[night blankets the nation's capital. a quartet sit in front of a raging fire. though raucous moments ago, the hungry hungry hippos are now silent.]
Lyndon Johnson: So get this. This little New England shit asks me to be his vice president. I would push kids like him over railings in the Senate office building. “Lyna-don,” he says in that accent you’d swear is fake if you didn’t know better. “Ahh-merica needs us to work ta-gether for the good a the country.” This pisser, whose daddy bought him everything he thought he earned, had the rocks to ask me to do him a favor.
Millard Fillmore: Why did you take the job?
Johnson: Access to an unlimited supply of A&W Root Beer.
Fillmore: For real?
Johnson: No, you idiot. He needed Southern votes. So those photographers of his had excellent telephoto lenses. I thought nobody could see me and the pig.
Harry Truman: Gosh, that’s awful.
Johnson: Don’t knock it until you try it.
Gerald Ford: Lemme ask you guys something. Did your Chief ever come into the room naked?
