I loved doing stuff like that. Admittedly, Jenny thought it was immature. But she would be humming a very different tune after I told her I was an officially certified influencer!

Hunter and I sat there smiling insincerely at each other until the silence became too loud for him. “This administration has great respect for the First Amendment. Great respect. I give you my word…”—he patted his heart—“no one in this administration will ever interfere with your right to write whatever you believe. Ever.” One, two, three. Here it comes. “However …

“By law the government of the United States has the absolute right…” He shook his head, then corrected himself. “Check that, it’s more than that.” Shaking his index finger to make sure I understood the importance of each word, he continued, “We have a constitutional and moral obligation to protect this country from anyone who would tear it apart. That goes all the way back to the Sedition Acts. That’s one reason Congress was given the power to regulate the public airways…”

I went into frozen-face mode, trying not to show any emotion. It was hard. But this was a direct threat.

He rambled on, “… times of crisis … spread propaganda … further inflame the division … unfair criticism … the Sedition Act … the Espionage Act…” It was a history lesson. Well taught, to be honest (wink, wink). He navigated through the long history of the federal government’s invoking emergency powers to achieve its objectives while limiting criticism. While eventually the salient parts of almost all of them were ruled unconstitutional by the Supreme Court, he told me that the administration was willing to take its chances, “especially given the current makeup of the court.”

He hit the word current hard, reminding me the Dems had threatened to add members to the Supreme Court to tip the balance to the left, but had backed off after the huge negative response. The implication was obvious. Wrightman’s spine was not going to be bent by the complaints of a hundred million people.

As he continued this lecture, he stood and walked around his desk until he was behind me. Another power move. “Cher,” I instructed, “turn around, please.” Mighty Chair turned; its GPS system locked on him and followed as he moved. I turned up the motor volume, so each step he took was followed by a brief and, I hoped, disconcerting whir.

He wet his lips and looked down at me. “Look, Rollie, we know the press isn’t on our side. That’s okay, that’s your job. But we also have a job to do and we intend to do it…” His tone was battlefield firm. “Do you know why Wrightman was elected?”

(Here’s a second tip for future journalists. When the person you are interviewing asks you a rhetorical question, the best way to answer is to wrap the question in your own words and hand it back. Regift it.) I responded. “Why was Wrightman elected?”

“He promised the American people three things. One…” He held up his index finger like a magician displaying his deck of cards. “We are going to make people proud to be American again. Two.” He added his middle finger and pointed the V right at me.