Later that night in the Bachmann bedroom:
That was so great! I got to spend some real time with the President. He talked to me, and I told him what a faithful follower I would be. You saw me on television, didn't you Marcus?
Is that all you have to say, Marcus? I wore that dress you picked out for me.
I'm glad you had a good time.
Marcus, are you mad at me?
No, I'm not mad at you, Michele. Now go to sleep.
I can't sleep. I am so arou-- excited that I couldn't possibly sleep.
Then read a book. I'll put the pillow over my head.
Oh pooh! I don't want to read!
Then get yourself a glass of milk.
Come on Marcus. I'm feeling kinda hot.
I'm sorry to hear that Michele. Go to sleep.
Ok. Party pooper.
[there is a pause of a minute or so]
Sure you're not mad at me?
Then my feet are cold. Can I put them on your back for a minute?
Oh for crying out loud, Michele. A moment ago you said you were feeling hot.
Well, I was, but it's feeling kinda frosty in here now. Tell me what's wrong.
Did you have to kiss him--on the lips no less?
Marcus, I think you're jealous! The President means nothing to me.
Really? You came to bed more steamed up than you have in years.
Why Marcus Bachmann! Now I'm getting mad at you.
Go ahead. But I'm not the one carrying on like a common trollop in front of a national audience.
Common trollop? You take that back, mister!
No, I won't.
I'm sorry if I hurt you Marcus. I didn't mean to.
We'll talk about it tomorrow.
[a longer pause]
You didn't slip him any tongue, did you?
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