“Well, we need to watch that show,” Deborah said. “It’s filling up the DVR.”

“Maybe that’s an indication we don’t actually like that show and should stop watching it,” Bob suggested.

“Yeah, but we’ve been with it for five seasons now.”

“Well… sometimes you just have to let it go.”

Someone started pounding on the door. Bob got off the sofa. “Who could it be at this hour?” He went to the front door and opened it to see President Obama. “Oh no.”

Obama looked panicked. “So how are you guys surviving the shutdown?”

“Like most Americans, we don’t really care,” Bob answered.

Obama nodded. “You’re trying to stay strong; I get it.” Obama pushed his way inside. He then noticed a framed picture hanging on the wall. “Is that the Grand Canyon?”

“Yes,” Bob said. “A couple years ago–”

Obama pulled the picture off the wall and threw it to the ground. “That’s a national park. You can’t have that up during a shutdown.”

Bob raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Obama started stomping the picture frame. “Only money for essentials during a shutdown, so no looking at the Grand Canyon.”

“We have kids sleeping upstairs!” Deborah shouted under her breath.

Obama nodded. “Yep. The shutdown is awful. You better pressure those Republicans to end it. I told them I’d negotiate if they first give me everything I want.”

“Do you even know what the word negotiate means?” Bob asked.

“If you’re so concerned about the shutdown,” Deborah said, “why don’t you just delay Obamacare since judging from the website you aren’t ready to implement it anyway.”

“We are ready!” Obama yelled. “The site has a few glitches, but that’s expected since website are kind of a new thing.”

“You need to face it: Your health care thing is a big failure,” Bob said, “and now you’re just lashing out and randomly trying to make people suffer during this shutdown because you can’t deal with that.”

Obama stared at Bob a long while. He then went over to a bookshelf and knocked it over, spilling the books everywhere. “Because of the shutdown your bookshelf fell over.”

A baby started crying upstairs. “Oh, that’s it!” Deborah shouted. She then grabbed a broom and started swatting at Obama. “Get out! Get out! Get out!”

“I won’t negotiate!” Obama yelled back. “I get what I want! I– stop hitting me!” Obama ran out of the house.

“I think there’s a law against hitting the president with a broom,” Bob told Deborah.

Deborah set the broom down. “If so, it’s a silly law.”