Van Dyke: If our children can buy pornography on any street corner for five dollars, isn't that too high a price to pay for free speech?
Bartlet: No.
Van Dyke: Really?
Bartlet: On the other hand, I do think that five dollars is too high a price to pay for pornography.
C.J.: Why don't we all sit down?
Bartlet: No. Let's not, C.J. These people won't be staying that long. May I have some coffee, Mr. Lewis? Al, how many times have I asked you to denounce the practices of a fringe group that calls itself The Lambs of God?
Caldwell: Sir, it's not up to me to--
Bartlet: Crap. It is up to you, Al. You know, my wife, Abbey, she never wants me to do anything while I'm upset. [a staffer hands him coffee] Thank you, Mr. Lewis. Twenty-eight years ago, I come home from a very bad day at the State House. I tell Abbey I'm going out for a drive. I get in the station wagon and put it in reverse, and pull out of the garage full speed. [Leo and Sam appear in the doorway and quietly enter into the room.] Except I forgot to open the garage door. Abbey told me to not drive while I was upset and she was right. She was right yesterday when she told me not to get on that damn bicycle while I was upset, but I did it anyway, and I guess I was just about as angry as I've ever been in my life. It seems my granddaughter, Annie, had given an interview in one of the teen magazines. And somewhere between movie stars and makeup tips, she talked about her feelings on a woman's right to choose. Now Annie, all of 12, has always been precocious, but she's got a good head on her shoulders and I like it when she uses it. So I couldn't understand it when her mother called me in tears yesterday. I said, "Elizabeth, what's wrong?" She said, "It's Annie." Now, I love my family and I've read my Bible from cover to cover. So I want you to tell me from what part of the Holy Scripture do you suppose the Lambs of God drew their Divine inspiration when they sent my 12 year-old granddaughter a Raggedy Ann doll with a knife stuck through its throat? [pause] You'll denounce these people, Al. You'll do it publicly. And until you do, you can all get your fat asses out of my White House. C.J., show these people out.
Mary Marsh: I believe we can find the door.
Bartlet: Find it now.

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