By Potes
Previously on The West Wing: Campaign buses! Russell! Hoynes! Santos! Toby!! Guy who looks like Matthew Broderick (a.k.a. Will!)! Josh!
We are on the streets of New Hampshire. The dirty, rotten streets of New Hampshire, that is -- littered with hookers and used needles and head lice. No, they're quite picturesque and snowy, actually, and people are bringing each other coffee. Live free or die! Santos asks, "When was the last time you saw a politician answer a question he didn't like?" Oh so all politicians are "he," are they? Tough talk for a man who sounds like Jennifer Lopez. A woman asks if he's saying that the debates shouldn't matter, and he says he's saying that the debates should be better, and that we're practically teaching media evasion in kindergarten now. I wish that had been the case at Paris Hilton's school. (And speaking of...did you get my messages, Vin Diesel?) Santos says that the issue isn't whether he pinches Dorothy during milk and cookies, and that the American people are more concerned with the need for new nap mats, and he has a six-point plan. Okay, what? Who's Dorothy? Dorothy Zbornak? Because she will totally cut you if you pinch her during milk and cookies, particularly if they're being served on the lanai. Also, nap mats? And he's the candidate who's supposedly in touch with the issues? Try a six-point plan for eliminating illiteracy and then we'll talk.
The camera angle widens, and we see that Santos is talking to a small group of New Hampshireites outside a convenience store. A man says that it is the politicians who turn the debates into "pumpkin judging contests." Can anyone on this show speak in metaphors that make sense? Santos says that it's also the rules of the game: there is one more debate before the primary, and Santos asks if it should merely be about photo ops and sound bites -- a "beauty pageant without the beauty." This prompts a woman in the crowd to coo, "I think you're beautiful." He's all, "Thanks, Monica, but I'm set with interns." Santos says that The Dover Herald is announcing their debate rules that afternoon, and he's been "banging on them" to turn it into a real debate with all seven candidates cross-examining one another and answering the tough questions. A man says that politicians never answer the questions they don't like. Santos suggests hooking the candidates up to electrodes -- Crossfire meets A Clockwork Orange. That is one debate that I'd actually watch.
I must take a moment here to note that earlier today I was instant messaging with my mom who, as it turns out, is a huge fan of The West Wing and had several relevant thoughts that I am going to take the liberty of interjecting verbatim at opportune moments in this recap. The first is this: "That Jimmy Smitz is really quite the man!!!!!" My mom thinks Jimmy Smits is The Hot.
Will is walking with Russell, who says he doesn't understand the wooden eggs he is signing. Will explains that "Politics and Eggs" is the name of the forum Russell will be attending. Russell totally wishes he was going to the brunch-serving strip club "Legs N' Eggs" instead. Russell asks whether Will has actually tried signing a wooden egg, and Will says "it's one of those annoying brainless state traditions, like the actual voting." Wow, that's having respect for your constituency. Russell asks whether little wooden slices of toast might not be easier to sign. I think a tiny wooden omelet would go better with the theme. They continue walking into the site of the forum, and other staffers, including Donna, join the entourage. Will talks about Russell's speech, and notes that he's doing a modified stump, that they've beefed up the foreign policy section because of the Pakistani nuclear sales, and that a related sound bite is in bold. This may sound like background noise, but it will become important later. Will suggests that Russell should sign tiny nuclear reactors. That would be funniest if he signed them "Montgomery Burns." And what would you give for Mr. Burns from The Simpsons to be one of the Democratic candidates? That would be awesome. Russell asks whether he should open with the joke about the Vice-Presidential seal. Donna says that it's a hilarious joke that has been hilarious 147 times. In other words, get some fresh material, chump. Russell says that he's never done this forum before, and Will says that the audience has been at all the other forums, and week will be at the forum on forums. I would seriously hate to live in New Hampshire at primary time. Russell says that he's going to open with the joke, and Will mumbles something about telling knock-knock jokes during the foreign policy section. I am having a really hard time understanding the actors in this episode, because none of them seems to be able to open their mouths all the way.
Russell takes the podium and says that, in case the kitchen staff is wondering, he'd like his wooden eggs sawed in half and scrambled. The crowd laughs uproariously. Donna tells Will that the rules for The Dover Herald debate have just been announced. Will says he hopes that they're not doing "this Matt Santos nonsense thumb-wrestling if you misuse a statistic." Donna says that the rules are pretty thumb-free. She is interrupted by Russell's joke, which is, "If you close your left eye and squint really hard and tilt your head just so" -- and at this point Will mouths along with him -- "it reads a lot like 'President of the United States.'" The crowd laughs despite the fact that it is a lame, stupid-ass joke. Will says that if they had a seltzer bottle they could do vaudeville. What a weenie he is. Donna says, "This is important," and Will says that putting the Vice-President on a stage with six also-rans equals an unimportant debate. Donna says, "See, that's the thing."
Cut to Josh walking towards Santos, who is talking to another small crowd on the street. I bet he'd get a bigger crowd if he had an a capella group backing him. Santos tells the crowd that, every year, health care reform has been on the national agenda whether it has been passed or not, and that private ventures have kept premium prices down, so it should definitely be part of the debate. Okay, if they're trying to make Matt Santos seem like the guy who actually has a handle on "the issues," they should get someone who even a vague familiarity with those issues (or the ability to do a Google search) to script his dialogue. Because he makes no sense. Santos walks towards Josh and asks if there's any news on the Pakistani nuclear sales to Nigeria. Josh says that Pakistan is trying to back out. Santos says that they should put out a statement, and Josh replies that no one is asking. They are in a cute little boutique. Santos says that they need to lead toward a world that is free, prosperous, and also nuclear-free. Josh says "that's good," and Santos replies, "Second set starts at 9." Yes, politicians are like entertainers. We get it. We've gotten it since Sting said that they all look like game-show hosts.
