“We must do it and do it soon!” Hillary slammed her fist on the table, causing pencils, pens, phones and IT gnomes to jump.

“We must build a working Joe Biden!” She stood, straightened her pants suit, and glared at the best minds the remnants of her 2016 campaign could offer. Wet brains and suck-ups, she thought. Deformed Bryn Mawr graduates and Columbia School of Journalism student loan slaves.

“GO!” she roared and laughed to herself as they scattered.

She caught Huma’s eyes and begged for affirmation. Huma grimaced and went back to the book she was reading.

1.0

“What’s with the blurry?” Hilary barked

“Ms. Clinton, this is Alejandro, can you hear me?”

“Ms. Clinton?” Hillary asked archly.

“Secretary of State Clinton…” Alejandro began.

“President Clinton,” Hillary said.

“Madam President,” Alejandro tried again.

“Real,” Hillary said. “Real President Hillary Clinton.”

“Hillary,” Huma rumbled.

“Get on with it!” Hillary yelled. “Why is it blurry?”

“The program is still compiling, Madam Real President.”

“I can’t make out his face at all,” Hillary said.

1.1

“I like the slogan,” Hillary said. “It will do well in Florida and the other semi-literate states. But the face isn’t quite there yet.”

“One moment please,” Alejandro said.

1.3

“There he is, there’s the Joe that’s touched so many,” Hillary said.

“He smelled my hair just a few months ago,” Huma said, shivering.

“He hasn’t smelled my hair since I was First Lady,” Hillary said wistfully. “I had Stephanopoulos bite him right on his wandering hand.”

“Oh, Hillary!” Huma said pointing at the page she had been reading.

“Now, let’s try out some facial expressions and some different backgrounds. Make him smile,” Hillary said.

2.0

“Oh, my Dark Gods!” Hillary screamed. “What the fuck is that? Smile, I said. Smile! Not drunk mug shot!”

2.1

“Gah! That’s worse somehow! No! No!”

2.2

“That’s only half-a-smile!” Hillary said. “He looks like he’s had a massive stroke! He can’t look like that until after the election!”

2.3

“Finally!” Hillary said. “Open, warm, inviting. Perfect. Just like my smile.”

With a deep creaking sound, the corners of Hillary’s mouth moved slowly upward, forcing her cheek implants to rise to the surface, and, grunting, she opened her lips to show her teeth.

“Show me stern!” she said after letting her face slide back into place. “I want ‘Steady Leader of the Free World.'”

3.0

“That’s a pirate!” Hillary said. “But save that one. We might need it.”

3.1

“Close. Serious, that’s good, but where’s the fire! The passion?”

3.2

“No! You’ve gone back to pirate! Or maybe Christopher Columbus.”

“Hold on, Ms. Real Secretary President,” Alejandro muttered.

Hillary wandered over to where Huma was sitting. She reached out to tuck Huma’s hair behind her ear and closed her hand when her lover pulled away.

“It’s just a novel, Huma,” Hillary said. “None of it is real.”

“It certainly sounds real,” Huma spat. “The car? Your addiction to creampies? It makes me sick.”

“Then stop reading it.”

Huma glowered at her and went back to the book.

3.3

“Stern, forthright, upstanding, in no way rapey. It’s perfect,” Hillary said. “On more though, this time with more fire!”

3.4

“Nope. Nope. Nope. He looks like a howler monkey,” Hillary said.

“Mussolini,” Huma said.

“Joe wishes he could pull off Mussolini,” Hillary said. She went to kiss Huma and she pulled away again.

“It’s just a stupid book!” Hillary screeched.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Huma asked quietly. “Are you ashamed to let people know we are together?”

“What?” Hillary asked, drawing back.

“Bill is a monster,” Huma said, jabbing a finger into her preview copy of Rodham. “Why won’t you leave him?”

“I need him for now,” Hillary said.

Huma threw the book down and ran from the room.

4.0