The Cat's Pajamas
Page 15
The official put the phone down and slowly turned to his secretary.
“Do you know that idiot Hamfritt?”
She nodded.
“Do you know what that damn fool has done?”
“I can hardly wait.”
“He went off a few hours ago to an Indian reservation in North Dakota with twelve senators. Said he was investigating affairs in the territory.”
The secretary waited.
“He then engaged in a series of roulettes with the chief of the largest tribe, Chief Iron Cloud. They put up New York City and lost that.”
The secretary leaned forward.
“Then they started gambling with states—and lost! By two in the morning, drinking with the Indian chief, they managed to lose the entire United States of America.”
“Holy shit,” said the secretary.
“I might kill myself, but first, who’s gonna call the White House and tell the president about this?”
“Not me,” said the secretary.
THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES ran across the airport tarmac.
“Mr. President!” an attaché cried. “You’re not dressed!”
The president glanced down at the pajamas under his overcoat.
“I’ll change on the plane. Where the hell are we going?”
The attaché turned to the pilot. “Where the hell are we going?”
The pilot glanced at a transcript and said, “The Pocahontas Big Red Casino, Ojibway, North Dakota.”
“Where in hell is that?”
“On the Canadian border,” said the attaché. “It’s safe. Only the caribou vote there. Last year, a landslide.”
“Is the airport large enough for Air Force One?” said the president.
“Barely.”
“What time is it?”
“Three a.m.”
“My God, the things we do to run a country,” said the president.
On board, the president sat while drinks were poured and said, “Give me the details.”
“Well, here’s how it is, Mr. President. There was a meeting of Democratic senators in North Dakota. Thirteen of them went to the Pocahontas Big Red Casino for a night of whoopee.”
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“You can say that again,” said the president of the United States.