Jeff:
I've spoken to the governor, New Hampshire has agreed to hold a special election for the seat before Christmas. But...
Ben:
Sounds like a big goddamn 'but'!
Jeff:
Oh, yeah. This is a giant, juicy, muscular Serena Williams 'butt'; Sherman's widow is about to announce that she is running for the seat.
Kent:
Ah, I have recurring nightmares about running against widows.
Ben:
We have a list of vetted names here.
Jeff:
Oh, great. Why don't you send them over to me, I'm running low on toilet paper.
Kent:
Excuse me?
Jeff:
You don't give me names, Beardo, I give you names. So take your list, roll it up real tiny, attach it to the leg of a carrier pigeon, and have it fly up Tubby's dick!
Ben:
So who's your choice?
Jeff:
You know, I'm grooming my nephew Ezra.
Kent:
Heard a lot of great things about Ezra!
Jeff:
Brilliant, handsome, wife's a solid eight, after kids will probably still be a seven. Mark my words: he will be president one day. But, Ezra is currently serving in Afghanistan. Plus, for anyone to beat the widow you're gonna have to fight dirty, and I don't shit where I eat.
Ben:
Well, me neither. Not since my wife caught me eating yoghurt on the crapper.
Jeff:
We need a real piece of cannon fodder here. Some spectacular dumbass who's willing to charge this machine gun nest, sacrifice his name and reputation and then fuck off so that Ezra can slide right in.
Ben:
So, do you have a list of spectacular dumbasses?
Jeff:
[enigmatically] There's only one name on it.
