The scene:
Backstage at an Obama rally, present day. Senator Barack Obama, walking back to his limo, runs into President William Jefferson Clinton in the hall.
Bill Clinton (offering a "high-five"): Barack! Wassup, my nigga!
Barack Obama (holds hands clasped together in front of him): Bill! Hey -- uh. That's, uh. That's really...not cool.
Bill: Man, why you gotta be like that, Negro?
Barack (shakes head): Bill -- stop it.
Bill: Jigga, why you frontin'? You know I'm the First Black President!
Barack (frowns): Well, uh...Toni took that back, I heard.
Bill: That bitch just endorsed tha Hilla, yo!
Barack: I believe that was Maya Angelou, actually.
Bill (swats hand dismissively): Whatever. They all the same, G. Oh, shit! Here's Hilla-dog now! Hilla! My bitch!
Hillary Clinton: Oh, Bill. (Shakes head, smiles.) I'm so sorry about that, Barack. He's irrepressible! He's been listening to the rap mixes Chelsea made for the campaign. And Def Comedy Jam. He loves it!
Bill: Word!
Barack: I see.
Bill: I gotta connect to my peeps, son!
Barack: Don't call me "son", Bill. It's, uh...It's really not OK.
Bill: Shiiiiiiiiit. You bringing me down, dog.
Hillary: ANYway! What I was trying to say is that Bill, he's just trying out his "jive" on you.
Barack: ...
Hillary: So, well, Barack...I just think you should know something. This thing has been going on for, well, forever! hahahahahaha! (cackles) it seems. Ya know? But I gotta say -- it's over. I wanted you to hear it from me first.
Barack (incredulous): You're ending the campaign?
Hillary: No -- I'm ending yours. You're just not electable. You see, you're just...too...
Bill: (cough) BLACK! (cough)
Hillary: Well, I was gonna say "elitist", but Bill's right: you're too black. Regular, hard-working people -- white people, ya know? -- they just don't buy it, the whole "I'm an educated, strong black man" thing, OK? White people like ME! A white woman! Like them! White! Hard-working, no-nonsense, and white!
Bill: Niggaz just can't get no respect.
Barack: Stop that, Bill. I'm very serious.
Hillary: So you see, Barack, we have a plan: you concede the nomination to me now, and then in the general Bill wins back the Blacks! Because they like Bill! And now he can speak their language! And between all the good, honest, hard-working white people voting for me, as well as the Hispanics (or Latinos or Beaners or whatever they want me to call 'em), and then we got all the Blacks voting for my Bill over here, basically --
Bill: Yo, I got the hook-up! Third term, byatch!
Hillary: -- we've got it all planned. We have at least 50% of the vote and change. Mark's figured it out, done all the polling. It's a done deal. You can take that to the bank.
Barack: But, Hillary -- I'm winning. I'm going to be President. I beat McCain on demographics, on message, and on, frankly, leadership. There's no reason -- at all -- for me to concede this at any conceivable point.
Bill: Don't make us do this, dog. We love you.
Barack: I don't understand.
Hillary: You see...Chelsea's been videotaping you 24 hours a day. She caught you doing some questionable things in the restroom the other day.
Barack: I'm -- I'm -- I'm speechless, to be completely honest. I had assumed the rumors about you people were, you know, a little of an exaggeration. But Governor Richardson was right. You're both insane.
Bill (singing): "Insane in the mebrane / Insane in the brain!" Hah! I love that song. I can even play it on the saxophone! Makes me want to inhale, know'm'sayn? (winks)
Hillary: She taped you taking a number 2, and we know that -- and we got this on tape you understand -- we have proof that you didn't wash your hands.
Bill: The pooper, dog! That's nasty. Oh, snap!
Barack: If this is even true about the tape -- and I have no reason to believe it is, though I have trouble doubting it, frankly -- if that is even true...I always wash. I was probably just -- in the toilet stall, I mean -- having some time alone. Thinking, regaining my focus. Sometimes, these days, given the schedule, it's the only place I can do that. Perhaps you understand.
Hillary: Chelsea says she smelled you make a poop. She says it stunk to high heaven.
Bill: Nasty, yo! Damn!
Barack: Everyone knows I'm stinky. Michelle talks about it all the time. I think it's even in my books. There's no secret there. But I have been consistent, and anyone who knows me knows that I am scrupulous about hand hygiene. I mean, I got young kids. I wash my hands, like, 100 times a day.
Bill: I remember those days, man. Cooties! Whooooo-ey!
Hillary: Well, politics is a tough business Barack, and, no matter how much I respect you and think that someday, someday a long, long time from now, you could make a good President, I gotta tell you it doesn't look good. The media, the Republicans, they're tough on Democrats, they'll throw all sorts of stuff at you, and I'm sure most of it's not even true, but -- they'll think you're dirty, Barack. And I think it's not only going to hurt you now, it's going to hurt your future career in politics. And that would be a shame, since, some day, some day many, many, many years from now, a Black could be President, and it could be you. But not if you're dirty.
Barack: So you're blackmailing me with this...this...toilet video? Am I to understand this is blackmail?
Bill: Don't call it that, man! Don't flip your wig, O-dog! We're just helping you see what's up.
Hillary: That's right. You can call it anything you like. But the tape exists, and so do we.
Barack: You people are...sick. Honestly. Go put that video on Youtube, if that's what makes you happy, but it changes nothing. I'm going forward. I am very comfortable with being stinky, and I think the American people appreciate that I don't hide it. But I'm clean, and I am positive that the facts will bear me out. Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I need to read my kids their bedtime story.
Bill: Yo, Black. Peace.
Barack: OK, Bill.
Hillary (squints eyes): You haven't seen the last of us, Barack. And don't come crying to me if you're career ends up in the TOILET! Hahahahahaha (cackles). Come on, Bill.
Bill: Yes, massa. (Winks at Barack, and starts singing as they walk away): "I ain't sayin' she a gold-digger / But she ain't messin with no broke nigga!" Ha! You watch out, dog!
THE END