Josh says that he has some bad news, and Santos guesses that The Herald has decided to have the same old phony debate rules. But Josh says that Russell and Hoynes have made a huge media buy-out in Boston, and are engaging in an "ad apocalypse." Josh doesn't know where they're getting the money, but the Santos campaign sure doesn't have it. Take a lesson from Diddy, Josh: mo' money, mo' problems. Santos says that television ads should be banned, and "screw the first amendment." I think Doc Brown might have something to say about that. Josh says that, constitutionality aside, the primary is in five days, and the airwaves will be flooded with Russell, Hoynes, and reruns of I Love Lucy. Or, if you have Lifetime, reruns of The Golden Girls. I live for those reruns. The Santos campaign needs "a silver bullet" to change the dynamic, or they are finished. Josh thinks that this should be a TV ad that will vault them out of the second tier and turn the campaign on its head. They can scrape together enough money to get one minute of prime time on WMUR. Santos wonders how one minute can compete with the aforementioned media onslaught, and Josh says it will be "one minute that is so gutsy, so edgy, so different that it will be replayed for free on every newscast in the country." Santos asks what that minute will be, and Josh says, "Working on it." Which is exactly what I tell my boss when she catches me on Fametracker and asks about my progress on any given project. In other words: bullshit. A confident Santos tells him to go ahead and buy the airtime and, worse than an overzealous sales clerk, goes to introduce himself to another shopper.
Josh asks a lady campaign staffer with duck lips (who shall heretofore be known as "Duck Lips") whether there has been anything on the debate rules. She says that it's everything they didn't want -- no interaction, no cross-examination. Josh says that the debate's a wash and no one is going to watch. Everyone has been calling it "the return of the Seven Dwarves." Duck Lips says, "Two dwarves," and tells him that only Hoynes and Russell have been invited, as The Herald is limiting the debate to candidates polling over 20%, because they're the only ones with a chance of winning. Just then, Santos walks through and says, "Already working on that silver bullet, huh?" Josh and Duck Lips exchange concerned looks. And it's finally time for the opening credits, which confirm for me that Stockard Channing did, in fact, once have decent hair. What have they done to poor Rizzo? When I asked my mom why Abbey has become such a harp, she said, "I think Abbey is just concerned for the President's health, her being a Dr. and all. I don't think they know what to do with her character." Well said, Mom! Commercials.
Santos enters his campaign headquarters sarcastically wondering why, if only frontrunners can debate, the other five Democratic contenders aren't barred from the ballot altogether. He says that if New Hampshire is suddenly becoming the Soviet Republic, they might as well go all the way. New Hampshire mail-order brides! Think of the costs you'd save in shipping. Josh says that they can't shut two-thirds of the Democratic field out of the debate. Santos tells him not to call it a debate, and sarcastically wonders what voters learn from ninety seconds of canned blather followed by sixty seconds of canned blather. Well, in the past two and a half minutes of blather, I've learned that Santos does a lot of sarcastic wondering.
Josh says that there's a serious legal argument to be made, and that exclusive debating privileges could be seen as an illegal contribution to both Hoynes's and Russell's campaigns. Josh wants to get a team of election lawyers and storm the district courts. Santos says that he doesn't want to sue his way into the debate, and Josh counters that they'll shame The Dover Herald, kick up a lot of dust, and maybe the district courts will stop the debate. Santos says that he doesn't want to stop the debate, he wants to be in it. Josh says he couldn't even get a meeting with The Herald. Santos angrily (and probably sarcastically, too) throws some darts. He asks if Josh thinks that Russell really wants to go "mano a mano" with Hoynes. Josh says, "No...why elevate the number two mano in a crowded field?" And as a note: "mano" means hand, you idiot. Santos suggests that Russell also meet with the publisher of The Herald and demand a "full and fair debate." And this is the first of many instances in this episode when Santos demonstrates that he could run his campaign much more effectively than Joshua "Forehead" Lyman. Josh asks a staffer to get Will Bailey on the phone, and also to make sure that a post-production shop is open late for purposes of making their woefully inadequate television ad.
Cut to Russell on the street, engaging a sizeable crowd. He says that he got a letter from an eight-year-old girl from Portsmouth that said he was the greatest Vice-President of her time. In the words of my mom, "I really don't like the VP -- what a jerk." He takes his leave and joins Will and Donna. He says that, just as he suspected, The Herald supports Hoynes. Will says that Josh called and invited him to meet with The Herald and refuse to participate in anything but a full-field debate. Russell says that he can't look like he's ducking Hoynes, and Donna says that if he aligns with Santos (which she pronounces as Sahn-tos), it will make Hoynes look like he is ducking the whole field. Russell mentions Santos's "nutty debate rules," and asks whether Will and Donna want the Seven Dwarves to be able to take direct shots at him. Will reminds Russell that there are only seven candidates and so he is, in fact, one of the dwarves. Perhaps the one named "Jerky." Russell says there must be a head dwarf, and Donna says that would be Snow White, which is not quite what they're going for. Will tells Russell not to worry about the debate rules, and that having more dwarves up there with the sitting Vice-President is going to make Hoynes look even smaller.
As they walk, Josh tells Santos that he and Will choreographed the whole meeting with The Herald, and that Russell should do the majority of the talking since he is the frontrunner. Santos says that he's been thinking that they do, in fact, need someone to come and help him with debate prep. Josh offers to make some calls, and Santos says that he's already called someone he knows from the Hill. The Hill of Ex-Girlfriends, that is.
