“PROTECC JOE!” Fetterlump bellowed as he crashed through the door to the Oval Office. He scooped Joe up before Finnegan could react and squeezed him in a bearhug; one of his ancient ribs snapped wetly.

“Put him down, John!” Finnegan ordered.

“JOE DANGER! REEEEEEPUBRICANS!” Fetterlump growled, loosening his grip somewhat.

“Yes, John. Republicans bad. But Joe safe.” Finnegan said calmly, attempting to cast soothing word on the brain-damaged giant.

Fetterlump let Joe slither from his arms into his office chair. The lumpen creature burst into tears.

“NO IMPEECH JOE!” Fetterlump blubbered.

“We won’t let them, John,” Finnegan said, patting his arm until he returned to his usual gormless confusion.

“Oh, fuck!” Karine said, wobbling into the room, full of Bud Light and sexual tension. “What’s Lenny doing in here?”

“Karine!” Hunter said, bounding from behind a tactical ficus.

 

 

“Not now, Dad!” Finnegan hissed.

“It’s always Hunter Time, babydoll,” he said breezily, patting her rump in passing as he moved in on Karine.

“I’m not talking about him in the press briefing,” Karine said, pointing at the crying Fetterlump. “I already have too much to do today.”

“We all trust you to do your best, Karine,” Finnegan said, glaring at her father grinding his hips as he dance-walked to Karine.

“We all love you, Karine,” Hunter said.

“My chest hurts,” Joe said faintly. “I think he bro-bro-broke something.”

“Please stop crying, Lenny,” Finnegan said to him. “I think we have some Popsicles in the breakroom. Do you want a Popsicle?”

“Can John have red?” John asked in a small voice.

“You can have any color you like,” Finnegan said. “You can even have two.”

Fetterlump giggled and rapidly clapped his hands. He skipped out of the room, making the floor and walls shake ominously as Finnegan followed him.

“Karine,” Hunter said, his erection obvious in his jock strap, “I heard you are single.”

“I love you, my beautiful boy,” Joe said. He began coughing and a little blood came up.

“I love you too, Daddy,” Hunter said, beaming a smile at him. “I love you ten-percent more everyday.”

“Still gold-star, Hunter,” Karine said, half-lidded eyes falling further.

“Try a little meat for once, my darling pescatarian,” he said.

Karine held up her hand as he got closer. “Don’t make me call HR.”

“I fucked the entire HR department; half of them gave up the ass,” Hunter said, his voice pitched seductively.

He was close enough for Karine to smell him now, sweat and crack smoke, a deep, almost buried musk that sent a tingle to her nethers.

“Karine, my sweet Black Pudding Pop,” Hunter said, touching her face right under her cheekbone and trailing a finger down to a nipple that he pressed.

Karine vomited on him, forcefully and at length.