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“All right, ladies and gentlemen,” Dan said, rubbing his hands together as he led the small group down the hall. “We could have been anywhere in the world today, but we’re in the fucking White House for this fucking Cabinet meeting.” Amy and Dan groaned audibly. Kent groaned silently. Richard Splett grinned like the idiot that he was. “I enjoy Cabinet meetings,” he said cheerfully. “What are the issues on the table?” asked Selina. Amy was pretty sure Selina was supposed to know these things, being the President of the United States and all. But then again, the agenda for today’s cabinet meeting was so very stupid that even Gary hadn’t had an opinion on it.“Secretary Hamilton’s plan to abolish the penny,” Amy supplied. She could not have cared less whether the penny stayed or went. She cared very much that she had to suffer through an utterly pointless cabinet meeting about it; no matter what came out of the meeting, Hamilton would have to get his plan through Congress. “I’m quite the numismatist myself,” said Richard. “I’m in possession of a 1943 copper wheat penny. It’s been a family heirloom for generations. It was part of the change handed back to my grandfather, Harrison Splett, when he purchased a ham sandwich at an Army cantina just after his discharge from the military following his service in Korea.” “Too bad he didn’t pull a Mama Cass,” said Dan. “Cass Elliot died of heart failure,” said Kent. "The ham sandwich is an urban legend." Selina rolled her eyes. “My god, is anyone going to utter a single interesting sentence today?” Just before they entered the room, Selina pulled Amy aside and whispered to her, holding a hand up to cover her mouth. Like there was anyone in the room—other than, perhaps, Richard—who didn’t know the one thing in this meeting to which Selina would pay attention. “Hey, Amy. Do you know whether, uh…” Selina’s eyebrows raised suggestively, and Amy fought to keep her own face neutral. “No, ma’am,” she said. “I don’t have any word on the Vice President’s dinner plans.” Really, she wasn't even sure whether the Vice President was attending today's meeting. A more pressing issue—that was, if anyone wanted to get to dinner on time—was what kind of mood the Secretary of the Interior would be in. Whether or not the Secretary of the Interior would be in attendance was not a question; the Secretary of the Interior had never missed a Cabinet meeting. In fact, she had a terrible habit of showing up at meetings that had nothing whatsoever to do with her. With binders. Today was no exception. Secretary Knope had, once again, prepared rebuttal binders. Amy refused to open the one she was handed. “Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” Secretary Knope began. “We fought for these ideals; we shouldn’t settle for less.” “Oh, god,” Amy sighed, not caring whether anyone overheard her. “Is she rapping?” She deliberately let her mind run blank for a moment. Selina would never notice; she was too busy staring at the Vice President. The Secretary of the Interior was not, in fact, rapping. Thank god. She was merely talking very quickly. “But Hamilton forgets,” she said now, “his plan would rob our nation’s children of the pleasure of dropping spare pennies into the donation boxes at our national parks. While these pennies are almost literally drops in the proverbial bucket, they do nevertheless provide some degree of discretionary funds for our parks—”“Now, place your bets as to who that benefits,” spat the Secretary of State. “The very seat of government where Leslie Knope sits.” “Not true—” “Oh, if the shoe fits, wear it.” “Jefferson,” said Secretary Knope, through gritted teeth, “I thought you were on my side here.” He was, but if Amy had Jefferson pegged correctly (and she was pretty sure she did), this was less because he had strong feelings about pennies and more because he enjoyed antagonizing Secretary Hamilton even more than he enjoyed antagonizing Secretary Knope. Secretary Hamilton had also come to the meeting with binders, as was his wont. Amy opened his now, holding it over her face so she could pretend to read it (and therefore not have to look at Selina, who was by now clearly trying to eye-fuck the Vice President). She regretted this decision at once. Hamilton’s binder weighed