Hillary Clinton lay on the divan, struggling for air. "I'm dying," she admitted to everyone in the room. "You must all help me keep the secret until I become President. As a dying woman, there is nothing I would rather do with my last weeks on Earth than engage in a marathon sprint of campaign appearances from one end of the country to the other, secretly undergoing treatment in the intervals between my appearances several times each day. Only in this way can I complete my evil dream of becoming President for a couple of days before I croak. I will have an amazing funeral at taxpayers' expense! I intend to do everything within my power to keep being President from beyond the grave, and Tim Kaine has agreed to help me. Thank you all for your time. Let's all get to work." (Cough, cough)