SUPER HIL TO THE RESCUE

I wrote this a while back, when she was still very much in it. But don't count her out. She did only suspend her campaign, not close it, remember?
When it comes to the Clinton's, I don't think anything can be ruled out. Can you say "Vince Foster?"
________________________________________-
I wonder what’s been going through the mind of Senator Hilary Clinton these past few weeks. Maybe something like this:
My eyes open to the promise of the new day.
My gaze takes me around the room. Magically hovering in the corner is my luminescent lime-green pants suit.
I spring from my bed, don the outfit, and slick back my hair.
I am ready for action.
For I am SuperHil.
Today is the day. Another battle against the forces of the Evil ObamaNation looms beyond the dawn. Will I be able to summon the strength for yet another confrontation? Will my powers allow me to find the words to counter the constant challenge of a foe that steals from my own arsenal of weapons named "Change" and "Hope"? And, more importantly, will my stomach ever stop churning from the assault of whiskey shots, draft beer and yet another chicken dinner?
At the end of the day, will I be the one still left standing?
Of course, I will. I have faced far greater than this. Why, I have been betrayed by one whom I deeply trusted those several years back, and raised myself up from the depths of that debacle to become the first of my kind to have come so far in this quest for the House of White.
For, after all, I AM SuperHil.
But lately, it seems to be all coming apart. Bitter? Me? You bet I’m bitter. This was to have been my moment, my time to shine in the spotlight, my "coronation", to become the Head of the Realm. My cunning opponent has countered my powers, one by one. My legions of generals have abandoned me, also one by one, to cross over to "The Other Side".
But even as I fear the end is near, I persevere.
I feel stronger now, dressed in my shimmering outfit.
Let them sling their arrows. Let them launch their verbal assaults. Let them leave me, one by one. I can handle the fire. Why, I trounced "The Intern". I conquered the rushing surges of Whitewater. I dodged bullets in a foreign land.
Why, I have even shot at a duck.
Nothing can stop me.
For I am SuperHil.
But, alas, despite my continued victories on key fronts, the battle has finally ended. My followers were dwindling even as the numbers turned against me. My most trusted warriors were calling for me to end the struggle. The ObamaNation has claimed its victory. Don’t you think I can see that? But still I fight on, with my pure white pearl necklace shining against the fury of the fight.
Still, it is over.
But, is it, really?
As I retreat in solitude to my quarters, I shed the pants-suit, and pull the coverlet to my chin. I close my eyes, and dream. This quest that had began over a decade ago has ended, and badly. It is time to rest. Time to regroup. To reevaluate. But in my mind, it is not time for surrender.
In my mind, I see a chance for renewal.
This current foe may falter and fail. He is new to this game. Not like me, a seasoned warrior. And when he does, I will be there. They will seek me out to carry the banner, to save them from ruin. Yes, to save them. As it was supposed to be all along.
And I will graciously forgive them all as I pick up the shield and lead them to the triumph we deserve.
I deserve.
For I am SuperHil.