Potus, Confronting Congress Part II

"Johnson, remove this House Speaker before I do harm to him."
After the Speaker of the House left, Potus sat down while the Chief of Staff looked on.  The Chief of Staff asked, "Sir, how did it go with the Speaker?  I assume it didn't go well."
"No," sighed Potus.  "That wasn't what I hoped for.  We didn't get any funding and I'm sure he is aware of our plans now."
"Which plans, Sir?"
"The plans to implement a new time standard, Federal American Time.  Federal offices in New York would open at 9am F. A. T.  Federal offices in Oregon would open at 12pm F. A. T.  If someone on the east coast wants to call someone on the West coast, there wouldn't be any math.  You just check your watch."  Potus acted out someone trying to arrange a meeting.  "'What time is it?  Oh, I see, it's 4pm.  I guess that crazy nutjob in California is just now finishing his avocado and alfalfa spout sandwhich on whole grain.  I'll let him digest his greens and leave a turd stone in the toilet before we call him for a meeting.'"
The Chief of Staff nodded weakly.  He said, "Sir, we've scheduled the Majority leader from the Senate to meet with you as well.  They wouldn't want you to meet one and not the other."
"Oh really?" asked Potus.  "I'm weary.  Send him in.  I'll fillibuster this guy too."
"Certainly Sir," said the Chief of Staff retreating.
Potus stood magnanimously as the Senate Marjority leader was led in.  They shook hands and Potus motioned for his guest to sit.
"Would you like some tea," offered Potus.  "They say you old folks like tea."
"No, thank  you, son," said the Senate leader.
"Well, first of let me say that it is a great honour to meet with you and that your colleague in the House has been most unkind and rude to me, and that I am uncomfortable to know of his existence on this planet."
The Senate majority leader nodded, stroking his white beard.
Potus continued, "He was personally offensive toward you and even made disparaging remarks about your beard."
The Senate leader stopped stroking his beard and sat upright.
Potus raised his hand.  "No, no, I know.  I know.  I had to stand up for you.  Saying that a man's beard is bull semen is like calling him a liar to his face."
The Senate Majority leader spoke up.  "Sir, as you know, the Senate is a mature and stable body.  We don't allow just anyone to sit in a Senate seat, these are earned and passed down through the generations.  The House, however, is an unruly lot filled with children and charlatans of every stripe."
Potus nodded in agreement.  "You couldn't have said it better.  I personally think your beard is quite distinguished and makes you look younger than your eighty years."
The Senate leader smiled and relaxed again, stroking his beard contentedly.
Potus said, "I personally think of myself as a great joiner; one who is willing to reach across the aisle, across arbitrary boundaries and grasp the hard working hand of my fellow every person doing good work."
The Senate Majority leader continued nodding and stroking his beard.
Potus continued, "I wish that were all that was to say about the House Speaker.  He also made some horrible claims about your family and their interactions with animal byproducts, which I won't repeat for fear of upsetting you."
The Senate leader leaned forward intently again.  "Which family members?"
Potus waved his hand.  "No, no, it won't do to repeat it.  I won't repeat the horrible things he said about the disgusting acts.  I won't repeat them.  I won't."
The Sentate leader insisted.  "No, I must know, please, I beg of you, I must know to defend myself and the reputation of those around me."
Potus seemed to give in a little.  "Are you sure you can handle it?  I don't like to repeat bad things about good people and I certainly don't like to tell stories that are passed on in third-party hearsay."
"I insist."
"Woof," said Potus, exhaling.  "He toldl some unbelievable stories I don't even like to admit to understanding.  He said that your son-in-law reportedly was caught dealilng in black-market cheeses."
The Senate Marjority leader sat perfectly still.  "Continue," he said.
"Well, I told him I don't believev him."  Potus said.  "But he seemed so credible.  He says your son-in-law was mixing Gorgonzola cheese with, well, I'm ashamed.  I can't say it."
"Go on," the Senate leader prodded.
"Well, again, let me say I don't believe a word of it." said Potus.  "I just can't believe that someone would accuse a fine upstanding citize of this.  He said your son-in-law was mixing Gorgonzola cheese with Camembert cheese."
"That's an outrage," exclaimed the Senate Majority leader.  "My son-in-law is a good-for-nothing ne'er-do-well who stole my daughter when they eloped together.  However, his dealings and contacts in the Government cheese sector have been outrageous.  I've tried to protect him for my daughter's sake but now the secret is out.  I must do something about it.  I can no longer turn a blind eye to his shameful dealings."
