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Style Showcase SATIRE
Courting Monica

By Tony Kornheiser

Sunday, February 22, 1998; Page F01

Where's Monica already?

I'm ready for her. We're all ready for her.

She's the grand jury's star witness. It's time for her oral presentation. (Forgive me, a poor choice of words.)

Why shouldn't Monica talk to the grand jury? She told everybody else on Earth she was having an affair with the president. She told her mother, for heaven's sake. Doesn't that beat all? In my day a girl kept sex secrets from her mother.

A letter came to my house addressed to: "Mr. T. Kornheiser or Current Occupant," which starts out: "I'm Monica Lewinsky, and I've been authorized to offer you 4.9 percent APR on a new Visa card -- and, by the way, I'm boinking the president."

Others she e-mailed. Newsweek even printed some messages Monica allegedly sent to serial tapist Linda Tripp. Monica refers to "the Big Creep's" wife as "Babba," which may be the female version of "Bubba" -- or it may indicate Monica thinks Bill Clinton is married to Barbara Walters.

I'm tired of White House aides, Secret Service officers and presidential scut boys parading in to testify. Like Steve Goodin, a Clinton aide described in print as "tending to a variety of largely menial duties, like carrying [the president's] coat, briefcase and water glass." Why bring in that guy? Bring in the guy who carried the president's pants.

I'd like to hear more from Monica's mom, Marcia Lewis, but she won't be testifying again anytime soon -- unless they get a dehumidifier in the courtroom, because the air in there is just mangling her hair. And Kenneth Starr probably won't be calling Monica's dad to testify, since Bernard Lewinsky last week compared the special prosecutor to Joseph McCarthy, the Spanish Inquisition and Adolf Hitler -- not exactly the Three Tenors.

Hearing from Kathleen Willey might be fun. Suppose Willey arrived at court disheveled, with her blouse untucked and her makeup smeared, and it turned out she wasn't groped by anyone, that's just her look -- early Madonna! (How great would a story like this be: "A high-level administration source, speaking on the grounds of anonymity, said yesterday that Kathleen Willey often pads through the White House with hat-head, her shirttail hanging out and her lipliner off target. 'This babe must get dressed in the dark,' the source said.")

But it's Monica's moment. I want to see her march into the courthouse -- and as she goes in I want to hear that boxing announcer say, "Let's get rrrrreaadddddy to rrrrrrrruummmbbbllle."

But it's secret grand jury testimony, Tony. You'll never hear it.

Oh, dear, you're right. No one will ever divulge what Monica says. There'll be no leaks at all. Well, then, I guess this is the end of the story. I'd better stop here and start writing a column about how we're backing off bombing Iraq and have decided instead to install a huge boombox on the Kuwait-Iraq border, and blast Spice Girls songs at top volume until Saddam Hussein kills himself.

Please.

Secret testimony? With Monica's lawyer William "Testing 1, 2, 3" Ginsburg? Are you kidding me? This guy will do 30 minutes into a red light on Connecticut and K.

The second Monica is done talking, CNN will have her testimony word for word. Wolf Blitzer will be reading it so quickly, he'll look like the guy in the sign language circle.

Then we'll know exactly what White House spokesman Mike McCurry meant when he said that the relationship between Mr. Clinton and Ms. Lewinsky could turn out to be "a very complicated story."

How complicated?

More complicated than the story that's in everybody's head now? The perfectly innocent one about the nice old duffer who took a professional interest in the perky young intern, and left her a few voice mails on her home answering machine, and gave her a few small gifts -- and let her drop by his office, um, 37 TIMES.

Here's what could really complicate that story:

If that was the story.

My feeling is the president would be better off with the "Stalker Nymphos From Outer Space" story, in which an alien lands on Earth in the guise of a White House intern, with only one purpose: to drain the very life force out of the leader of the Western World.

McCurry says of the Clinton-Lewinsky relationship: "I don't think it's going to be entirely easy to explain maybe."

Why not?

The president said he had no sex with "that woman." Simple, right?

Why do I think in a couple of weeks somebody in the White House is going to say, "Oh, that woman, Miss Lewinsky? No, no, I thought you were talking about this woman, Tara Lipinski. I can't speak for Lewinsky. The president never had any sexual encounter with Lipinski. Or this other woman here, Mrs. Kaczynski, Ted's mom."

I like the "alternate story line" some of the president's men are floating, that Monica Lewinsky was seduced by the animal magnetism of the president, but that she is fantasizing about the carnal nature of their relationship -- and that the president was simply being kind to someone who is a very needy person. Bill Clinton's whole career indicates that he reaches out to the needy; he feels their pain.

Thirty-seven visits.

Remember the neediest.

Excerpted from the forthcoming runaway bestseller "Bad Stuff About Mike McCurry." All rights reserved by Tony Kornheiser and Lucianne Goldberg.

© Copyright 1998 The Washington Post Company

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