Josh and Santos enter the offices of The Herald, where a stodgy fat publisher who looks like Dick Cheney, and Russell, are waiting. Russell shakes Santos's hand, and notes that he's come a long way from House Administration. Santos notes that he and Russell served together on the House Administration Committee, which Russell calls "the Siberia of committees." What's with these two and the Russian references? Soon they'll be calling their fellow candidates the Seven Matrioshka Dolls. Santos says that the committee focused on "non-binding resolutions to limit the number of non-binding resolutions." Russell kind of snarks on it and tries to remember when they served on the committee, and Santos quickly notes that it was two years ago.
Fat Dick Cheney says that the primary is in five days and the debate is in two and that, no offense to Santos, but he's not going to be the nominee. He asks how it serves voters to clutter up the stage. Russell says, "I'm sure Fidel Castro would agree." HA! He's such an asshole. Even Santos gives him a look like, "The hell?" Russell says that he knows Fat Dick Cheney is trying to do the right thing, but that it is downright undemocratic, and that "his lawyers" tell him that it might be considered an illegal campaign contribution. He says that, without the full field, he doesn't think he can participate. Fat Dick Cheney says that the people want another debate. Russell agrees, and says that he's thinking of holding his own that includes all candidates. "Who needs The Dover Herald?" he asks? Fat Dick Cheney says, "All seven Democrats," and Russell replies, "Right as rain, [Fat Dick Cheney]."
Then Santos opens his piehole. He says that they should also discuss format, and that the debates can be better and not just bigger. He mentions the New Jersey debate. Fat Dick Cheney asks whether these are the rules that Santos proposed, and Will shoots Josh a look. Santos says that if they want it to be truly democratic, they need real back and forth, and a requirement that each candidate has to answer the questions so it's not "just another seven-stump-speech collision." Russell looks mighty uncomfortable. Fat Dick Cheney says that he's all for mixing it up, but that if they propose a debate like that, no one will agree to it. Santos turns to Russell and says, "What do you say, Mr. Vice-President? A real debate with all of the candidates truly engaging on the issues?" Russell gives a terse "Great." Fat Dick Cheney says that he has to talk to his editorial board, but that he will take the proposed changes to Hoynes.
As they exit, Russell says to Will, "Who do you think was the jerk who wanted to limit non-binding resolutions?" Will says that the meeting did go a bit off-plan, and Russell says that he won't be a punching bag for the other six dwarves. Will says he'll call Fat Dick Cheney and tell him that if they use Santos's format, Russell won't debate. Russell says Will should tell him that Russell and Hoynes will pay for the debate out of their own pocket so no one will call it an illegal campaign contribution. That guy is a real bastard. As he gets into his car, he says that he didn't come to New Hampshire to be a guest lecturer in Matt Santos's etiquette class.
At the Santos HQ, Josh fields a call saying that the two-man debate is back on. He glares at Santos and tells him that he did push the rules business a bit hard. Santos says he doesn't know how anyone's helped by the candidates standing behind a podium and spewing out poll-tested pabulum. Josh says that they're not trying to help just anyone: they're trying to help Santos. "Spoken like a true Athenian," says Santos. What the hell does that mean? That plus the word "pabulum" equals Matt Santos is too smart for me. Santos says he guesses they should cancel the debate prep, but Josh tells him to go ahead with it, and that they have to get into the debate. He has two election lawyers working on a brief. He says that even if Russell is paying for the debate, he's still using The Herald's name and is getting a mountain of free media attention. Santos says sharply, "I am not taking this to court, Josh." Josh looks as if he's going to leave, but then gets another one of his brilliant ideas: "We could try the Bob Russell thing." "Get a bad haircut and break ties in the Senate?" Santos asks sarcastically. Josh says he means the idea of holding their own debate. He says they can rent the hall across the street from the official debate, invite the other candidates, and stir up good-government groups, editorial writers, and local activists because The Dover Herald does not get to decide who is a viable candidate for the highest office in the land. Perhaps they will also serve punch and pie. Santos likes it. Josh says, "Frank Capra, eat your heart out." Santos asks if they can use his rules, and Josh says that they can use whatever rules they want, and that Santos should get ready to debate.
Russell bus. Will and Donna play a tape for Russell -- it is his new ad. It begins with Russell saying, "I'm Bob Russell. And I approve this ad." And get ready to hear a lot about this. The ad attacks Hoynes, saying that he had an 84% NRA voting record in the Senate but now promises to crack down on hand guns, and that, as Vice-President, Hoynes praised the Pakistani defense minister, who may now be selling nuclear secrets to Nigeria. The ad ends by saying, "You can't take America's side by taking both sides. John Hoynes: Whose side is he on?" Oh, so he's the flip-flopping candidate. Russell asks Will if he's sure they should use the ad, presumably because of its negative tone, and Will reminds him of an attack ad Hoynes ran. The phone rings. It's Santos, who wants to talk to Russell. Russell shakes his head, and Will says to tell Santos that he's tied up.
As they walk away, Donna questions why, if Russell is the frontrunner, his ads have to be so negative. Will ignores her comment and notes that they have to work up some Q&A for the two-man debate. He asks Donna if she'd like to do it over dinner. Donna looks at him with a mix of suspicion and repulsion: "You're asking me to dinner?" He says that they've had dinner four nights in a row, and she says yes they have, but that he never asked her, they just went. Donna looks a little like Shelley Duvall in this scene, which is not a good thing. She asks who else she'd have dinner with, since everyone else on the campaign is fourteen and irons their blue jeans. Well, how are you ever going to find a man with that attitude, Donna? Will says fine, and Donna says great, and asks a volunteer for one-pagers on domestic policy and NSC guidance on Pakistan. Will says, "So...do you want to grab dinner later?" Donna says sure. Wow, those two are really on fire with the chemistry.
