“Wake up, wake up. You have to leave before anybody sees you.”
“Please! It's three o'clock in the morning, Bill.”
“You have to go now. Do you hear me? Right now.”
“Bill, it's Hillary, your wife.”
“Oh, sorry, Hillary dear … darling. Did I wake you?”
“No, Bill, you didn't wake me. I've been up all night, worrying about the future. What are we going to do after we have to leave the White House? You won't have a job anymore. We'll be broke.”
“So you can get a job, what's the big deal? You've had jobs before. And you can stop spending so much money on those damned pants suits. That'll help. I saw your last credit card bill.”
“I am not going to get a job in some office, Bill, and I am not going to start shopping in Filene's basement. You have to get serious about this.”
“Damn it, Hillary. Can't this wait until the morning. Anyway, we can always go on welfare. Just kidding … I cut back on that, didn't I? Pretty funny …”
“Get serious, Bill. We have to find a way to make some money. Some real money, not that nickel-and-dime pension you'll be getting that won't even pay your Frederick's of Hollywood bill. Don't you understand that once we're out of government, once we're not pulling any more strings, our so-called dear friends will disappear and no more little gifts on the side?”
“Well, if you don't want a real job, Hill, why don't you run for something? You could be Senator from somewhere.”
“I could do that. I could find some hillbilly state with a half dead Senator … but wait, I have an even better idea. Why don't you become an elder statesman and travel the world promoting I don't know, world peace or women's rights or something, any feel-good subject? You'll make speeches, people will applaud, you'll get lots of good press, and who knows, maybe you'll even meet a few blondes. Just keep it discreet.”
“How are we going to make any money with that? First class plane tickets and five star hotels cost a lot, and so do good speechwriters, and good lingerie.”
“No, Bill, start thinking with your brain instead of … This is what we'll do, we'll set up a foundation. People will donate tons of money, and they'll pay you tons of money to speak. You've always been a great speaker, Bill. Your silver tongue and my golden brain have gotten us where we are today, remember?”
“I'm a whole lot more than a snake oil salesman, Hillary. We're in the White House now, remember? I had something to do with that.”
“You had something to do with a lot of things I won't mention, Bill. Imagine you and I the heads of some giant multi-national foundation, collecting millions in donations from every billionaire in the world, oil money, internet money, Hollywood money, sports money, Wall Street money, drug money, they'll all be lining up to fork over big time.”
“Why? Why would anybody give us money? We'll be out of the game. We can't to do that quid-pro-quo thing anymore, at least not after January.”
“You won't be able to do that quid-pro-quo thing, Bill, because you will be officially retired and devoting yourself to the betterment of mankind, but I will be able to it. After the Senate, I can do anything. Cabinet positions, I can be on a million corporate boards, I can even be President. We can move back in here after just a few years in an apartment. Hell, Bill, let's be frank here. If you can be President, anybody can be President. Even me, especially me. I mean, admit it, Bill, who's been the real President all this time? Sure, you're the smooth talker and you've got that million-dollar smile, but who has been making all the big difficult decisions here? Who?”
“Okay, so how will this work? I give the same speech again and again, and every time I do it I get a big fat check made out to our little foundation? But what do we get out of it? The foundation would have to give all the money away to charities. I need checks made out to me, to us.”
“That's not how it would work. The foundation would pay you a very generous salary. It would also pay me a very generous salary. Also our daughter, what's-her-name. Hell, we could even pay our cat a salary. And after all the expenses, you know, travel, fancy hotels, meals and all that, there won't be a whole lot of money left over for the charities. Just enough for legal purposes, but mostly it would go to us, and we would just go on doing the quid-pro-quo thing. Except that instead of doing it ourselves, we would just pick up the phone and ask our friends to do it for us. Unless, of course, I get into the Senate or the Cabinet or become President. Then we would cut them out of the loop. More left over for us.”
“Hill, I don't know. What you're saying doesn't sound one hundred percent legal, you know, according to the law of the land, which I am supposedly sworn to uphold.”
“Bill, listen to me. Listen carefully. We're lawyers. We know lots of other lawyers. We know people who make the law of the land. We can make anything we decide to do two hundred percent legal if we want to.”
“But you can't keep something like this secret, Hillary. The foundation would have to file a million financial reports and somebody would find out. Those reporters will be sniffing around looking for something to hang us with, and the Republicans. I don't even want to think about the Republicans.”
“Bill, I have a secret to tell you. Listen carefully. Read my lips. There is no vast right-wing conspiracy. I made it all up.”
“You mean …?”
“No one will ever find out, Bill. Trust me.”

Don't tell anyone or I'll be forced to denounce myself again but I am a charter member of the Vast Right Wing Conspiracy. (As you may know, there's a left wing conspiracy but it's only half vast)