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Yellow Ruby Breeze
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"Hi, I'm Elmo!" proclaimed a cheery, familiar voice.
A gray, husky figured stepped onto that nostalgic set, glancing down briefly to find his view before looking at the camera and stating in a jarringly, unnaturally happy tone, "...and I'm Secretary of State Newt Gingrich."
The director, sitting in his chair behind the camera lowered his face into his palm. "Cut," he grumbled loud enough for everyone to hear.
The man in control of the shaggy gray Muppet lowered his arm down and looked over at the director, "I swear, I hit my mark this time!"
"You're doing fine, Kevin. You've been doing fine. The problem is with you, Mr. Gingrich. Could, I dunno, be a little more emotive?"
Newt Gingrich was about to open his mouth and spew out something much more hateful than what the citizens of Sesame Street were used to, but they were all saved by the ringing of a smart phone. Newt answered promptly.
"Hello?" He held up one finger toward the film crew and the director yelled "Take five people!" before grumbling and wandering off to the snack table.
"Yes, Mr. President. I'm at the shooting right now," he answered. He continued, "Pretty dismal. I can't believe we live in a age where we have to remind children to be happy and have fun. That and the director is starting to get on my nerves."
Newt would pause and listen to his phone, pacing around in small circles and idly looking about the aging set as he listen to him. He'd eventually reply, "You know I can't leave the states right now, even if it is the Leviathan conference, my wife's--" he forced himself to pause as the president spoke once more. He cleared his throat a little and stated, "I'm high profile too, you know. I'm sure some punk from the Huffington Post was following me around--"
Again, Newt Gingrich forced himself to pause. The anger was starting to swell inside of him, but he swallowed it. Even so, he couldn't help but to think to himself That could have been me in that fucking seat. That could have been bossing little piss-ant shits like you around! Of course, this wasn't what came out of his mouth, "Mr. President. I recommend that we should seen the Deputy to this private conference. She's low profile enough to keep the media off our backs, but she can get the job done. Do you want to call her or do you want to call her?"
Once he heard the President's answer, he grinned and sighed contently, "Thank you, Mr. President. If you need me for anything else, you have my number. Talk to you later."
He'd hang up the phone and turned to director holding a small tray of assorted cheeses and finger sandwiches. "This is what I was talking about, Newt! Natural, happy emotions!"
Mr. Grigrich retorted, "I mean this in the most polite manner I can muster right now: Go fuck yourself."
Continued. Special Thanks to a dear friend for giving me the idea for this scene!
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