“How am I going to explain this to the Board?” Rupert moaned as he thumped his head on the desk.  Across from him sat corporate lawyer Sosumi Ciyuencourt and the Vice President of Manufacturing Stirrin Cooquet.

“Tell them that we will soon be manufacturing our own HoriXentalBop in June,” Stirrin said.  “But in the meantime, we rely on Glaxo, and they get it from some contract manufacturer.  If we can’t trust a Big Pharma manufacturer, who can we trust?  It turns out they have ‘issues.’  Their product is delayed, so there is no treatment of Restless Third Leg Syndrome available until at least June.” [1]

“We’re getting a personal visit tomorrow from both our Senator and our district’s Reprehensible,” Rupert said.  “Why?”

“That’s ‘Representative,’ Rupert,” Sosumi said.  “There’s no point in namecalling.”

“After their pathetic showing on gun control, of course there’s a point in namecalling,” Rupert said.  “They have no intention of representing us, but we need to jump to their command?”

“Congress is one of our biggest single customers for HoriXentalBop,” Stirrin said.  “No one suffers from Restless Third Leg Syndrome like a Congressman.”

“What about Mark Sanford?” Rupert asked.  “He’s not in Congress and he’s suffering more than anyone else I know.” [2]

“Yes, that’s why he’s trying to get elected in the worst way,” Sosumi said.  “If he gets elected in that worst way, he can wallow with his fellow suffers.”

“Then there’s Anthony Weiner,” Stirrin said with an almost-straight face.  “His case is so bad that he sexted his namesake on Twitter.”

Sosumi cleared her throat noisily.  “This is no laughing matter.  Congress acted decisively for the first time in years, ensuring there is no airline delay of their drug supply.  Now it’s up to us now that Big Pharma has failed us.”

Rupert looked directly into Stirrin’s eyes.  “Now it’s up to you, Stirrin.  I see I’m late for my next meeting.  So get going before Congress does us any more favors.”