It reads like a bad Jackie Collins screenplay remake of Valley of The Dolls, staring Hillary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren who are the bitchy mean girls at a Sorority.
Hillary Clinton greets Elizabeth Warren in the cream-and-coral sunroom of her home on Embassy Row.
“Elizabeth, welcome,” Clinton says, smiling stiffly. “I was worried that you were lost since it was taking you so-o-o-o long to finally get here.”
Warren smiles primly, sipping her Pellegrino. “Speaking of credit, you have to give me some for this: In my last book, I left out the stuff I had in my previous one about you being an unprincipled sellout. By 2014, when that one came out, it looked like you were going to go the distance. My purity sometimes gives way to expediency.
“You know all the Democrats want me on the ticket to add some sizzle since the crowds you draw wouldn’t even fill this couch. I know you are afraid I will overshadow you and I will. But I can help you reel in all the young women who find you more shifty than nifty. And the Bernie Bros dig me.”
“Thanks, Pocahontas,” Hillary replies, looking steely. “I can do some things on my own. I did manage to secure a spot in the Ivy League without pretending to be Native American. I hope you noticed that I’ve decorated my house in all the colors of the wind.”
Hillary gives that big laugh that indicates she is not amused. “No need to go on the warpath,” she says in her best Cersei manner. “Let’s bury the hatchet — in The Donald.”
Warren exhales and sits back down: “You’re right. The sisterhood has to be united in supporting the first woman leading a major ticket against the worst misogynist leading a major ticket. Can you believe Trump said hebroke the glass ceiling by promoting women in construction? The only glass he knows is the mirror. And the thrice-married huckster had the nerve to tell evangelicals here Friday that marriage and family are the building blocks for success. That dog gets my blood boiling!