INT. OBAMA BEDROOM – LATE NIGHT
BARACK , just back from a speech, is undressing. He is about to toss his socks on the floor when he notices MICHELLE, already in bed, raising her eyebrows. He stops, carefully puts his socks in the hamper.
(leafing through Vogue, very annoyed)
I told them to shoot me on my left side.
(getting into bed)
Let’s try to forget it, honey. We’re under a
lot of stress.
He puts his arm around her but she’s in a bad mood and unresponsive.
Did you see the Gallup tracking?
(pushing him away, one track mind)
It’s been the same for two weeks. You’ve got to do something!
Democrats are supposed to be up by twenty in summer.
Barack sits up, obviously disturbed. She’s right.
( looking tentatively at Michelle)
Well… what about…?
No, not The Witch! I told you a thousand times. I can’t live
with her or that horn dog in Blair House!
He shakes his head, flummoxed.
(gets an idea)
But he said all those horrible things about me. And you always hated
the hair plugs.
(gestures to magazine)
He’s not running for the cover of Vogue.
And he’s been around for centuries. What about “hope” and “change”?
You still believe that bullshit?
The kids at the Daily Kos are gonna hate it.
All the better!
You are a wise woman.
(wraps his arms around her)
Now I know why I married you.
They disappear under the covers.