In a hastily called news conference, America’s funnest couple announced several bold new steps to replenish campaign coffers. Beginning almost immediately, the Clintons will star in their own reality TV show. Producers refuse to say what the show will be called, though several possibilities have been leaked to the media, among them, Why Does She Stay With Him, What Will He Do Next, It Depends Upon What the Meaning of the Word “Is” Is, and Where Did You Get That Beret?
“Americans have been entertained for free for several years now by the ups and downs in Bill and Hillary’s marriage,” said spokeswoman Lisa Caputo. “The writers’ strike may be over, but the networks need material right now, and Bill and Hillary are ready to jump right in. We’ve already got plenty of great footage, and TV viewers don’t need to be filled in on the back-story.
Television critic Myron Fritz thinks the show will be a sure-fire hit. “It’s a no-brainer,” said Fritz, who is famous for wearing an old-fashioned TV antenna on his head. “It will be a big moneymaker for them, and it will produce a huge amount of sympathy among female voters, especially when Hillary has to sit there while Bill bores their dinner guests with the history of hydro-electric projects in post-war Arkansas, or the post-operative effects of quadruple bypass surgery. The average American doesn’t know what a bore Bill is, and what a fun-loving party girl Hillary is.”
Mr. Fritz is convinced the Clintons reality show will tilt the remaining Democratic primaries in her direction. “I’ve seen some outtakes, and you ought to see how Hillary sticks it to him when he chews with his mouth open or when he tries to pick up the chubby gal at the KFC take-out window.”
On another fund-raising front, Mrs. Clinton announced that she is replacing the now sadly geriatric Jane Fonda in an upcoming production of The Vagina Monologues. (Where did you go, Barbarella?) Ms. Fonda, as everyone knows, was dumped from the play after letting slip on the Today show what one commentator called the “mother of all vulgarisms.” (Host Meredith Vieira had to be revived with smelling salts.)
Mrs. Clinton, in what another commentator described as a shameless attempt to woo women voters from Mr. Obama, told reporters that she would substitute va-jay-jay for the notorious C-word.
“I don’t care if Chaucer used the quaint anatomical term whenever he could, or if that smutty country lad William Shakespeare took advantage of every opportunity to make sniggling schoolboy puns. Nor am I impressed by reports that Mitt Romney can’t go through a day without saying the C-word. I prefer the proper and technically correct term used both on the Senate floor and in grown-up adult conversation, which is va-jay-jay.”
Mrs. Clinton refused to speculate on reports that she was considering doing a tasteful nude calendar like the one Helen Mirren did in Calendar Girls. “I know they didn’t show any naughty parts, and even though I’m not some country girl, when I’m alone, I like to lounge around au naturel, but when you’re dealing with foreign leaders like Ahmadinejad, Hugo Chavez, and especially that new French guy, you don’t want to have borderline photos, however tasteful, lying around.”
The biggest moneymaker for the Clintons may be a series of commercials that are already in the can. Levitra has reportedly paid the devoted couple several million dollars to hawk the product on TV. One commercial is a variation of the one where an unclad and incipiently amorous couple somehow find themselves reclining in matching tubs on the top of a mountain, surrounded by wildflowers and serenaded by songbirds as they watch the sun go down and wait for the man’s pa-wee-wee to come up.
Mr. Clinton denies using the performance-enhancing drug, but observers say his perpetually flushed face, a known side-effect, is a dead-giveaway.
“People are too hard on Bill,” said one close associate. “When he gets red in the face, he’s not mad, he’s just madly in love.”
Also, say observers, Mr. Clinton’s use of the potency medication would explain what Mrs. Clinton is so gleefully pointing at when she takes the stage at all her campaign rallies.
D.P. Sorensen writes satire for City Weekly.