And to Bernie Sanders? First a black man, and now a Jew? Everything is in ruins..."

"You just need to sober up and you'll be back to the Ruthless  Hillary I have come to Love."

"Love? Maybe if I die America will finally Love me then! They'll finally love Hillary, and cry and place flowers in street memorials like the little people do."

"Let's take a shower, Hillary: you'll feel better. Just you and me, naked, and the spray of hot water: it'll be just like old times."

"Once all the People love me I'll come back from the Dead and THEN they'll make me President! They would have to!"

"Honey, once you die, you don't come back."

"Tell that to Richard Nixon."

"What?"

"Nixon visits me, you know. We talk, and he Understands me."

"Oh, Hillary..."

"And Vince Foster. Sometimes he visits me, too, when I get the headaches. Oh Huma, the Pain! The Pain!"

"I'll get the Vodka, Hillary. I'll get it for you..."

"Huma?"

"Yes?"

"I can't feel anything. Am I shitting myself right now?"

"Yes you are, Hillary."

"OK.... Huma?"

"Yes, Hillary?"

"When I die, Burn Everything."


I am Laslo.



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