[Rick Grimes and Bill Clinton are hiding in the bushes outside the fence surrounding the Gosnell Clinic. Zombies are hobbling around inside the courtyard between the gate and the entrance to the clinic]
RICK: Well, after watching them for most of the day, I’m mainly satisfied. They do seem to be zombies and not Occupy Wall Street protesters.
BILL: So, you ready to go in then?
RICK: Are you sure about this?
BILL: Would I lie to you? We need to get in there. The government spent $25 million fortifying that clinic against the threat of violent Tea Party protestors that never materialized. It’s a fortress. If we can clear that place out, we will be safe. There are plenty of beds. We can bring the whole group back here.
RICK: The question is, how do we get in there? It’s overrun. I wish we had a Hummer.
BILL: Leave that to me. [Pointing and standing up] That chubby one in the blue dress looks a lot like Monica, only prettier. [wolf whistling] Hey, baby, perhaps I can have someone else buy you a drink. Did you know I play the sax? Care for a cigar?
RICK: Not that kind of Hummer, you idiot. Get back down before they see you.
BILL: Come on. Look at her. Cute as a button. And stacked. She had me at hellooaaarrghhhhhh. Just give me five minutes.
RICK: No.
BILL: 30 seconds.
RICK: Get your head in the game.
BILL: I’d rather have my hea…
RICK: Don’t say it. Don’t even think it.
BILL: Be a pal. Can’t you feel my pain? No one needs to know. I can deny it. Watch this. [wagging his finger at RICK] I did not have sexual relations with that zombie. Pretty convincing, huh?
RICK: Believe me, you do not want that kind of hummer.
BILL: You really suck as a wingman, you know that. You underestimate my charm. If Hillary hasn’t killed me yet, no woman will, zombie or otherwise.
RICK: This is not open to discussion.
BILL: That depends upon what the definition of ‘is’ is.
RICK: That’s enough of your s#$@. Sit your a@@ back down here and listen to me. Maybe you haven’t noticed, but this isn’t a democracy anymore. And when it was, I voted against you twice. I don’t like you and I sure don’t trust you. If you want to keep screwing around and satisfy your sick urges, fine. Go ahead. Be my guest. After you bleed out, I’ll shoot you in the head and walk away.
BILL: Don’t talk to me like that, boy. I left Arkansas to get away from ignorant rednecks like you. I’m the President of the United States, and you will show me respect.
RICK: Ex-President of the ex-United States. And unless you are right about this clinic, you are worthless to me. Worthless to all of us. You say this place is a fortress? I don’t see it. Looks vulnerable, and it was clearly overrun.
BILL: You have to trust me. It doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it is the best place for us.
RICK: Wait a minute. Quiet. Do you hear that?
BILL: Hear what?
[There is a growl and a pear shaped, androgenous figure in a pant suit and glasses lunges at Bill. Reflexively, Bill raises his pistol and shoots the figure in the head. The figure falls to the ground and is motionless.]
RICK: Bill, are you alright? You gonna be alright? You just killed your wife. You just killed the Hillary Clinton zombie.
BILL (quizzically): She was a zombie?
MYSTERIOUS VOICE: In her own words, what difference, at this point, does it make? She has served her purpose. She has led me to you.
[Looming over them is a black woman with a samurai sword on her back. To her left and her right, on leashes made of chains, are John Kerry and Nancy Pelosi zombies, both of them armless and muzzled.]
To be continued, maybe, if I feel like it.
[Not cross posted at Nuking Politics since it may violate Keln’s decency and good taste policy]