The Conservative Teehouse
The blood slowly drains from the face of Margaret Brennan as she faces the indefatigable smiling truth that Kevin Hassett represents. The furrowed brows deepen, the lips pulsate to a purple posture, the accusatory sanctimony drips from her squints and failed constructs until ultimately, she is reduced to a sneering inflection of autonomous twitching.
Kevin Hassett smiles, thanks Ms. Brennan for her endeavors, outlines the White House position on the BBB and China trade negotiations, then happily orders an ice-cream cone for his walk back to the office on a bright sunny day.
The blood slowly drains from the face of Margaret Brennan as she faces the indefatigable smiling truth that Kevin Hassett represents. The furrowed brows deepen, the lips pulsate to a purple posture, the accusatory sanctimony drips from her squints and failed constructs until ultimately, she is reduced to a sneering inflection of autonomous twitching.
Kevin Hassett smiles, thanks Ms. Brennan for her endeavors, outlines the White House position on the BBB and China trade negotiations, then happily orders an ice-cream cone for his walk back to the office on a bright sunny day.
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