Potus raised his hand.  "Don't worry.  Your son-in-law's secret is safe with me.  I'll help you protect the honour of your family and your daughter.  Together we can get this whole problem dealt with in a most discreet way.  Allow me to let you in our little plan."
The Senate leader leaned forward in his seat, nearly touching the grand table in front of Potus.
Potus paused conspiratorially then spoke quietly.  "We can introduce and pass a measure to get rid of all the timezones in America.  We'll call it American Federal Standard Time, or whatever you choose, and then we'll let the word on the street know that it was actually the Speaker of the House who introduced it."
The Senate leader nodded thoughfully.  "I see.  We'll blame him for bringing such a bill to the floor and he'll be discredited for life.  What about Alaska and Hawaii?  How would they function with a single timezone system?"
Potus nodded.  "Exactly, you've hit the nail on the head."
The Senate leader stroked his beard again.  "Except we'll call it the Federal American Time instead.  The House folks are Statists, not Federalists.  They would never call it the 'American Federal' time; that would be a blatant attempt to try to blame us for introducing the bill.  No one will ever suspect that we are actually the ones introducing the bill to blame it on them instead."
"Ha, ha," cried Potus.  "You are a brilliant strategist and an uncanny wit if I do say so myself."
"You do, indeed say so yourself," said the Senate Majority leader good naturedly.
"Well, sir," said Potus.  "It's been a pleasure, and I hope we'll meet again soon."
"Yes, yes," muttered the Senate leader.
Potus stood and offered his hand.  The Senate Marjority leader remained seated.
"Well?" asked Potus.
"Hmmm.  Yes, it's just that..."
"Yes?" asked Potus.
"I'm afraid I've had a problem with my colostemy bag..." said the Senate Majority leader.
"Oh, God, no," exlaimed Potus, recoiling.  He yelled out, "Chief of Staff.  Johnson, come in here!"

Potus, Confronting Congress Part I

May 22
Meanwhile in the Oval Office, Potus meets with the House Speaker.
Potus says, "Thanks for coming to see me.  As you know, I desperately hate your guts.  As much as it pains me to say so, I wish you would drop dead in a vat of acid."
"That's uncomfortable," noted the Speaker of the House.  "I came here to discuss things civily, especially since we're from the same political party."
"Oh," said Potus.  "I didn't realise that.  How nice to meet you."
"Likewise.  Now as you know, Sir, you've ignored our requests to come talk to you for the better part of a year.  I think that is a grave disservice to the country and to the balance of powers in this great nation."
"Bullshit," coughed Potus into his hand.
"Sir,"
"Sir," mocked Potus.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do that," mocked Potus.
"I think you're giving short shrift to this process..."
"Shrift?  What's a shrift and why is it short?"
"A shrift?  It's, well, um, it's a unit of measure.  Like inches or feet."
"I doubt it," said Potus.
"In any case, we'd like to discuss matters of importance for the nation regarding policy and budgets."
"I agree," said Potus.  "As I said in my acceptance speech, I'll sign two bills:  the budget required by the Constitution and one other of your choosing."
"Well, then, let's talk about the budget.  What do you have in mind?"
"Take schools, for example.  The federal government has no jurisdiction in education, so let's get rid of it.  Refund the education budget back to the people and let them spend it as they see fit.  People without children can subsidise those with children only by choice.  People with children can short change their kids as they see fit.  Everyone wins."
"But Sir," objected the Speaker of the House.  "The schools will be in shambles if we do that."
"What's the difference?" asked Potus.  "We can give them coupons or whatever for their schools."
"You mean vouchers?"
"Vouchers, coupons, whatever.  It's a metaphor for money."
"Isn't that communism?"
"Well, sure," admitted Potus.  "Communism is frightening to the average common every American.  Communism represents order, planning, and organisation.  That scares the beejesus out of good hardworking folks.  And with good reason, because otherwise everyone has to wear the same shoes and the same clothes and sing Heil Hitler, Deutchland Uber Alles!"
"Sir..." objected the House Speaker
"Don't Sir me.  I'm just getting started," Potus snapped.  "And what about the time changes in the spring and winter?  Nobody likes that.  Just leave a little earlier to go to work.  You don't have to change the clocks.  What's the progress on that?"
"Sir, daylight savings is proven to save energy and it's good for the environment.  Daylight savings saves lives and money."
"Bullshit," coughed Potus into his hand again.
"It's not bullshit."
