Fun with Mittens: latest edition.

[MonteLukast]

This is for you, Vektor, especially... and also for everyone who's sick of Mitt hogging all the credit for the MA health plan (or is secretly glad that he's hogging the credit for a prettied-up stinker, as the case may turn out to be).

Completely fictional. But may have actually happened; you never know!


Disclaimer: Any similarity between the fictional version of the persons portrayed here and the actual persons is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is fictional (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual characters of said persons).



John frowned, drawing a line through the last passage he'd written, tsk-tsking his earlier lack-of-sleep-induced inability to tell between the subtleties in the concept of "single-payer plan", when the phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He reached over, knocking over a few pieces of paper with his elbow, and rolled his eyes.

"Hello, John!" said the voice on the other end, when he picked up the receiver. "How are you today?"

"Oh, hello, Mitt. I'm good; how about you?"

"Well..." said the governor, drawing the words out at length. John felt his chest tighten with certainty and irritation.
You're canceling again,he mentally said to the man on the other end of the phone. Aren't you?

"I'm afraid I won't be able to make our meeting yet again, John."

Yep. I thought so.
John took a deep breath. "No offense, Mitt, but you're rescheduled twice already."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's not for me, Mitt. It's for the Coalition For Affordable Health Insurance. They can't wait forever. And neither can our constituents."

"I know, but I'm in no shape to do it today, John. I've got cramps. I strained some muscles yesterday during my workout."

"Ah. Taking things to the next level?"

"Yes. I'm thinking about taking up capoeira. Apparently, I'm in worse shape than I thought."

"Hope you feel better soon."
So now I know who the kid was, who told everybody that the dog ate his homework.

John didn't want to sigh-- he was in no mood to show his annoyance that much-- but he let his jaw clamp briefly. "Will this Friday be all right?"

"Pardon?"

"Will this Friday, ten A.M., in the small conference room be good for you?"

"I think so."

"I mean, it won't conflict with Ann's or any of the kids' appointments, right?"

"Let me check my schedule... No, it won't. Friday at ten then."

"Good. We're talking health care after all, Mitt. Can't have a meeting at the expense of the families of the participants."

Then John felt that particular burning in his eyeballs. The one he always got when he got a certain gleam in his eye. Whenever a really devilish thought occurred to him.

"Hope to see you there this time, Mitt, if you please."

"Oh, you will, John, don't worry. And I do apologize for today."

"Quite all right. In the meantime, you just relax and take care of those menstrual cramps."

He only heard the shocked silence on the other end for a few seconds, before he hung up-- and felt a great load slide off his shoulders. He smiled with satisfaction.

THE END

[TayTay]

1. Hahahahahahaha!

Excellent story. I loved it.

You rock! Great way to start the weekend. And John would so say that.

[_dynamicdems]

2. That made my night! LOLOL! n/t