as much as the very large bottle of scotch that was hidden in Amy's desk. She wished she was holding that instead. Or bourbon, or vodka. She wasn’t in a position to be picky. She passed Hamilton’s binder over her shoulder without looking to see who was taking it from her, or even if anyone was. A moment after it left her hands, she heard it land with a satisfying thump. “My toe!” shrieked Mike, which was even more satisfying. “Uh, our debts are paid, I’m afraid,” Jefferson drawled. “Excuse me. I believe I’ve been advocating for higher funding for the Department of the Interior since the day I swore my oath—”“You just want to move our money around.” Jefferson, seemingly realizing he was supposed to be nominally on Secretary Knope’s side in this, had now turned to Hamilton. “This financial plan is an outrageous demand—” Knope, again. “And it’s too many damn pages for any man to understand,” said Jefferson. “Or woman,” cut in Selina. “Honestly, Alex. This is…this is…you know literally no one read all of this, right? Or any of it?” “Excuse me, Madam President,” said Hamilton, puffing up a bit. “I merely wrote everything down far as I could see—”“Yes, it was long,” interrupted Knope. “Nevertheless, I persisted. It’s…admirably thorough, Secretary Hamilton.”“Thank you, Secretary Knope.”This was more in line with how Cabinet meetings usually went. Secretary Knope was disgustingly in love with her husband, whose name Amy could not, to this day, remember. But she and Hamilton were birds of a feather. The two of them inevitably sat together (they were sitting next to each other today, in fact) and it wasn’t hard to imagine her and Hamilton engaging in some sort of torrid affair—though this thought, too, was disgusting. Actually, Amy thought now, maybe it was hard to imagine such a thing. There would be so much talking, no one would ever get any deeds done. “Amy,” she heard, as if from a distance. “Amy!” “Ouch!” she spat, in response to Dan pinching her arm. “Look alive. The rest of us have to.” She scanned the table. Selina had just put on her best shut the fuck up smile. Jefferson looked pleased with himself, while Knope and Hamilton both just about had steam coming out their ears. “Thank you, Secretary Jefferson. Thank you, Secretary Knope. Okay, moving on—”“Leslie, that was a real nice declaration," said Hamilton. "Welcome to the present. We’re running a real nation, with real debts, and real feelings—”“The national debt has feelings?” came a smooth voice from the far end of the table. Hamilton ignored this. “Would you like to join the twenty-first century? Canada, Australia, Great Britain, Hong Kong, Finland, Denmark, Israel, Switzerland, the Netherlands—these are just some of the countries that have eliminated their lowest-denomination coinage. And I’ll just add on a note of personal interest to you, Secretary Jefferson, getting rid of the penny would put increased focus on the nickel.” Jefferson rolled his eyes, though Amy thought he secretly looked pleased. The day he sided with Hamilton in public, though—well, that would be the day Jonah Ryan said something intelligent. “What the hell does this even have to do with Monticello?” asked Knope. “If we withdraw the cent, then more is spent—merchants round in their favor; I doubt they’ll even waiver. How do you not get it? If we eliminate the penny drive, charities will only lose. You’d rather that than have them thrive?”“An economics lesson from a park ranger? Hey, Granger—” “Granger?” Amy muttered to herself. This reference went right over her head, until she heard Richard gleefully squeal something about Harry Potter, at which point she felt a prickle of pride at the fact that she had still never read those stupid books. “And another thing, Ms. Age of Enlightenment—”“Excuse me.” Selina now stood up and started banging on the table. “Knope, Jefferson, take a walk. Hamilton, take a walk. We’ll reconvene after a brief recess. Mr. Vice President?” “Ma’am?” “A word.” Selina slid out of the Cabinet room. A gray blob instantly shuffled to attention at Amy’s right, starting to push past her, but—“Thank you, Gary, but I won’t need you at the moment,” said Selina, smiling at the Vice President. “Mr. Burr, sir. Shall we retreat to the Oval Office?” Aaron Burr hummed a little tune as he walked past Amy, his visage—as always—serene.