Meanwhile, Josh is instructing staffers on plans for their debate. He says to set it up like a real debate -- seven podiums, a table for the moderator, etc. When they get back to HQ they'll draft an announcement. Duck Lips asks when there will be time for debate prep. Josh says that Santos will be working with a guy he's brought in from the Hill. Wrong! But we'll get to that in a minute. Josh says that they're going to start a massive public-relations crusade and call every political reporter, party leader, and PTA recording secretary in the state to tell them that The Herald's debate is a sham, but that Santos's debate is awesome. You know who belongs to the PTA? Janice Dickinson. I think her debate coverage might read something like, "Why would I vote for Bob Russell? He looks like a child prostitute." In other words: awesome. Duck Lips asks if he really thinks anyone will cover their debate, and Josh says that theirs is a Trojan debate and will never actually happen. Well, at least Josh can plan around a Trojan something. The purpose is to turn public opinion so that the Herald lets Santos into the main debate. A guy who is balder than Josh asks if he really thinks that will work, and Josh says that if he wanted the bald guy's opinion, he'd put him in a focus group in Missouri.
Josh then wants to talk about the ad, which the bald guy says he doesn't understand either. Josh says that they don't have money for a big glitzy ad, so they're going to run something funny, feisty, and out of the box. And you know when someone uses the phrase "out of the box" that it's going to be bad. Josh says the ad should turn their one minute of prime time into a national sensation. Nudity and midgets, I tell you. Duck Lips suggests having Santos in ice skates and a goalie outfit pledging to defend America. If he were shirtless and using Verne Troyer as a puck, I think it could work. Josh says to think closer to the box. Bald Guy asks what the message is, and Josh says that they should talk about their exclusion from the debates. Bald Guy says, "So what do we do, film chicken coops and say they're too chicken to debate us?" Josh gets a funny glint in his eye. Man. His bad ideas aren't even his own. And also, Bald Guy was kidding. Josh tells Bald Guy that he wants two volunteers in giant chicken suits in his office first thing in the morning. Dude, what is wrong with him? I asked my mom about this and she said, "I do like Josh, I don't know why they're making him out to be stupid. Maybe there is something down the road that will make all this clear." I do hope so, Mom. Duck Lips and Bald Guy seem a bit perplexed. Bald Guy asks if Santos will like this, and Josh says that Santos will like anything that keeps him in the race. But that they shouldn't tell him about it.
As they enter the hotel, Josh says, "Feisty," and then sees something which momentarily takes him aback. He tells Duck Lips and Bald Guy to play around with the poultry theme, and they walk off. Again, if you're using the words "poultry theme" seriously in a political campaign, you might want to think about getting into a different line of work. We then see the object of Josh's gaze. It is one Miss Amy Gardner, looking fine in a giant furry white hat and licking an ice cream cone. Very subtle, this show is. And though it's not a popular opinion around these parts, I must say that I think Mary-Louise Parker is possessed of a remarkable amount of talent and loveliness. Having said that, no self-respecting leader of a women's organization would wear that hat. Josh walks up to her, and she studiously ignores him in favor of her Blackberry. He says hi and after a moment, she says hi back. And you know, I kind of wish that she would break character for just a minute and get all up in the camera and say, "Hey Claire Danes...eat this, you homewrecking skank!" Sadly, she does not. And before I continue, I just have to say one thing to Mr. Billy "Dee Williams" Crudup, if he's out there and listening: You know who else left his very pregnant wife in favor of a blonde tart with questionable talent? That's right. Kevin Federline. You, sir, are no better than a twice-baked slack-jawed Cheeto-eating half-wit. So stick that in your manpris, punk. I hope you're proud of yourself.
Anyway, Josh says hi and Amy says hi back, and continues to lick her ice cream cone. Josh asks if it isn't a little cold for ice cream, and that she could have bought "just...cream." Good one there, Lyman. Amy snaps back, "I embrace the cold. I luxuriate in the cold. I fight cold with more cold." Come on, she's awesome. I am totally going to use that line some day. Josh asks her what she's doing in New Hampshire. She says that she could ask him the same thing, but it would be more of an existential question. She then takes a seductive bite of ice cream. Josh says that if he wants dark, depressing thoughts about alienation and nothingness, he watches cable news. Amy says that he's funny. Josh says that what's funny is that Amy didn't call him before she gave a speech at the Shorenstein Center. Always ruining a good punch line, that one is. Amy says that she runs the Women's Majority Fund and gives hundreds of speeches, and what is he, anyway -- her dad? Josh takes issue with the fact that she trashed the entire Democratic field, saying that they were going to lose before they even had a nominee. Amy says that she was throwing down a gauntlet, and Josh says that where he's from they call it littering. Amy says that the field is pathetic, that not one of the contenders can take the Republicans, and that she called them the Seven Dwarves for a reason. I want her to be my girlfriend.
Josh says that he's not going to get into an argument about whether size matters. Amy smirks a little. Did they have a debate about the size of Josh's penis in an earlier season? Because I wish I had seen that. He says that he's there in the trenches running a one-man show, and he's sick of Democrats eating their young. Amy says that if you wash it down with a little Rocky Road, it's not so bad. Josh says that she still hasn't told him what she's doing in New Hampshire. A bellman tells Amy that her room is ready. Amy tells Josh, "The simple answer is, I'm prepping Matt Santos for the debate you haven't gotten him into. The existential answer...it's [something] stuff, Joshua." And that [something] might be "pretty good" or it might be "tricky" or it might be none of the above. I couldn't understand her, because her mouth was full. And with that she hands him her half-eaten ice cream cone and takes her leave. Commercials.
