“Honey, I have no choice,” Romney told his wife Ann when she pleaded with him to come to bed at 2 AM. “I’ve got to ace this thing to have any shot at all. I still haven’t memorized the state-by-state unemployment stats.”
Romney and a dozen aides camped out in their pajamas in the finished basement of one of Romney’s seven mansions. At about 4:30, they sent out for pizza and, becoming giddy from sleep deprivation, had a hysteria-fueled pillow fight before getting back to the briefing books.
At one point, Ohio Senator Rob Portman, who portrays Obama in Romney’s debate rehearsals, nodded off and had to be doused with a bucket of ice water.
Dr. Seymour Henshaw, Romney’s personal physician, said he planned to administer a shot of adrenalin directly into the candidate’s heart just before he takes the stage “to ensure he is totally alert and up to snuff.”
Meanwhile, both camps issued final statements to the media in the crucial race to lower expectations for their candidate.
Romney proclaimed, “I have no chance whatever against the fiendishly brilliant, super-articulate Barack Obama. He’s gonna mop the floor with me. Why I’m even showing up I have no idea.”
Obama responded, “Nonsense. The silver-tongued Mitt Romney is the best debater who ever lived. I just don’t see how I can score a single point against his airtight logic and the devastating ad-lib zingers he’s been rehearsing for months.”