The President's doctor gave testimony after the President's check up. The press pack was baying for blood, or at least enflamed nymph nodes. It was fruitless. They got nothing.
"Do you have a life expectancy range for the President?"
("How much longer do we have to put up with this asshole?")
"He's gonna live forever. He's gonna outlive the lot of you."
"Does the President by any chance have cancer? Please?"
"Is this guy ill? Got haemorrhoids at least?"
"Nope."
"Is his head an actual haemorrhoid?"
"Might be. Science doesn't yet have a name for his head."
"What about his prostate. You check his prostate?"
"His prostate is beautiful."
"Give us something. Is he dying. Say he's dying. Even if he isn't."
"Nope. He's great. Nothing you ask me is going to change the fact that he's in the peak of human condition." [sic]
"Is he ever gonna die?"
"No."
"Are we talking about the same guy you and I? Grimace with the Hamburglar hair?"
"You mean the Ubermensch? Six foot three and he weighs in at one hundred and thirty pounds?"
"You must mean one hundred and thirty stone?"
"Sorry folks, nothing to see here. Any other questions?"
"Yes, doc. What has the President got on you exactly?"
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