"It is too."
"Is not."
"Is too bullshit."
"No it's not."
"Is is is, bullshit, bullshit, bullshit!"
"Is not isn't isn't isn't."
"It is," said Potus.    "It should be called Daylight Spending.  It screws up my Sundays when I should be in church praying.  I always wake up, wondering if it's really 9 o'clock or 10 o'clock.  Who can live with that?  If I'm in the bedroom and then go to the kitchen, it's suddenly an hour earlier.  How is that possible?  There's always one clock you can't remember to set and three months later you're driving in the car and you say, 'What the hell?  I haven't even left home yet?  Or is my clock wrong?  I don't understand.'  It's nonsense and it has to end."
"Fine, it won't get any support.  But let's say that we could bring that bill forward.  What would you be willing to offer as a rider?"
"A rider?" asked Potus.
"You know, some pork.  Some grease."  The Speaker of the House smiled mischeviously.
"A metaphor for money?"
"Exactly."
"No way.  It's my way or the highway.  Getting rid of Daylight Spending is its own reward."
"I don't follow," frowned the House Speaker.
"Never mind," said Potus.  "Do it or don't, nobody cares.  We spent a lot of time trying to come up with really good ways to say 'go fuck yourself' to Congress and I wanted to run those by you."
"Um..."
"Sit back relax.  Here we go." said Potus, picking up a piece of paper and putting on his reading glasses.  "Let's see.  'Go have sex with yourself', that's pretty basic.  Not very imaginative.  'Go autonomously into coitus' I like that, but I don't know what it means.  'Go masturbate selfishly' you see because it's go fuck yourself by yourself."
"Sir," objected the House Speaker.
"No, hold on.  They're getting better.  We tested all of these and the audiences in the focus group loved them.  'Go auto fellatio upon your phallus', that's for the men, obviously.  'Henceforth conjugate thyself', a little to fancy schmancy for me.  'Forever auto copulate', again, dunno what that means.  I'm sure it's bad, though."
"Um..."
Potus waved, annoyed.  "'With thine ownself reproduce', kind of Shakespeareian don't you think?    'Put your own fork in your yoghurt,' that's questionable, because no one puts a fork in yoghurt.  'Spunk up your own junk', whatever."
"Do we really have to continue?"
Potus put down the paper and his glasses.  "You see that we're really trying to say 'Screw off' as nicely and in as Christian a way as possible.  That's just a sign of respect."
"I don't think so, Sir, with all due respect.  That's just flattering someone by calling their beard bull semen."
"I've never heard that before, and I've used a lot of phrases," noted Potus.  "Don't get upset or we'll get into a name calling contest and that won't do a short squat duck phlemn turd bucket like you any good."
"It's you who aren't any good, you filthy farm animal lover.  You've clearly enjoyed the company of live stock a few times more than allowed by law in your state."
"Oh no you don't, you pig genital manipulator.  You don't dare refer to the First Lady that way."
"You don't like it do you, Sir.  The shoe has gone on the other foot now and it is uncomfortable because it's a left shoe on a right foot."
"No, sir, I do not like it one bit.  Maybe if you didn't grant cunnilingus to rodent Capybara in the middle of the night, you'd be able to speak better."
"I've never even been to South America," screamed the Speaker of the House.  "And another thing, you sick bastard.  How do you even know what a Capybara is?  There's no way someone could have figured that out without some insider knowledge."  He rose from his seat.
Potus stood up as well behind his desk.  "Ha, I don't need any insider knowledge.  I'm the man on the inside.  I'm an office.  I have executive powers of observation.  I'm able to discern what the people of America need me to see.  I'm chosen above all others to lead."
Johnson came in with the Chief of Staff.  Potus motioned him over.  "Johnson, remove this House Speaker before I do harm to him."

Potus, Layoffs Part II

"Make sure you don't fire the chef because we need to eat lunch."
Potus looked at the Secretary of State.  "Madam Secretary," he said.  You've drooled on yourself again."  She looked down at her shoulder and tried to brush at it.  "Never mind that now," Potus continued.  "How are you going to help trim our budget in your department?"
The Secretary of State slipped her hand absently into the lap of the Chief of Staff who paled.  "I've decide I can cut back on my staff and travel allowances.  I've been planning on visiting the diplomatic offices at the Adironbacks and Camp David."
"Camp David?" asked Potus.  "Isn't that where Number 43 was from?"
The Chief of Staff lept from his chair with a yelp, pushing away the Madam Secretary's hand from his knee.
