Erection Season; or, Fifty Shades of Black (With a Little Bit of Grey at the Temples) (Romney/Ryan)

hailtotheslash:

The consultant had brought it up toward the end of the vetting session almost as an afterthought. “You realize, I assume,” he began, “what accepting this position means in terms of your - availability to the President.” 

Paul groaned inwardly. “Of course I do,” he said, casting a longing glance toward the window. He’d never gone this long without pull-ups before, and the inactivity was making him irritable. And he’d been sitting in the same hard plastic chair in the same hot and airless room, answering the same barrage of questions (yes, twice; not that I’m aware of; you’d really have to check with the doctors on call that day; never; a little to the left but not noticeably I don’t think) from a parade of seemingly identical and endless frowning, red-faced old men. 

“What I mean to say is that you’ll belong to him - in the way of Vice Presidents.” 

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FACE DOWN ASS UP