Bill & Judy Share a Quiet Moment

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NOTE: Rushed transcription of a private conversation between NY Times' Executive Editor Bill Keller and Judith Miller, a Times reporter and woman of mystery.

BILL: Hello, Judy. Thank you for coming in.

JUDY: What?

BILL: How was jail?

JUDY: Where?

BILL: Jail--how was it?

JUDY: Fail? Did I fail?

BILL: Jail. Because of Plame.

JUDY: Fail? Because of Flame?

BILL: What?

JUDY: Why do you ask now, of all times.

BILL: When?

JUDY: Now.

BILL: Now, what?

JUDY: Can we stop? I want to go home and fake a pie.

BILL: You mean "bake a pie."

JUDY: That's what I said.

BILL: No you didn't. You said "fake a pie."

JUDY: Sorry--my stove isn't working properly. Something wrong with the Plame.

BILL: You mean the flame.

JUDY: Puck you. I know what I mean.

BILL: Look, I'm getting a lot of heat regarding your role in the CIA outing.

JUDY: From my stove? I told you: something wrong with the Plame.

BILL: Oh, I get it: you're talking in code--like in your notes when you wrote "Flame."

JUDY: That's why they fay you the big ducks.

BILL: Right. Uh, Fresident Bush...

JUDY: Yes...

BILL: ...and the neocons used you to help aid their flan to invade Iraq.

JUDY: Yawn.

BILL: And to discredit anyone who might have evidence to the contrary of their pantastic weapons claims.

JUDY: I'm one of their biggest pans. And Flame was a small frice to fay to teach Wilson a lesson: never tell the truth if the farty in flower has no morals.

BILL: But your time in jail was not a case of you footing your money where your pout is.

JUDY: Don't fist me off.

BILL: That was code, right? That's all I needed to hear. Your work here is done. Flease go away and don't come back. You are a pink and a praud.

JUDY: I seem to remember that you flayed along for over three years, you hiffocrite. Can I have my notebook back?

BILL: When hell pleezes over.

JUDY: At least we'll go down in plames together.

END OF TRANSCRIPTION

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