The Secretary of State answered, "No, I think he was from New York; what with the whole 9/11 thing."  She turned to the Chief of Staff and patted his chair.  "Sit down you poor thing.  I won't bite."  She made her most inviting sneer face.
The Chief of Staff stood behind his chair.  "I'll stand.  Continue."
Potus became impatient.  "Madam Secretary, cutting travel cost is a fine measure.  We need some sort of reduction of staff as well.  I'm sacrificing a lot of my staff budget who are working on very important tasks.  How do you propose to cut your staffing levels?"
The Madam Secretary stared blankly.  Potus waved his hands in the air to try to gain her attention.
"Oh, God, she's going to blow," said Potus, alarmed.
"She's stroked out!" shrieked the Chief of Staff.
Suddenly the Secretary of State moved her head.  "Nonsense, boys," she purred.  "I was just taking a nap.  Where were we?"
Potus put his hands down.  "Layoffs?" he prompted.
"Ah yes, layoffs.  My favourite topic.  When I was a young lady working under Number 40, we once had to..."
Potus raised his hands to stop her.  "Ok, reduce staff by 60%.  Got it.  Someone write that down.  What time is is?"
Everyone checked their watches and their phones.
"12:45," said one.
"12:40," said another in quick succession.
"1:30," said a third down the table.
"Close enough," said Potus.  "Time for lunch!"
As they filed out, the room was empty except for the Secretary of State sitting alone.  Her eyelids drooped precariously and a thin rope of drool hung down from the corner of her mouth, connecting to the wet stop on her blouse.
Meanwhile, upstairs in the Presidential Bedroom, Potus was getting into his silk pyjamas.  He looked over at the pillows exposed by the drawn-down bedspread.  He grabbed one and padded thoughtfully out to the sitting room.  He nodded to Johnson and a younger agent guarding the door.
Johnson raised an inquisitive eyebrow.  "Sir, will there be any incidents tonight?"
Potus furrowed his brow.  "Incidents?"
"You know," hinted Johnson.  "Problems with the missus?"
Potus smiled, suddenly understanding.  "Ah, you mean unpleasantries in the boudoir.  No, there shall be no such activities tonight."  He paused.  "But I have been bad today," he muttered.
"Sir?" asked Johnson.
"Nothing," Potus said.  He made a gesture with the opened chocoate mint and took a bite.  "Where's the staff person that left this?" he asked.  "I thought we had, you know.  You know at the layoffs meeting today?" asked Potus.
Johnson answered.  "Well, sir, we had a snag with one of the, uh, the credentials for some staff.  They were marked as non-revoke."
"Non revoke?" wondered Potus.  "What the hell's that supposed to mean?  When I say fire people, we need to get them fired."  Here Johnson got a strange look on his face and tried to shake his head discretely.  Potus continued, "We need to remove the riff-raff and chiff-chaff.  Cut the fat and the muscle.  Chop to the bone!"  Johnson made chopping motions at his neck as subtly as he could.
"Merry Christmas, motherfucker!" shouted Shaniqua, appearing behind Potus.
"Ah, Shaniqua," said Potus, whirling around, nearly dropping his half-eaten morsel of chocolate.  "How pleasant to see you again, I was just saying how wonderful it is that you survived the layoffs during this difficult time."  Potus pretended to be incredibly interested in his chocolate wrapper.
"Oh no you didn't Mr. Potus Presidential Whosit," railed Shaniqua.  "We had a deal about my employment and your station in the office."  Using her incredibly long fingernaill, Shaniqua drew a big long vertical zig zag down the height of the space between them.  "You don't fuck with me and I won't be fucking with you.  But you done and tried to fuck with me didn't you?"
"No?" asked Potus as his voice cracked.
"That's right.  That's right.  You can have your chocolate, but you can't have none of this," Shaniqua exclaimed, turning three quarters profile and displaying all that not available to Potus.
"Good night, Mrs. Shaniqua," Potus stammered, and turned on his heel to leave.
"You better run away, you coward white boy," Shaniqua exclaimed after him.  "Ain't nobody gonna fire me from this place!"

Potus, Layoffs Part I

April 15
Meanwhile, in the executive conference room, Potus was having his staff meeting.  The Cheif of Staff was massaging his glasses again with his handkerchief.
"Sir, the Congress has voted to, unfortunately, halt allocations for the executive budget.  This is in retailiation for the veto blockade you've called on their bills."
Potus was annoyed.  "Did you speak to the Vice President?"
