Flanked by Cindy and Sarah, who've been programmed to smile and nod, with Rockette-like precision, in sync with each of John McCain's boasts, promises and wild accusations, the threesome looks less like a viable political team than a Vegas headliner and his two back-ups.
Which of us wouldn't delight in getting to see, "John McCain and the Attendants?"
With little tweaking, McCain's crankiness could be framed into an diva-like, abusive husband, sure to hit home with all battering men. He'd poke fun at himself for the disdainful looks he can't help throwing at Cindy, becoming sheepish when comparing their on-demand pecks to the passionate Al and Tipper Gore kiss, winning over the audience with self-deprecating jokes about his loss of sexual appetite. Out-of-work Sonny & Cher writers may still have dysfunctional couple material in their joke files.
Cindy's heiress background provides a fertile area for pre-nup jokes, and she'd wow the audience by admitting, with the right mix of pride and embarrassment, what she spends on homes, staff, clothing, jewelry, hair, make-up, etc. Younger, second wives will howl at her cosmetic surgery references and drag their "starting to lose it" husbands to the show after stopping to pick up a diamond tennis bracelet from the hotel's jewelry shop.
Sarah's character -- soccer mom turned mayor, then governor, aspiring to become the vice-president of the United States while stoically embracing the challenges presented by her family -- will go over with former beauty pageant hopefuls and all women unable to string together two intelligible sentences in the absence of talking points. She will be a role model for parents of pregnant teenagers who drop out of high school. Think Roseanne meets Hillary Clinton.
Hecklers will be deftly handled by the First Dude.