When we return, Josh tells some persons we cannot see that he wants them at every Hoynes and Russell campaign event within the twenty-four hours. He says that obviously Bob goes to the Russell events, and John to the Hoynes event. As the camera pans around, he says that they're trying to make a serious point and turn public opinion, so no roughhousing, no tearing down signs -- and, as we see that he is talking to two men in chicken costumes -- "no excessive flapping of the wings." He tells them not to lie about why they're there or heckle but, if they get the chance, to ask humbly and respectfully, "Are you too chicken to debate the full field?" He thanks them, and the two young guys have a look on their faces like, "Dude, the Young Republicans always had mixers with hot babes. Maybe they were on to something."
A bit later, Duck Lips tells Josh and Bald Guy that no one has accepted their debate invitation, and only two local papers have written editorials. They have been calling everywhere but can't get national press. But the alternate debate site is ready, and looks good. I'm guessing they're having it at a Popeye's. Josh asks for pullquotes from the editorials for the TV ad. Bald Guy says that he doesn't understand why they don't put policy in the ad, because Santos has great policy. Josh says that they're trying to get free media, and that great policy doesn't give goosebumps to bored fifty-five-year-old second producers. Bald Guy says, "Opposed to..." and Josh finishes the sentence with "Chickens." This, my friends, is the Colonel's secret recipe for disaster. Bald Guy says it's a complicated business, and Josh says he has no idea. I actually think it's Josh who doesn't have any idea, or even a single clue. Duck Lips returns and tells Josh that he's not going to believe who's on the phone.
Cut to Santos, who tells Amy that he feels terrible making her prep him when he's not even in the debate. Amy says that he's not in the Olympics either, but that doesn't mean he doesn't do some sit-ups now and then. Santos says that Amy has coached fifty women Congressional candidates to debate wins, so there must be some secret. Amy says that the secret is to always keep an extra pair of pantyhose in your purse. No, the secret is to flash a little thigh. Or, if you're Paris Hilton, some crotch (and God forbid the words "Congressperson Hilton" ever pass through my lips in earnest). Santos says that after bombing the way he did in Iowa, he's not going to rule that out. So I guess the point here is that, despite his bulging biceps and ability to seduce my mom, Santos is a woman. Amy says that she's looked at the tapes and that Santos is great, quotable, and cute enough to be a Presidential primary pinup. Santos jokes that she should see his runway work. Oh, how I miss Top Model. Amy tells him that he doesn't have the "Presidential voice." It's true that he kind of sounds like a weenie. It's a time of global peril, and he's going to be sharing the stage with two Vice-Presidents. He says, "Or none."
Santos jumps behind a podium, and Amy mock-debate-asks him what he thinks of the alter-nationalist gains in the Russian parliamentary elections. He says, "Well it ain't the Litchfield City Council, but Russia makes its own choices, and --" Amy interrupts him to tell him that he just wrote the lamer half Jay Leno's monologue joke. Since that monologue is regularly comprised of "lamer" and "lamest," I guess this means he could be doing worse. She says that he's not house backbench, he's trying to get a quote on CNN -- sobriety, understatement, let the words carry the authority. He finally gets what she means by Presidential voice. She tells him to think of filling out a suit "rather than wearing bright orange..." "Pantyhose?" he asks. She says she was thinking neckties, but what the hell.
Josh enters, so you know things are going to take a turn for the worse. He asks how things are going, and Amy says they're still on hosiery. Josh needs Santos for a moment. Santos asks how the ad is going, and Josh says they'll have something ready by prime time tomorrow night. Read: "It is going quite poorly, and may I add that I am also an imbecile." Santos says he's sorry he didn't tell Josh about Amy. Josh ignores this remark and says that he just got a call from Hoynes's campaign manager, who wants a meeting with Josh. Santos asks if he thinks this means that Hoynes wants Santos in the main debate. Josh says that he can't imagine why, but that they are getting some good editorials and may be "making more hay" than he thought. Santos asks if he should come too, and Josh says that after getting all up in Fat Dick Cheney's business at The Herald...no. Santos, in something of a squirrelly manner, asks if Josh has a few minutes for debate prep. Josh coldly says that he should get back in there, and leaves. Read: "I'm a big fat baby and Amy Gardner is too cool for me."
Hoynes walks toward Josh and tells him that the funny thing about being out on the campaign trail again is that you never stop talking. Wow, I guess everyone on this show is on the campaign trail. He has fifteen stops a day, eight speeches, five interviews -- and could even do forty-five seconds on Josh's overcoat. I see you, Mr. Hoynes, and raise you one minute on Josh's hairline. Josh asks if Hoynes wants to talk about the debate, and Hoynes says he doesn't. Josh says that Hoynes benefits from a two-man debate, but that there are already editorials denouncing The Herald's decision, and public opinion is turning, which Hoynes will start seeing at his events. In the form of grown men dressed as chickens. Hoynes says that, first of all, Russell is footing the bill for the debate, and second, since Russell has been attacking him with vicious ads, he wants an opportunity to get him up there one-on-one.