"Yes Sir," said Chief of Staff
"What did he say?" asked Potus.
"He said that they have a point and they should be upset that we haven't passed any of their bills.  They've been able to get two passed by veto override.  One of them authorises pay increases for members of Congress and the other is the spending block on your budget."
"Fucking traitor," he cursed his second in command.  "Assholes," Potus muttered at his Congressional enemies.  "I'll show them," he announced.  "Listen everybody."  Everyone listened closely.  "Today we are under assault.  We are beset on each side by the balance of powers.  This office has never felt more attacked at any time in the history of the office of the President."  Several heads nodded in agreement.  "As of today, we shall declare a formal war on what has been a friendly rejoinder or two.  We shall draw a line in the sand and say that this far, and no further, may the sloths of legislation pass."  More heads nodded fervently.
"As of today, I am going to be performing massivie cut-backs in staffing, hours and pay."  Most heads stopped nodding in agreement.  "Today we are going to batten the hatches and till the soil for tomorrow's victory.  Times will be tough.  You will be required to work for less than usual wages.  But we are in this fight together and we will not bow to the pressure of the moneychangers."
"Hallelujah!" exclaimed the Secretary of State, fainting onto the Chief of Staff's lap.    He had narrowly escaped getting his glasses crushed by putting them on before the Secretary of State was felled.
"Sir," said the Chief of Staff.  "What about all the support staff, the press secreatary and all of those people?"
"They can either be with me or against me," said Potus.  From now on, most people work for free.  We won't be making payroll soon.  They're shutting us down.  Some people will stay on, others will be fired.  Most will be laid off.  There will be more people available to stand in line at the DMV and the post office."
The Chief of Staff squirmed in his seat, trying to wake up the Secretary of State.
The Secretary of Defence spoke up.  "Sir, my staff are vital to our continued operations.  We've already cut as many staff as we possibly could.  I will need to have as much man power as possible to continue the national interests."
"Quite right," said Potus.  "The military is exempt.  The Congress jackals will never cut funding for the war effort.  Tell them we've heard some announcements about airplanes over the Atlantic.  Mention someplace scary."
"There are recent reports of possible attacks on airplanes originating from South Tajikistan."
"Good idea," Potus agreed, "but make it more believable.  Don't you have any other 'Stans you can use?"
"No Sir," stammered the Department of Defence.  "I'm actually telling the truth.  There really are reports..."
"Ok, fine, very convincing," said Potus.  "Just use some place else that actually exists, like China or Japan.  Nobody is going to believe a fake attack from some place named after a fake Turkey country."
"Fine," said the Department of Defence.
"You there," called Potus indicating the Department of Homeland Security head.  "Sleepyhead.  Wake up!"
Secretary of State jolted up in her seat, knocking the Chief of Staff in the chin.  "What?" she exlaimed.
"Not you, old hag, Homeland Security!"
"Yes, Sir!" snapped the Homeland Security chief suddenly awake and reading his notes.  "We're well ahead of schedule to increase body scans and intrusive pat-downs.  Nearly four billion paris of shoes have been inspected in the most successful security detail of all time," he said.
"Bullshit," said Potus.  "Taking off shoes is bullshit.  What is your department doing about cutbacks?"
"Cutbacks, Sir?"
"Yes, reductions, layoffs, forced retirement, no more internal office email.  Things like that."
"Well, Sir, this isn't a good time.  We've just recently given pay hikes to everyone and the unions are upset that we did not give them the 25% raises they expected.  We also recently purchased the automated intrusion prevention scanners to be used at all the regional ariports in the country.  The security threat is very grave and cutbacks could threaten our entire way of life."
"I like the way you think," said Potus.  "We'll tell them the theat indicators are all over the place and we're upgrading from yellow to orange any time soon."
"Sir," said the Homeland Security chief, "we're at green right now."
Potus grimaced.  "Well, make it blue or yellow or whatever, right now.  Next week bump it up again.  There's a serious threat to national safety from...  where?" he asked the Department of Defence.
"Mongolia, Sir," replied Department of Defence, checking his notes.
"Mongolia!  Mongolians are attacking our way of life.  The very sky that we breathe and fly is not safe.  We must have funding to meet the threat!"
Potus pointed to the Chief of Staff.  "Are you writing this down?  Or are you a Mongoloid among us, ready to attack like a sleeper cell?"
"No Sir, never, I would never..."
