White House senior adviser David Axelrod is sitting in his office, looking over some of the latest polls. The phone rings.
“David, it’s Michelle. I’m looking at the fourth, the eighth and the eleventh districts in Ohio. The races are tightening and we’ve got to get Barack in there. The demographics show a highly polarized electorate and if we can just get our base out we’re gonna be golden on Nov. 2. I want you to get on the phone with the precinct captains – tell McGill, Davidson, and Zarinski that they need to intensify their door-to-door. Got that?”
“Yes, Mrs. Obama.”
“We also have some new chances in Arizona 14 and Michigan 8. It’s no cakewalk but our candidates are starting to make their moves and you’ve got to get on the phone with Kaine over at DNC and have him shift resources there immediately. Got that? And get OFA’s ass in gear on this as well.”
“Yes, Mrs. Obama.”
Later, in the Oval Office, Axelrod is meeting with Obama. The president has some rock music from the 70’s playing gently in the background.
“Axe, take it easy.”
“But Mr. President, we’ve created a monster. Since we asked Michelle to get more involved on the political end, she’s jumped in like a ferocious political tiger. She knows the Chicago precinct map better than I do. But, you know, I’m not sure all her ideas on are target.
“I know, Axe, but what the Hell am I supposed to do? If I interfere she won’t let me go golfing.”
“Mr. President, I’m getting calls from our event organizers all over the country saying they are being told to start serving salads at rallies and remove all the fatty foods and desserts. We can’t get people to show up! I mean, if you’re not going to serve bratwursts in Wisconsin, you’re going to have candidates talking to empty rooms.
“She wants you and her to be introduced by a new song she had recorded by Beyonce, ‘We are the world, We are the Obamas.’ She’s having a TV spot filmed in Delaware about Christine O’Donnell that says, ‘You knew she was a witch. But did you know she is a bitch?’ Mr. President, she’s got to be stopped.”
Ring, ring ring
“Mr. President, looks like the red phone is ringing. The Russians?”
“No. It’s the Michelle line. Dammit. Hello? Yes sweetheart. Yes sweetheart. No – yes, sweetheart. Yes, I’ll tell Biden. Thank you. I love you too. Goodbye.”
“Oh for chrissakes. She wants to decorate my teleprompter with pink carnations. And she said Biden needs to start taking fish oil, that it will help him think more clearly.”
“I don’t mean to be disrespectful to the first lady, but we need to put her back into Martha Stewart mode.”
“I think this genie’s out of the bottle.”
Ring, ring ring.
“Hello? Yes granny M. Yes, I understand. OK, I know, I feel the same way. Goodbye.”
“Yeah, it’s my mother in law. She says she’s moving out. She said Michelle is forcing her to the collate polling data out of Missouri.”
Suddenly, Obama and Axelrod notice the Eddie Money tune playing in the background.
“I’ve got, two tickets to paradise! Won’t you, pack your bags, we’ll leave tonight? I’ve got . . . ”
Obama picks up the red phone.
“Michelle, it’s me. Remember I told you that you couldn’t go to the Ritz Carlton in Monaco? Look, I figured how to pay for it without hitting the taxpayers too hard, but you have to leave tonight because our Amex points are about to expire . . . “