Potus tilted his head away. "I'm fine," he said. "You should see the other guy. I nailed him, mano-a-mano with his own shoe."
"I saw it on the TV. I don't think you hit him," she said doubtfully.
"Tell her, Johnson," said Potus proudly.
Johnson shook his head.
The First Lady shoved Potus' shoulder. "You and your stories. Always trying to be a bigger man. Speaking of which, you need more potassium and fibre. I'm going to tell the doctor and the chef to get you more vitamins and minerals."
"Aw," complained Potus.
"After this we can go upstairs," said the First Lady. "I want to show you the drapes." The First Lady strode out of the clinic purposefully.
“Let me ask you something,” said Potus to Johnson. Potus sat on the crinkly paper with his legs dangling.
“OK,” said Johnson.
“Let me ask you a personal question,” Potus repeated.
“No problem, Sir,” answered Johnson.
“Once when I was young and single before I met the First Lady, I had an incident with a tornado. It was late spring and some college buddies and I stayed out late after finals. We went down the local DQ and were hanging out causing trouble. One of us had some dope and most of us had beers. I think it was Barnyard beer.
“One of my good friends had his girlfriend with him and we secretly thought he didn’t deserve her because she was too pretty for him. There had been reports of a storm coming in but none of us wanted to leave and the guy who had the fake ID had already bought a 24-pack of Barnyard or whatever it was. We were sitting around and talking when all of a sudden we see that the place is completely deserted.
“We didn’t think anything of it until the tornado sirens started. As you can imagine, we started running around like chickens without heads. None of us could drive because we were all pretty messed up. Anyway, we each scattered in different directions and I ended up behind the liquor store next to a trash bin. Not a trash bin, a dumpster. I looked around and the guy’s girlfriend was looking for him. I called her over to the trash bin just as a gust of wind almost knocked her down.
“She came over with me and we jumped inside the trash bin. It was filthy, but better than being out in the exposed elements. The rain and wind were fierce and it kept getting darker, like really, really dark. It was almost night at one point. The girl and I were holding onto each other for dear life. I kept thinking that I was holding her arm, but after a while I realised I was holding her tit meat. I thought it was her bicep, so I kept squeezing it to reassure her. But it was her tit.
“When the tornado came by about a mile east of where we were, the wind blew the so crazily that the dumpster lid closed and we were blown across the lot into a field. I heard a lot of screaming from the girl, and I grabbed her bicep even tighter. Then I realised I was the one screaming and she had passed out from the pain, probably.”
Johnson stood quietly for a second, then asked, “Sir, you said you were going to ask me a question?”
“Right,” said Potus. “The question is, I’m still pretty manly right? I’m a goddamned hero in that situation, right?”
Johnson stared at Potus through his dark glasses for a long time. Then he said, “That’s classified, Sir.”
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