“We’re you invited?” Kamala asked Joe, her nasal whine soaring to painful heights.
“Invited to what?” Joe asked, looking up from the piece of pizza he was attempting to maneuver into his mouth.
“Barry’s birthday,” she said.
“It’s Barry’s birthday?” he asked.
Three young women lurched into the Oval Office, breathing heavily. “Ma’am,” they said in a shaky chorus.
“It’s about time!” Kamala snapped.
“How do you walk that fast in heels?” Seresto asked, holding her side.
“Does that one have cancer?” Joe asked, pointing with his slice of pizza at Asteroid. “I-I-I-I-I can’t have one of those in here. I can’t catch cancer. I’m the President.”
“Cancer’s not communicable,” Kaylieburrow said, typing rapidly on her phone.
“Quiet!” Kamala said.
Joe took a bite of pizza and chewed noisily.
“She just has a short haircut,” Kamala said to Joe.
“Well, I don’t like it,” he said, a half-chewed piece of crust falling out of his mouth. “She looks like a boy I once rassled with. He had a big ole…” Joe looked up at the ceiling and tried to wrinkle his Botox-frozen forehead.
“Did you get an invitation or not? Chuck fucking Todd said we weren’t invited.”
“It was huge…” Joe mused to himself. “What’s it called?”
“Face?” Asteroid suggested.
“Chest?” Seresto guessed.
“Butt?” Kylieburrow ventured and giggled to herself.
“You know,” Joe said. He looked toward them and said, “It’s that thing. C’mon. What’s the word?”
“Erection?” Kamala asked. “Is it the word ‘erection?’”
“No, no,” Joe said, waving her away.
“Are we going to President Obama’s birthday party or not?” Kaylieburrow whined.
“I’m the President, young lady,” Joe said, standing suddenly. “Take your cancer-riddled friend and leave.”
“I just have short hair,” Asteroid said, self-consciously covering her head with a hand.
“Have they cut your diseased tits off yet?” Joe asked, advancing on her, his hands clicking like arthritic crabs. “Let me feel ‘em.”
“Run!” Kamala ordered Asteroid.
“I have breasts!” she cried and scurried out of the room.
“You can squeeze mine!” Kaylieburrowed offered, stepping forward.
“There will be no Cuomoing in this office!” Kamala thundered and stepped between Joe and the interns.
“It-it-it-it was purely medical,” Joe said petulantly. “My wife’s a doctor, you know.”
“I see we just can’t take you to Barry’s birthday,” Kamala said.
“Why are there tampons all over the bathroom floor?” Finnegan asked, stepping out of the bathroom. She saw Kamala and stood up straight. “Madam Vice President,” she muttered.
Kamala turned to her and smirked.
“ERECTION!’ Joe shouted. “That’s it. The fella had a huge erection!”