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SS MAN #1: Yes, sir. (exit SS MEN, dragging GREENSTEIN) (The PRESIDENT, composing himself and stacking his flash cards, gets up as though to leave. He turns his attention to the AIR FORCE OFFICER. He gets up and walks over to him.) MR. PRESIDENT: You there. What's your job, exactly? AIR FORCE OFFICER: Sir, my job is to carry the nuclear briefcase, sir. MR. PRESIDENT: The nuclear briefcase, huh? And is that all? AIR FORCE OFFICER: Yes, Mr. President. MR. PRESIDENT: I see. (pauses) I have to go to the bathroom. AIR FORCE OFFICER: Yes, Mr. President. (The PRESIDENT goes, opens a closet door, and walks in. He comes back out and goes into the bathroom. Another door is clearly visible inside the bathroom). (Enter VICE PRESIDENT DONALD CONLEY, an older man with white thinning hair and glasses, and the build and appearance of an NFL defensive coordinator; SECRETARY OF STATE LILLIAN ADMUNSON, a squat woman in a violet dress suit, with the face of Max Schrek; and CHIEF OF STAFF STEVEN GRAYBURN. The latter, the former governor of New Hampshire, is in his early fifties, trim, and has a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair. He is also wearing a neck brace and walking gingerly.) (ADMUNSON should be obviously a man dressed in women's clothing.) (All three sit down at a pair of sofas in front of the fireplace -- CONLEY and GRAYBURN on one side, ADMUNSON on the other. CONLEY is laughing and staring greedily at GRAYBURN.) CONLEY: (laughing) Steven. GRAYBURN: (not smiling) Don. CONLEY: What happened, you fall out of your tax bracket? GRAYBURN: (bitterly) No, I fell out of yours. CONLEY: You'd need more than a neck brace. GRAYBURN: That's not funny. CONLEY: Oh, trust me, it is. ADMUNSON: (in a deep voice) Steven, what happened?
GRAYBURN: It's nothing. Strained my neck. CONLEY: (erupting in laughter) Strained his neck! GRAYBURN: The weather was cold. I jerked my neck to the side suddenly, and... CONLEY: (interrupting) So get this. Our new Chief of Staff here decides Washington isn't good enough for him, and goes back to his home state of New Hampshire for the weekend... GRAYBURN: I was invited. I was the governor there, you remember. I have to keep up some ties with the people. CONLEY: Apparently, we weren't giving him enough face time around here, so he decides to go back home to be a big fish again for the weekend. GRAYBURN: I resent that. I really resent that. CONLEY: Anyway, so yesterday, he spending the afternoon with the local chapter of the local John Birch Society, of which -- correct me if I'm wrong -- you're a member, right, Steven? GRAYBURN: They're good people. Somebody has to speak out against big government. CONLEY: So it's Sunday afternoon and the Birchers are having a picnic. One of the activities at the picnic -- get this -- is an pie-eating contest. Apple pies. They're having a contest to see who's the biggest, apple-pie-eatingest American in all of lower New Hampshire. GRAYBURN: There's nothing wrong with apple pie. And it was all of New Hampshire, not just the lower part. CONLEY: So ol' Governor Grayburn here steps up for his big photo op during the contest. They put a big apple pie this tall (gestures with hands) in front of him. And he's sitting there in his suit and tie, at a table with a bunch of local RNC operatives dressed up in chamois shirts and work boots to look like lumberjacks. GRAYBURN: We never said they were lumberjacks. They just chose to dress that way. Those shirts are very comfortable.
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