Welcome to the Grey House, Ms. President

We're back at the Grey House. It hasn't changed much since last Mellie left it.

Lucky for Fitz, she's still not home. Fitz subtly hopes her limo wrecks while he's showing the hot-bodied Afroasian president around the Grey House.

In the Grey House, they introduce a new elephantfish into the tank. Like Cyrus, the fish is male. Also like Cyrus, the fish is gay. They're calling him Ambruso.

Fitz and Ophir get home, drunk and arm-in-arm. They attract a LOT of attention. With that said, it's a good thing Fitz doesn't share the Grey House with leftist relatives. He's pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten elected if the public thought he had any to speak of.

Ambruso's used to the temperature of the tank. The staff release him. He swims around the tank. Cyrus and Novak rub noses with him.

Ophir notices the tank. She gawks, stares into it, and uses it to codepend how drunk she is, by staring into the tank water's fluidity.

WE'LL BE LUCKY IF SHE DOESN'T TAP ON THE GLASS, Novak mutters.

"These are SO interesting," Ophir gawks. "What are they?"

Fitz moves the furniture in the Oval Office. "They're Beene's elephantfishes. They're all male...and gay. They're also telepathic; so don't get scared if you hear voices."

"Oh, I'll try not to. I'd be the shame of my country's military if I was afraid of anything!"

THAT'S FUNNY, Ambruso thinks, BECAUSE RIGHT NOW YOU LOOK LIKE YOU'D PEE IN YOUR LEOTARD IF AN ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS MEETING THREATENED TO DOOM YOU TO LIFE IN THERAPY.

Ophir screams. Fitz drops what she's doing, and attends to her.

AH, STRAIGHT MEN, Ambruso complains. WHAT DO THEY SEE IN THESE WOMEN?

I DON'T KNOW, Cyrus thinks. BUT I'VE SEEN ONE DO CRAZY THINGS BECAUSE OF IT.

"As you can see," Fitz tells her, "Cyrus is my chief of staff, and these are his lovers. And it seems that," he studies Ambruso, "these elephantfishes are not as monogamous as I once thought."

HUMANS ARE MONOGAMOUS? HOW COME I CAN'T TELL?

I'VE SEEN CICHLIDS HAVE LESS IMPRESSIVE ORGIES, Ambruso recounts, THAN THE HUMAN CAPTORS WHO BROUGHT ME HERE FROM LAKE TANGANYIKA TALK ABOUT SEX...WITH THEIR FEMALES. AND I WAS ALMOST CONVINCED THAT HUMAN MALE ZOO WORKERS WERE GAY, LIKE US...

"Don't take anything they say personally," Fitz continues. "Cyrus is my chief of staff; he's supposed to be picky about who comes in here."

After Ophir's panic attack, she and Fitz are embraced...apparently as lovers. For is own sake, Fitz sure hopes there aren't any reporters eavesdropping outside the Grey House windows.

"We should sit," Ophir suggests, "and talk about our countries' affairs."

"We should," Fitz agrees, "but not over liquor...whatever we do."

Novak chuckles. LOOKS LIKE THOSE AREN'T THE ONLY AFFAIRS THEY'VE GOT TO DISCUSS.

They sit in the parlor. Their chairs are close...but not too close.

"So," Fitz opens, "what do your people think about us? I've been told that they're a lot more worried about their own survival."

"I do what I can to protect them," Ophir admits. "But you know, I'm no Yahweh."

"You're no Allah either. And I'm sure that gets the men who didn't vote for you."

"I still don't understand why." She flaps her hair, and adjusts the top of her leotard. "Most liberal men prefer me."

"Yeah," Fitz stares at her chest, "I can see why."

BETTER RE-CALIBRATE YOUR PUPILS BEFORE THE FIRST LADY GETS HOME, BUB.

WATCH YOUR MIND, Cyrus snaps. HE MAY BE BADLY BEHAVED, BUT HE'S ALSO MY BOSS.

Ophir shields her eyes. "The sunlight's really bright out there. Care to help an old woman out?"

"Of course." Fitz yells for his pages. He yells again. They don't come.

Fitz turns to the fish tank. "Are any of you, by chance, telekinetic, as well as telepathic?"

They all tread water, and stare at him.

Fitz sighs, and stands. "Fine. For one of THE rarest moments in Grey House history, I'll accommodate for the Afroasian president's retinas myself."

The President crosses the room, and approaches the windows. He gets to work closing their curtains.

WE AREN'T TELEKINETIC, Novak thinks softly, RIGHT?

WHAT HE DOESN'T KNOW, Cyrus reveals, WON'T HURT HIM. AND IT WON'T TEMPT HIS CRITICS TO EXPLOIT US FOR OUR ABILITIES.

INTERESTING, Ambruso thinks. DIDN'T KNOW HUMANS WERE SO AMBITIOUS ABOUT FLEXIBLE NOSES...OR ELECTRICITY GENERATION.

YOU, Cyrus suggests, might NOT BE SO WRONG ABOUT THAT LAST ONE...

With that, Ambruso stops generating electricity between his fins, and subtly swims to the back of the tank...

Ophir sits, and checks her nails. They're reflective. She loves this nail polish they're selling at the airport in Marseilles. It's really...

She's sees something in one of her nails' reflections. It looks sinister.

She screams, and charges Fitz. Fitz freezes like a deer in the headlights. The elephantfish are tempted to slow things down with their minds, to make it just like a movie...but decide against it.

Ophir gets to Fitz, hugs him, and hits the floor with her bare arms around him. Meanwhile, an RPG flies through the window, breaks it, and gets about halfway across the parlor before exploding.

Ophir's on top of Fitz. Fitz's nose has somehow ended up stuck in her rack. On the upside, his most secret fantasy about the Afroasian president has come true. On the downside, if this visit wasn't going to be all over Fox News before...it is now.

GOOD THING THAT WASN'T ATOMIC, Novak admits. WE'D ALL BE FISH OUT OF WATER.

LIKE SOME OF THOSE KILLIFISHES BACK HOME, Ambruso recalls. EXCEPT AT LEAST THEY can SURVIVE OUT OF WATER.

Right on cue, Mellie gets home. She walks right into the parlor...and sees the mess.

Moments pass. She looks around. She sees Ophir...and what she's wearing. And she sees her husband, with his face pinned beneath her rack...and him not crawling out from beneath it right away.

"Hi, Mel," Fitz says, with a boobs-muffled voice. "How are threads stores in Lincoln City these days?"

Mellie doesn't move. She's still processing the excess of what she's come home to...and seeing her husband with another woman will only add to the amount of time she'll take to sober up.

"Your wife doesn't seem very talkative," Ophir admits. "Funny; she's like a nuclear filibuster whenever we see her on TV back in my country."

Mellie still stands still. She'd look like the Statue of Liberty...if only she held a torch high in her other hand.

WELL, Cyrus admits, THE PRESIDENT'S IN TROUBLE NOW. NOT SURE WHAT KIND...BUT THIS IS DEFINITELY POPE-WORTHY.

POPE? Ambruso seems confused.

YOU'LL SEE, Novak assures the new guy. IF YOU'RE LUCKY...OR ELSE, not SO LUCKY...