Off To New Hampshire

A cloud, somewhere east of Iowa

Huckabee: Well, we did it.

God: No, you did it. I just helped you.

Both laugh. They clink brandy snifters and take a large sip.

Huckabee: (sigh)

God: What?

Huckabee: Aw, it's... nothing.

God: Oh, come on... I know when you're feeling glum. What gives.

Huckabee: It's just that, is this fair?

God: Obama used Oprah, didn't he?

Huckabee: I know and...

God: Giuliani is using Satan...

Huckabee: Well sure but, I mean, you're God. You know?

God: Tell me something I don't know, Huck.

Huckabee: It just feels weird. What if maybe in New Hampshire I just... go it alone?

God: What?!

Huckabee: It's not that I don't appreciate...

God: (sniffling) Was it something I did?

Huckabee: Oh, please don't cry again. I'm... I'm sorry.

God: Sorry? SORRY?! Sorry doesn't (sniff, gulp) change the fact that I've worked my butt off for you! I've been slaving in those hot caucuses and for what? For what?!? To be unappreciated by you? Well, Mr. Guy, let me tell you something. I won't be treated like this!

Huckabee: Oh, God, I'm sorry.

God: (dabbing eyes) I want you to want me to help you, you know?

Huckabee: I know, I... hey. Okay. You can go to New Hampshire with me.

God: Really?

Huckabee: Really.

They hug. Meanwhile, a shadowy figure peeks up behind them. It is Michael Bloomberg. He dips his head down again, and scribbles in a notebook.

To be continued...