As one does.
Cheney, who insists on being called Li'l Dickens like he's the star of a 1920s radio drama, takes our hero into a private backroom. The narrator is unable to control himself in the face of Cheney's raw sexual magnetism.
Cheney, who calls our man "soldier," licks him, defends his lack of a wartime service record against thinly-veiled accusations of hypocrisy, kisses him, and then denies his homosexuality. It looks we're gearing up for some serious political commentary, but then Cheney rips his shirt off and the reader's ability to perform higher thought processes suddenly fails them.
Can you believe there are no shirtless Cheney photos on the internet? Trust us. We looked.
After admiring how hard Cheney's pacemaker is, the VP drops his pants and the two get down to business.
Pro tip: Right before sex, remind your partner of George W. Bush.
Things get hazy after that, as the writer, no doubt fearing both a horde of angry protesters and the fragility of his own sanity, hides the hot and heavy stuff behind weed use, which the narrator claims frazzles his memory. But we do get Cheney calling his penis a Bunker Buster while joking that he found a WMD in the narrator's pants. Tragically, it doesn't take a great feat of imagination to take the next logical step and picture Dick Cheney getting sodomized.
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