Josh asks why Hoynes wanted to see him, and Hoynes says it's to talk about Matt Santos's statement on Pakistan. He tells Josh that he used the exact phrase "free and nuclear-free" himself, and if they're going to be working from the same material, they need to coordinate. Josh asks what he's talking about, and Hoynes says that the phrase came from Amy Gardner's memo about the Presidential voice, and he assumes that's where Santos got it as well. Josh looks blandly stunned that Amy gave Hoynes the same memo. Hoynes says, "Security is the new women's issue...pretty smart stuff, isn't it?" Josh says that it is. Hoynes leaves, and Josh looks pissed.
Santos walks into his campaign HQ, where Hoynes's attack ad is playing to a captive audience. Bald Guy says that Hoynes approved it on camera. Santos says that he fought for that in Congress, where they thought that if a candidate had to look directly into the camera and approve every ad, the tone of the campaigns would be raised. Duck Lips says it isn't working very well, and Bald Guy says that the candidates approve the ad at the top so by the time the knife is twisted, you forget who stuck it in. Santos says that he's going back to the hotel for his debate prep.
Meanwhile, at a hockey game, Russell is talking to the press and making the same lame joke about the Vice-Presidential seal. Will asks Donna if she knows what's troubling him about their answer on Pakistani nukes. She mumbles some sort of smart political answer that I can't quite make out. And even if she spoke in crystal-clear tones, I would, quite frankly, be distracted by the giant chicken standing behind her. Will says that what troubles him is that the answer is ninety seconds long instead of sixty. Donna says she hates when clandestine proliferation networks won't stay on the clock. I could totally Google that and pretend that I knew what it meant all along, but I'm only a substitute recapper. Meanwhile, Chicken Bob walks towards the Vice-President, to great fanfare. Will asks if that was really Advil that Donna gave him on the bus, which makes me long for the acid-inspired episodes from the Aaron Sorkin days. Donna notes that there is a very large chicken standing before them. The chicken asks Russell why he is against a full participation debate and whether he is, in fact, chicken. I think this would be the perfect time for Russell to fall back on the old "I know you are, but what am I?" retort.
Donna takes action and grabs the chicken. She asks if he is from the Santos campaign, which he confirms. She then has her grand monologue for the episode, which goes something like this: "Do you realize how pathetic this is? Do your parents know you're doing this? Pakistan could be arming Nigeria -- a potential Muslim coup -- and you're pulling shaving cream-and-balloon-style pranks. If this is his idea of democracy, Matt Santos belongs in a fraternity house, not a debate. Now go dip your beak in someone else's feed." As she pushes Chicken Bob out the door, she turns around to lots of flashing cameras and reporters taking notes. "Tell me you're not going to use that," she says. Well played, Janel Maloney!
Meanwhile, Matt "Tolstoy" Santos is preparing at debate central, where he's talking ever more about the Russians. Amy wearily says, "No, no, no, bad, bad, bad." She tells Santos that if she could pull a lever and drop him through a floor, she would. I wish I could press a button and do that every time I saw George W. Bush's face. Santos's analysis is fine, but the leader of the free world needs to speak in broad concepts and value statements such as, "I love America" and "I will lead the world towards liberty." And sorry, Mary-Louise Parker, but those sound totally queer. I know you didn't write the episode, though, so we can still be hot lesbian lovers. Santos says sarcastically that he doesn't sound pompous enough. Amy says that he sounds like he's commenting on events rather than shaping them. Santos says that he doesn't shape events -- that's not how he thinks. Amy tells him to change the way he thinks.
Josh sulks in, and Santos asks if there's anything from Hoynes. Josh says yes, and that he needs five minutes with Amy. Amy says that she's trying to help Santos to get the whole Presidential voice thing, which is like the difference between John Lennon and John Davidson. And if you follow that link, be afraid. Be very afraid. Josh says that Amy should have told him she's working for Hoynes, and that she's feeding one-liners to both campaigns. She says that she's not working for Hoynes, and that she gave a memo to all seven candidates. And that you could land Air Force One on Josh's forehead. He says, "I suppose your love is a free gift to the Bolshevik brothers, too." What? Amy says, "Did you see the gender gap in the last election? Probably not because there pretty much wasn't one." Again...what? Josh says something about chicks digging plagiarism, and Amy says that security is the new women's issue, and that Democrats sound like a bunch of "think tank hair twirlers," which is why they're losing so many races. Josh says that she should pick a candidate and help him, and Amy says that she wants every candidate to be able to take the Republicans in the fall. Josh says that Amy doesn't give a damn about the candidates, and Amy say she wants the whole party to be strong. The argument is getting quite heated. Josh says, "We don't open our inner circle to dilettantes and earth mothers." I was about to say, "Okay, WHAT?" for the sixteenth time this episode, but then I realized that that's sort of the founding philosophy of TWoP. So earthmadre74 and DilettwuntLuvsBrad, I'm sorry to tell you that your forum registrations have been denied. Amy says, "Who's 'we'? You didn't even know I was coming." Josh says, "No, but I know you're leaving." Oooh, burn. They stare at each other for a long moment, and then Amy packs up her folder and leaves. Josh tries to make a joke, but fails miserably, just as he does with everything.
Santos enters and asks what happened. Josh tells him that Amy is going back to Washington, and that she has been advising the whole field. Santos is mad. Josh says that Amy is brilliant, so he can see why Santos would want her, and she's also his ex-girlfriend, which is why he thinks Santos didn't tell him she was coming. Santos says that he knew about Amy's memo to all of the candidates, which is why he didn't tell Josh. And that kind of doesn't make any sense. He says, "You think I care about your dating life?" Playing it cool, there, are you, Rufus Wainwright? Josh makes a condescending remark about "Politics 101," where you learn that the object is to beat the other guy. Santos says that they're all getting beaten on the issue of security and that, like with the debate rules, they should all embrace the opportunity to be better. He then asks about the chickens he just saw on CNN. Josh says that they need to get to the district court. Santos says that they are not going to any court, and also..."Chickens?" Touché, good sirrah. He tells Josh to tell his lawyers to go find an ambulance to chase. Josh says that, in case Santos hasn't noticed, they're in an ambulance and things aren't going well in the campaign. Santos says that Josh's methods are not the way he wants to do things. He says that Amy is telling him to be more Presidential, and Josh is having him act like a mob attorney. Josh says that what Amy didn't tell him about the Presidential voice is that you have to become President to use it. Commercials.
