Back | Next
Contents

Interlude

decorative image


“So, the little Russian bitch is going to address both houses of Congress, is she?” President Woodrow Wilson folded the newspaper he held and stared over it at “Colonel” House.

“I’m sure she means to beg for troops to save her sister. She got Roosevelt to set it up. She’s probably warming his bed along with his son’s. Hard to blame the old man, she’s a pretty enough girl.” House shrugged and swirled the whiskey in his lowball glass.

“Can’t fuck her way into an army, though, can she? Though one might almost admire her dedication if she tried!” The president smiled at his own joke, and House obligingly guffawed in appreciation.

“Still,” Wilson went on. “I wonder if we should aid the chit. Bolshevism has an annoying tendency to encourage the lower classes to get uppity. And we can’t have that.”

“You think we should send men to Russia?”

“I think we should see what effect her speech—or her sexual gymnastics—has on Congress, and then decide. There are many pieces in play on this particular board, my friend. It’s important to keep them all in view.”





Back | Next
Framed