I would like to announce my candidacy for president of the United States. I’m throwing my hat into the ring.
   Not that hat I hope.
   The fight is on and I’m stripped to the buff!
   Careful. You’ll lose the fundamentalist vote.
   So be it. The current state of affairs demands action.
   True. Yet, somehow, I suspect you’re hardly an alternative.
   I’ll have you know that despite efforts to the contrary [opening my empty wallet] I remain beholden to no corporate or intelligence agency interests.
   Beholding you now, I can see why that is. Where did you get that awful suit?
   This? Just something I threw on.
   It’s something you should just throw out. But more importantly, don’t you think it a little late to start campaigning? How will your grass roots propagate before the election? After all, it takes time to grow a constituency large enough to sell out to the higher bidders on K Street. Though to your credit, you seem to possess the manure necessary for their quick cultivation.
   Why, thank you. I aim to be some of the freshest dung around.
   What will be your campaign platform?
   First I’ll prove that I’m a man of the people by using the traditional soapbox. This one here was left to me by my uncle, Alexander Flatus Astor, long-running alderman of the 2nd ward at Grapes of Wrath Asylum for the Perpetually Dyspeptic. Once I’m flush with campaign donations, I’ll graduate to the standard dais.
   This outfit is already a soapbox. One which, I remind you, no one feels particularly close to. How do you plan to win hearts and minds?
   By the traditional methods of course­­­—false empathy, empty promises, propaganda, and the indiscriminate quotation of my political forbears during speeches and interviews
   Go on. I’ll be your sounding board.
   It was we...
   Nope. Stop. Step up on the box. Now, a little louder. Pro-o-oje-e-ect.
   IT WAS WE, THE PEOPLE; NOT WE, THE WHITE MALE CITIZENS; NOR YET WE, THE MALE CITIZENS; BUT WE, THE WHOLE PEOPLE, WHO FORMED THE UNION. MEN, THEIR RIGHTS AND NOTHING MORE: WOMEN, THEIR RIGHTS AND NOTHING LESS.
   Wait a minute. Are you using this as a ruse to pick up women?
   I BEG YOUR PARDON, SIR!
   I can understand entering politics for money, but companionship? You do know politics attracts the worst kind of sociopath? It’s hardly the place to seek an unhealthy romance, let alone a healthy one.
   [whispering] Shhhhhhhh. [toward the door] ARE YOU IMPLYING THAT MY POLITICAL MOTIVATIONS ARE IMPURE?!
   No. I’m stating it directly.
   Keep it down.
   What?
   I think someone heard us. [pointing] I think there’s someone listening at the door.
   What are you doing?
   [quietly moving toward the door] Defending my false integrity. I can’t let that kind of misapprehension leak to the press. Can you imagine the Post headline; “Astor Enters Presidential Race for Pussy!” My campaign will end before it starts. You remember what happened to Gary Hart. You know what this country is like. Especially the Evangelicals. It’s as if they don’t like women at all.
   They probably don’t read the Post either.
   [speaking toward the door] YOUR INSINUATIONS HAVE OFFENDED THE MEMORY OF MY NOBLE ANCESTORS!!!
   Have you been drinking?
   No. Come over here, by the door. ROGUE!! SUCH ASPERSIONS WILL BE VENGEANCED! Just play along.
   Have you lost your mind?
   IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS POLITICALLY EXPEDIENT, I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL! [A loud slap]
   You hit me!
   It’s just a glove.
   It’s full of change.
   Oh. Sorry. THERE IS PLENTY MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM YOU SCOUNDREL. SHALL WE SAY PISTOLS AT DAWN?!
   I can’t believe you hit me.
   It’s okay. I think they’re gone now. Thank you.
   No one cuffs me.
   Not even for something like a nice, cushy cabinet post?
   With a young secretary?
   If you like.