Josh is complaining to C.J. on the phone. C.J. says that if they have to cancel their alternate debate because of lack of interest, Santos is pretty much out of the race. Josh says that Santos has no PR instincts, and that he practically had Josh batter-dipped and seasoned when he saw Donna fighting a chicken on TV. C.J. says, "Talk about dignifying a weak opponent. You don't engage a chicken. Didn't you teach that girl not to engage a chicken?" Josh says it's the best press they've had all week. C.J. hangs up the phone. And my mom had some very strong opinions about C.J., which I will relay in their original IM form.
Mom: I hope they stay on the road on WW -- they spend too much time on CJ (Allison Janney, I think). I believe Tommy Slami (spelling) is her husband.
Potes: I think Tommy Schlamme is married to Christine Lahti. They are both tall, though, so I see how you might get them confused.
Mom: Oh who the heck plays CJ -- maybe Christine Lahti.
Potes: No, CJ is Allison Janney.
Mom: Well, they could get rid of CJ whoever she is and to whomever she is married.
At the Santos HQ, Josh has the final tape of the ad, which some poor sap worked very hard on all night. Josh asks Duck Lips whether she got a cell-phone number for Amy, and she says that Amy called and left it for Santos with explicit instructions not to give it to Josh. Heh. Santos enters and asks to see the ad. He looks kind of generally peeved. The soundtrack of the ad is banjo picking, and it has some clips of Hoynes and Russell interspersed with footage of...you guessed it...chickens. The campaign folks seem to like it and Josh looks proud of the ad, until he sees Santos's face. Santos says that it's an attack ad, and asks if Josh expects him to approve it. Josh says they'll put his approval at the top. Santos thanks everyone for their hard work, but says they're not running the ad.
Santos steps outside, looking increasingly P.O.'ed, and Josh soon follows, holding the videotape. Josh says that the ad espouses Santos's argument that the people deserve a full and fair debate. Santos says it wasn't what he had in mind. Santos says that the ad is sketch comedy. Josh says it's fun and feisty and will get them on the news. Santos says that it's cheap. Josh says that nobody else cares about his Marquis of Queensbury rules, whatever that means. ["Maybe this?" -- Wing Chun] Santos responds that he didn't want to have a crank campaign swinging wildly at the gates of Eden, whatever that means. Can't they reference, like, limericks or something simple for the averagely intelligent person like myself? "Nobody else cares about your There Once Was a Girl from Nantucket rules!" See, it works. Josh says that he admires Santos's debate rules and ethics, but that they are game players and this is their last chance to make a splash. Josh says that they've got a good ad and a minute of prime time on one of the state's top stations, and that if Santos doesn't want to run it, it's up to him. Josh leaves and Santos remains, standing in the dark outside of the building.
Bald Guy retrieves Santos and suggests getting footage of his stump speech from CNN to run, but they both know there is not world enough or time. Santos asks if Bald Guy saw the New Jersey Senate debate the week. Bald Guy did not. Santos says that someone asked about the situation in Freedonia, and one of the candidates said that he was studying it. He adds that Freedonia is fake, and a reference from a Marx brothers movie, but there was no follow-up or cross-examination. The bigger story in the paper the day was how he slammed his opponent for being too liberal. And I can't believe that the episode was named after that. I would have chosen to call it "Mother Clucker." Santos says that you get into politics thinking that you'll play by your own rules, but they are chipped away bit by bit until you can't even name the game. I know the game, and it is Yahtzee. Santos asks if Bald Guy thinks there is such a thing as the Presidential voice. Bald Guy says, "It always seemed to me that the President makes the voice, not the other way around."
And suddenly, Santos is on fire! He says that they are going to WMUR. Josh asks if he is running the ad, and in response Santos throws the videotape in the trash and says that he's going to do it live for camera. Josh is flabbergasted.
At WMUR, the station manager leads Josh and Santos, saying that New Hampshire loves live TV. He asks if Santos will talk about Pakistan, and Josh says that he doesn't want to spoil the surprise. Station manager says that they'll have to forgive the jaded staff -- they hardly look up even when the first-tier candidates walk through. Santos and Josh glare at him.
Countdown to Santos's spot. He gets a little shine-control action from the makeup person. And then, he gives his one-minute ad, with Josh and all of New Hampshire watching, enraptured: "Good evening. I'm running for President. And if you don't know who I am, I wouldn't be surprised. I've been shut out of tomorrow night's debate for suggesting that it actually be a debate and this is the only ad I could afford. I got in this to improve a broken school system, to fix entitlements 'cause they're going bankrupt, to expand health coverage 'cause it'll save money if fewer people show up in emergency rooms. What I've found is that Presidential campaigns aren't about these things. They're about clawing your opponents' eyes out so long as you don't get tagged for it. So how about this. I will never say anything about my opponents -- or anything about anything -- without saying it myself, right into the camera. You might not get to hear much of me but when you do, you'll know I stand by it. I'm Matt Santos. And you'd better believe I approve this ad." He grabs his coat and walks out of the studio, with Josh trailing him and the station employees standing at attention and offering "great job" and "congratulations." As we cut to commercials, we get the sense that public opinion might finally be turning. And for the record, my mom totally thinks that Santos will win.
