First fiction from Huffington (The Fourth Instinct, 1994, etc.), the frisky doyenne of the political right, who now offers her wacky take on one-night rentals of the Lincoln Bedroom. Huffington hails from the Adriatic cradle of democracy, but beware of Greeks bearing gripes. The author plays rough. In her imaginary weekend in the Executive Mansion, she meets and dumps on every player in the Democrats' campaign-contribution fiasco, from the Clintons and the Veep (in the guise of an immovable mannequin) to Camille and the many Chinese Contributors. There are strange appearances by Don Fowler, Mark Russell, and, as if for the sake of thoroughness, Bill Gates and Maya Angelou. Huffington mocks the physical statures of Stephanopouios and Shalala, Reich and Reno. (There's no mention of the bulk of Limbaugh; well, that's been done.) Speaker Newt, to be fair, gets his due in the testy farrago. Corporate bigwigs, too, are treated harshly (for supporting the wrong party?). The author gleefully drops names, only to stomp on them. The one truly sapient creature in the White House is First Cat Socks, who acts as chores to the madness. There are, to be sure, some palpable hits--as in the observation that Clinton is really ""two very specific people: Nixon and Elvis""--but these are like raisins in the mush of Huffington's animus. Appended descriptions of some of the principal players and assorted folk who have been reported actually to have sojourned in the White House are, being rooted in reality, of some interest. The text itself is fancifully patterned after the works of Lewis Carroll--with pen-and-ink illustrations giving us Arianna-Alice as if dressed by Sir John Tenniel. More wicked than jolly, here's a faux-savvy political attack-with a blunderbuss--on a sitting lame duck.