Potus waved at his protest.  "Just make sure you document all these threats and tell the Vice President to do his job over there in the House of Representatives.  Make sure they keep these safety issues first and foremost in mind."
"Meanwhile," Potus said, smirking and rubbing his hands together gleefully.  "It's time for some cutbacks here in the White House.  I don't think we need that many maids and manservants do you?"
"Um, ah, well, uh, that is, Sir," stammered the Chief of Staff.
"That stingy maid with those wonderful chocolates that are supposed to be on the pillow has denied me for the last time.  What do you think about that?" Potus asked the empty air in front of him.
"Well, ah, um, yes, see, well, the er, incident if you recall..." said the Chief of Staff.
"Good, you'll take care of it," Potus said.  "Make sure you don't fire the chef because we need to eat lunch."

Potus OpenMic, part VI

"What was that?" Potus wondered.  "Dinghy or a raft?  I guess a raft."
The Chief of Staff walked over next to Potus and whispered in his ear.  The Chief's clipboard shielded their faces, but Potus was well mic'ed so the conversation was broadcast in clear stage whispers.
"What's that?" asked the closer, louder whisper.
"I think he said 'liberals eat my ass.'" said the other fainter whisper.
"That makes no sense.  'Fibbers steal a gas?'"
"No, Sir, 'liberals.'"
"Why would liberals steal gas?"
"No," said the fainter whisper voice.  "'Eat my ass.'"
"I will not..." said Potus, his voice becoming quite loud.
"No, no no, shh shh..." hushed the Chief of Staff retreating behind light, shielding himself with his clipboard.
"Sheesh," said Potus.  "That is some pretty weak-ass shit with the stupid boats question."
The director waved his hand in a frantic neck cutting motion to the board operator.
"What have we here?" continued Potus.  "Illinois, you're on the Potus live network."
"Mr. President," said an affable woman from the display monitor.  "What are you going to do to address the income gap between men and women in the workforce?"
Potus smiled and cracked his knuckles outward, smiling like a pleased cat.  "Finally, a serious topic for discussion.  I hate to break it to you lady, but we can't do anything about that.  You see, if we tried to make laws that forced companies to pay equal wages, they'll just do the same thing the Americans with Disabilities Act did for the unabled.  Unchallenged.  Challenged.  Whatever.  You get the point.  If companies are forced to hire more women or pay them the same as men, they'll actually hire less women because they can now hire men for an artificially lower price.  And if we sue them out of existence for not having enough women then there won't be any jobs for anyone.  That is great news for the communists and the undisabled challengers or whatever, but not for the common everyperson.  The same common everyperson that I'm talking to now."
Still pleased with himself, Potus read the next city name, "Citizens in Roanoke, what say you?"
A young man with an obvious twang said, "Who's your favourite baseball player and why?"
"Ah, a discerning young man with a fondness of America's pastime.  I appreciate the artistry, the physicality of the ball dance.  The white man's game, well, besides golf of course.  I'd say that for his honesty and integrity in the game, I like Pete Rose.  Or maybe because of his athleticism, Mark McGwire.  Either of those guys.  Maybe Barry Bonds.  Any of them."
Potus reached for his glass of water and found none.  "That's it for tonight," he said.  "Let's say good night and let the Congress people have their say in the rebuttal section.  Good night and God bless."
Potus sat for a long while to let the director cue the Potus graphics and signal the end.  Finally receiving the signal, he stood and put his hands behind his hips, stretching his back.  "Oof," he said, gripping the edge of his desk and bending forward.  The distinct sound of a deep-note kettle whistle could be heard.  "Aah," cried Potus, stamping his feet.  He gripped the edge of the desk more tightly and let another lengthy one rip.  The Chief of Staff who had approached waved his clipboard to fan his face with a grimace.
"Still rolling," called a technician from somewhere behind the lights.
"With sound?" asked another.
"Negative," the first answered.  "But I think it's obvious."
"Cut the feed, cut the feed," cried the director.
"Excellent job," exclaimed the Chief of Staff kneeling to get to face level with Potus.
"Yes, yes," said Potus talking to the floor.  "We have given the common everyperson what they want.  An honest assessment of the state of affairs of the nation."
"I think we should stand now," said the Staff Chief.
"In a minute," growled Potus.
The First Lady arrived and rushed to her husband's side, massaging his lower back.  "How's my Potus-poo," she called, then grunted with effort on one vertebrate.
Potus cried out in pain but raised himself erect, rubbing back.
"Much better," he said, hobbling out supported by the First Lady.