The Santos HQ is abuzz with activity and donation calls. As Santos walks back, reporters surround him. They note that Hoynes has no comment on his ad, and Santos says he has no comment on Hoynes's lack of a comment. A reporter asks him if he's planning on doing more live TV, and he says that he's working on his own game show entitled Let's Make a Country. And in reality we, as a nation, we have chosen door number three -- the one with the dumb-ass who can't pronounce "nuclear," in a giant rocking chair with a goat. Shouldn't have traded that dinette set. Reporters ask Josh who wrote the ad, and he tells the disbelievers over and over again that Santos wrote his own ad.
The evening news on another station replays Santos's ad as Amy watches. Josh enters, and the newscaster notes that while it remains to be seen if the ad can turn around a flagging campaign, it does raise the question, "If candidates mean what they say, why don't they simply say it themselves?" Josh tries to kowtow to Amy, noting that it's very hard out there, and that grenades are being lobbed from all sides, even from friends. Amy says that even their friends need to know if they can take it. The news says that Bob Russell stands by all his ads, and the wheels in Josh's giant forehead start turning. He says that they should call columnists and start doing spin. Amy says no -- the thing will spin itself, and Josh is going to ruin it, just like he's almost ruined everything else this episode. Amy tells him to sit. He slowly walks over to her and sits down, and she ties him to a chair with masking tape. And there's something about her familiarity with this motion that makes me think we really might have a future together. Call me, MLP! And I think that for a fleeting second Josh thinks he can do her, but Amy sits back down in her own chair and turns up the volume on the TV. Josh asks what happens . Amy says very little, and Josh bites at his restraints. Reoowwww!
Meanwhile, the reporters still love Santos. One asks him if he's cynical about the fact that the other four reject candidates have now agreed to enter his debate. He says that yesterday the debate looked like a vanity exercise, and that he might not have been sitting there himself. Another reporter says that MSNBC is planning on airing the debates back to back. Santos says that he can't watch, because he's busy that night. And now I'm thinking that maybe it was Jay Leno who actually wrote this episode.
Everyone at the Russell campaign is pissed. Will says that the public loves an underdog, and that they should pull some of their negative ads and replace them with positives. Russell is afraid it will look like they're retreating. Will says that if the public falls in love with "Mr. Squeaky Clean," it's not wise for the Russell campaign to be rolling in the mud. Russell says that they're leading in the polls, and that he won't change his ads because of a stunt. He thanks God that they kept Santos out of the proper debate, because might have shown up in a powdered wig quoting from The Federalist Papers. And he maybe would have. He takes himself a little seriously, is all I'm saying. Donna is the lone voice of dissent. She says that maybe Santos's ad is a stunt, but if it is they invited it by trying to ride above the herd and treating everyone else as if they were a herd. She says that Russell has to go to Santos's debate, and Hoynes would have to follow suit. This way, they're letting the chips fall based on Russell's ideas and not some Machiavellian maneuver. Russell gives a look that says, "But I've always been quite fond of Machiavellian maneuvering."
More Santos, talking to reporters about Pakistan, and saying that he agrees with John Hoynes that we have to keep the world "free, prosperous, and also nuclear-free." See, Josh, he had a plan all along. Josh enters and Santos asks where he's been. Josh says he got tied up. Punny! He then says it's fine if Santos wants to bring Amy back. Because Josh finally remembered that he is one big bottom. He then says that Hoynes turned them down for the debate again. Just as Josh says the words "raw opportunism," we learn that Russell has opted to join the Santos debate, and Hoyes had no choice but to follow suit.
Russell gets made up for the debate, and we learn that they are following the rules Santos wanted. Donna notes what Will said about frontrunners -- everything to lose, and nothing to win. Donna asks him if he wants to have dinner later. He says, "Who else am I going to have dinner with?" I don't know about you guys, but I see a bright future for these two.
Josh stands with Santos on the side of the debate stage. He says that he doesn't know whether he's served Santos well in the past few days. Santos says, "What are you talking about?" Um, he's talking about the fact that he's been kind of a douche, Mary Sunshine. Santos then says that the ad and debate were Josh's idea. Josh says he never thought they'd actually be debating, and that it's a miracle he thought to order podiums. Um, technically it was probably Duck Lips who thought of that. Josh says he can't think of one thing he did to make Santos own the campaign, and not have it turn into "some cookie-cutter Beltway hack-a-thon." Santos says, "I can think of one...you put me in it." They exchange a meaningful glance, and it really looks like if someone put a nice Cher ballad on in the background that they would start going at it something fierce. Also, I'm not usually a fan of cosmetic enhancements, but...for the love of God, Bradley Whitford, get some Botox for that forehead. Santos walks to the stage.
Amy comes up behind Josh and maybe gooses him. He asks if he can buy her an ice cream cone when the debate is over. He gives a sly little smile and long sideways glance that means, "That's code for 'I want to screw you silly.'" Amy almost smiles back, and then says her flight is leaving in an hour. She can never stand to see the candidates flub her lines. She leaves. Josh follows for a few steps and watches her walk down what must be a long hallway. As the debate starts, he turns back to watch the new love of his life, Matt Santos, give the speech that will put the down payment on their Fire Island bungalow.
week on The West Wing: the return of LTG! Praise him wildly, because recapping this show is really, really hard. Also, Josh and Toby come to blows! As my mom says, "What the heck would Josh and Toby be fighting about. Oh well."