"Need you ask," mocked the Hatter. "The 1%, or .001% that have invested in this show need to make sure that their funding sources don't dry up. In other words, War and Wall Street."
"Oh. Speaking of Wall Street, I heard that even Bloomberg is sending feelers out through his agents."
"You betcha. Trump was always intended to be the entertainer and comic relief. But no matter how outrageous the pratfalls, Palin-kissing, and pie throwing, his fans aren't throwing tomahtos. No way they'll let him be President."
"No, not by a long shot. Yet. But you can bet the understudies are already rehearsing their lines."
"I wish we cood have a woban pwesidet," Alice gasped.
"So do I," said the Rabbit. "But I am worried. Hillary's pretty progressive on social issues, but she's gosh-darned too conservative on foreign policy and economics."
"Language," chided the Hatter. "More so than Obama?"
A nod. "I'm afraid so. Plus, ironically, her being a woman could be a factor that might make her less likely to choose a peace option in a crisis for fear of looking 'weak'." The Rabbit sighed, "And didn't they just move the hands on the doomsday clock a bit closer to midnight?"
"Boy, wibben cadidates hab it tough..." choked Alice, as she upchucked her scones on the grass.
The Mad Hatter poured himself another cup of tea. "Alice is right. That question isn't politically correct. But that doesn't mean it isn't worth asking." He took a sip of his tea. "Ah, well, if the radon from Aliso Canyon hasn't killed anyone yet, we shouldn't worry about radioactive fallout. But maybe I should invite Joe Biden to dinner this week..."
"Can I come?" asked the Rabbit, ignoring a loud thump nearby.
"Sure," said the Hatter, equally oblivious. "And how about you, Alice? Want to join us? Alice? Alice?"
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