“Go ahead.  Cap will laugh.”
“I really doubt it, sir.”

Geiger had mishandled a dirty tricks campaign in Connecticut at the last mid-terms, and the foolish lackeys who’d been apprehended were now sitting in court blaming the White House and the Republican National Committee. Sifting through the phone records, prosecutors had traced the strategy back to Geiger’s office, or at least one he used occasionally. Fortunately for the President, the media wasn’t giving the story much play.

“Let me discuss it with Cap first, okay? He’s on line one, but we’ve got a bad connection.” The President laughed to himself. “I’ve got people clamoring for money to build dams, levees, to protect ports and nucular sites. Some knuckleheads even want to raise the minimum wage.” He sighed as if all the administration’s budgetary restrictions were not the result of his profligate tax cuts. “I am, however, looking for a fourth this afternoon to play golf, Mr. Secretary? You haven’t got a bit of free time for a dog leg, have you?” he asked with a chuckle.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Todd replied. “Those days are long past. I do, however, have a meeting this afternoon in Dallas with an NEA gathering …”
“Sombitch. That’s too bad.”
“… which reminds me,” and Coover turned toward the  nattily dressed man to his right, “I’d like to look over that

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