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Annie Gunn came bounding into The Murphy Report's office with a big smile on her face. Managing Editor Scott Steinbeck looked up from his computer. Annie is a sight for sore eyes.

"Look what I have!"

She handed Steinbeck a piece of paper. It looked like somebody had scribbled his or her name, but Steinbeck couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"What is it or who is it?"

"It's Donald Trump's autograph."

"How did you get it?"

"You know that Dr. Polyphemous Pangloss is my personal gynecologist. Whenever I'm having a female problem, he visits me at my home and examines me. After he has probed and probed, I feel much better."

"I don't doubt for a second that he has the magic touch. Did he arrange a meeting with Trump?" 

"Yes. Can you believe it? Polyphemous escorted me into the president's room. Trump was in his bed, but he was groggy and kept mumbling, 'Hope! Hope! Hope!'"

"Hope Hicks?"

"I guess. I really don't know. I looked at Polyphemous and he shrugged his shoulders. I had a notepad with me and I said, 'Mr. President, may I have your autograph?' He nodded and I gave him my pen and notepad. He signed it and I said, 'Thank-you, Mr. President.' I looked at Polyphemous and he signaled me with his thumb that we should leave. The president wasn't in a state of mind to receive visitors. How much do you think it's worth?"

"Let's imagine this autographed piece of paper is a million-dollar bill. How much would the bill be worth?"

"A million dollars. Obviously."

"So I take this million-dollar bill and tear it half, then in quarters, then in eighths and keep tearing it again and again and again until I let it flutter to the floor. How much is your million-dollar bill worth now?"

"Nothing, you son-of-a-bitch. I was going to pocket a small fortune and you've ruined everything with your cynicism. I was so excited. What am I going to do now?"

"Call Dr. Pangloss. I'm sure he can bring the moment to its climax."

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