3.07 The Indians in the Lobby POTUS: Were we talking about something? CJ: I don’t know, sir, when I came in here back in the late fifties there was a purpose to it, there was a purpose to it but one thing led to another and I blacked out, I mean I can hang in there with the best of them sir, but somewhere in the discussion of Anise and Coriander and the other 15 spices you like to use to cook a turkey, I simply lost consciousness. POTUS: Y’know that line you’re not s’posed to cross with the President? CJ: I’m coming up on it? POTUS: Oh, no, look behind you. CJ: Indians on the day before Thanksgiving.  Wow.  Ironic. CJ: This is gonna have something to do with us screwing you out of all your land, isn’t it? MAGGIE: Yeah. JOSH: Did you hear about the two Indians in the lobby? LEO: One of ‘em wants to become a Rabbi? DONNA: You could get a C141 leaving Andrews Air Force Base but there’s a problem with that, too. JOSH: It would trigger a Congressional investigation? DONNA: Okay, two problems. DONNA: I’m telling your mother you forgot where she lives! JOSH: You’re the girl I made fun of in elementary school, y’know that? DONNA: You don’t have any special secret flights to Palm Beach today, do you? SAM: Yeah, but you’ll have to change planes in Atlanta. JOSH: I’m not an expert, but wouldn’t we have a better chance of getting re-elected if we could say there were four million FEWER poor people? Oh yeah, I am an expert. SAM: What should I call you? BERNICE: Bernice is fine. SAM: How will you know I’m your buddy? BERNICE: I’m okay being in the dark on that one. JOSH: It’s problematic when other people make my argument for me. SAM: Three statisticians go deer hunting.  The first one misses ten feet to the left, the second one misses ten feet to the right, the third one jumps up and down and says “I hit it!”  (Pause) You’ve gotta love a guy who comes up with a statistical analysis joke.  Certainly would if you’d’a let me call you Bernie. JOSH: Well, I suppose there’s a time for scruples and a time for…y’know… LEO: Not? TOBY: I should be able to at least fire paintballs at you while you do that. POTUS: I’ve got polling numbers. ABBY: Which say Camp David is fine. POTUS: J’accuse! J’accuse, mon petit fromage! ABBY: You speak four languages, how come none of them is French? POTUS: Nothing’s wrong with my French. ABBY: You just called me “your little cheese!” POTUS: That’s right.