"It's been a week." That seemed the most appropriate way to describe a week filled with tabloid reports, repressed urges for a member of the same sex, receiving the opportunity to name a supreme court justice, gaining another seat in the senate, and having donkeys and confetti appear out of thin air around you. It'd been a week in the life of the Democratic Party.
Mark raised his hand slightly, signalling to a waiter across the room. He needed something to drink. "I'm at the point where I'm about ready to offer myself up as the solution to the American energy crisis," he said. "I feel like I could power the entire tri-state area with my pinky." That pinky was responsible for at least three donkeys and its fair share of confetti.
"How're you?" he asked Jamie in return. "This torture thing hasn't been keeping you up too late, has it?"