The New York Times was cranking up the defense of Obama and Hillary Clinton but their story was inconceivable and it was drab and stiff-necked, just like the New York Times. They wanted me to write about the Ukraine and Turkey with the 50 nuclear bombs under their guard, the COUP was a big deal. They asked me and George Soro's two write up something big to get the people off their ass, Barack and Hillary needed some help.

It was warm in New York City, a little rain and I had ordered my nightcap as I sat in the Hotel bar room awfully proud what I had written about Hillary Clinton mixed up with the Nation of Islam led by Louis Farakhan, the negro Islamic nut job.  The alternative media wanted a hit piece and why now, it was a cash job. They wanted an article from me, it was important and they wanted it now, something that could be verified. 

The New York Times was just getting tuned up to defend Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama because of all the Cop Killings so my client friends wanted a no kidding piece about the Clintons and they were willing to pay top dollar.  I read over my article that I really didn't write and turned it in a few hours ago, it should be on the street in the morning, the internet right now. 

The New York Times was cranking up the defense of Obama and Hillary Clinton but their story was inconceivable and it was drab and stiff-necked, just like the New York Times.  They wanted me to write about the Ukraine and Turkey with the 50 nuclear bombs under their guard, the COUP was a big deal. They asked me and George Soro's two write up something big to get the people off their ass, Barack and Hillary needed some help.

Barack Obama has lost his cause as the Negroes went well beyond the burning of Baltimore as they now hunt and kill cops, mostly white cops. Dallas and Baton Rouge could force the DNC into the crapper so changing the story was a big deal.

Barack and Hillary remains a puzzle that can never be put together but there they are on t.v., linked in some kind of government conspiracy to take away guns and strike up the Marshall Law band.

White Cops look hunted now as they pick their way through crowds trying their best to protect honest citizens.  Humiliating as hell for Obama and Clinton the cops have turned against the both of them. They got the illegal aliens and the Negroes, that's about it.

The main stream media of see-no-evil, speak-no-evil, and publish no evil concerning Obama and Clinton will never notice the white piano playing in the corner and gingerly singing the last song for Barack and Hillary.

The party, that is the Democratic Party, is truly over.

The bartender set a drink in front of me and the piano played the song.  Across the room I watched Hillary Clinton sit down gingerly and take out a cigarette and lighting it.  She knew I was sitting across the room because this is the bar of choice for people speaking at the United Nations.

The cigarette started to droop slowly from her lips as she was focusing on nothing far away. She was getting a lot heat about her email server, Bill's bitches and her ties with Barack Obama.

Hillary Clinton just had a big show with the NAACP as her eyes narrowed and looked my way. She tried to look through me but turned away as Donald Trump walked through the side door.

Some excited stranger, a lone Clinton supporter started taking pictures with his phone and security ran his ass off and took his iphone and deleted the picture. 

That spasm of dirty smoke left her lips about the time he took the picture as the Secret Service guys jumped up and gave him the low down that shook the air around the bar, the wraith of security.

I watched the guy play his piano and Hillary breathe smoke and drink straight up gin, the bitch was about half gone. Having little respect for money she ordered three more drinks wasting no time as she took off her navy blue coat and tossed it over the chair next to her.

I watched the man approach her with security approval and while wearing gray gloves he handed the fat envelope to Hillary Clinton with very little reaction from Hillary.

She tossed the envelope on the table without opening it and continued to drink her gin.  Bill Clinton was not in the bar so she was looking around for some fun and games.

To my right a skinny looking olive skinned woman smiled up at me and shuffled my way and sat down.  She wore a faded red dress and gave me that desperation look and the unspoken question about sex for money.

I thought about it as the piano player hammered on the highest note as the big teeth guy with gloves smiled and walked away from Hillary's table. 

He looked like a wise-guy, the gangster look with a pistol in his pocket but now I was busy with the red dress girl, as plain as a wife and the price was right.

She looked rattled when I said yes to her price and she handed me her bedroom key in the same Hotel.. Huma Abedin needed the money so I went upstairs with her and paid her grocery bill a couple of times.

It wasn't investment planning, it was just sex.

I sat on the edge of the bed and watched her open the little door in the wall.  A gray glove came through the slot and she passed the cash money to him, very clever I thought.

She wanted to know if I wanted coffee.

As I got up from the bed the springs creaked and I heard her reluctant footsteps, still fully nude as she sighed and started to put her red dress back on.

I composed myself as I watched her cover her nude body and Huma wondered if I wanted to buy a list.

She whispered "I can get you any list you want." she raised her eyebrows as she tucked her little boobs back in the proper place and she knew I was watching.

"Shhh!" Huma was whispering again.  "She doesn't know that I sell some of her emails for cash money."  and I heard her rummage through her purse and she handed me a stack of top secret government emails.

"There not as ripe now but they are still top secrets."  as she helped me flip through top secret documents and emails.

I turned to look at her olive face "How much?"

"They've gone down just a little since the FBI got into the deal." Huma's expression didn't change and with a low chilly voice told me fifty thousand dollars for the whole batch of fifty thousand emails, it was only a buck a piece.

She was a little sheepish about the price.

"Mr. Vladimir, last month I sold the entire batch for a lot more, but you know the FBI is watching everything."  Huma leaned over and rubbed her breasts against me.

She told me she only owned two pairs of shoes, worried about making payments on her secondhand car and ate tuna most of the time while at the same time the Clintons had two billion dollars tucked inside safe deposit boxes around the world.

I turned away and turned on the T.V. and started watching the GOP debate in Cleveland and thought about her tit's and the top secret documents.

There is no disgrace in buying something for sale but it was pretty disturbing that it was this easy with Hillary Clinton down in the bar most likely drunk on her ass.

I turned back to Huma "When can we talk about this again?" certainly that would be fine.

She turned and looked at me "I work tonight." she sounded annoyed "Okay, Okay, Okay, five thousand dollars tonight!" as she rolled her eyes and sat in my lap.

It was a quarter till 2:00 a.m. and to my surprise somebody knocked on the door of room 1414 and the knocking was a shade hostile.

Huma didn't unchain the door and opened it up in a modest way and it was Hillary Clinton standing there with a twelve year old bottle of bourbon and wearing silk underwear with no top.

The deserted wife Hillary Clinton was taught to be decent and respectable but the god-fearing Hillary Clinton had that lesbian grin on her face as she looked at Huma.

Hillary had been smoking and drinking gin but she knew Huma loved her bourbon as Huma sympathetically snuck Vladimir out the side door as the clatter from Hillary got a little louder.

Huma could hear Hillary tinkle pee in the toilet and knew it was time to pay the rent and keep her job. Absently Huma took off her red dress again and concentrated on laying just right for Hillary fully nude again.

"Not a bad nights work Huma."  Hillary Clinton managed to smile as she crawled in the bed next to Huma.  A wild look came into Hillary's eyes and Huma's self respect went down.  She would have sex with the infidel so the Muslim Brotherhood could live on inside Washington D.C.

It was honky-tonk time, just like Hillary liked it.