Thomas Jefferson had called Alexander Hamilton an idiot plenty of times, along with a plethora of words that also insulted his intelligence. Did he believe them? Yes, yes he did. But Hamilton's stupidity had risen to new heights.

"The charge against me is a connection with one James Reynolds for purposes of improper speculation," James read out loud. They were seated at a table where just seconds before, James had burst in with his own copy of the Reynolds Pamphlet. Despite the fact that Thomas usually scoured for ammunition to use against Hamilton, he had missed this one. Truly a pity, since this was his strongest weapon yet.

"My real crime is an amorous connection with his wife, for a considerable time with his knowing consent."

"Damn," Thomas muttered. He had already known this, of course, in the ever-awkward meeting where Hamilton had given them far too much information than Thomas needed to know. But seeing the man put the words on paper, and so bluntly? He wasn't holding back.

"I had frequent meetings with her, most of them at my own house. Mrs. Hamilton with our children being absent on a visit to her father." James paused. "And I'm not going to read anymore, I believe you understand what just happened. This thing is ninety pages..."

Ninety pages!? "Stupid." He shook his head. "Completely stupid." Thomas had certainly done worse things but this was just stupid. People everywhere had spread rumors and whispers about him through the country. Even Hamilton himself had done some things to encourage them. But Thomas had simply laughed in their faces. He'd completely ignored them, didn't bat an eyelid when they were brought up, flashed his wealth and his power. Reminded everyone why he was a respectable guy who they could trust.

But this? This was just stupid.

"He's so stupid," Thomas echoed. "I've never seen anyone this stupid."

"Could you find a better word?" James asked mildly. His voice sounded as uninterested as it usually did, but no one could deny the surprise in his eyes as he looked down on the pamphlet.

"I just-why? Why would he do it?"

"Are you complaining?" James asked. It was a little frustrating that his best friend wasn't talking about what was the highlight of Thomas's year-no, his life. Then again, he probably didn't want to break down into a coughing fit.

"Of course not-just, why?" He leaped up from his chair and stared down at the pamphlet, almost jealously. "I've done things that are-"

James paused and gave him a long look.

"I-I'm not excusing his actions, of course," Thomas stammered, correcting himself. "But this is…ridiculous. He's flaunting it. He's proud of it!"

"His words spoke of shame," James pointed out.

"That's not how it sounded to me." A realization struck him. "And it may not sound like that to other people too!"

Now another truth slammed into Thomas-that his political rival had essentially torn his reputation limb from limb and dug himself into a hole that led to the center of the Earth. All he had to do was bury the entrance.

A childish glee lit up inside him. What were the papers saying? How was everyone reacting? John Adams had lowered the chances of Hamilton becoming president with his own disastrous administration, but there were still people out there who hung onto the loud mouth's every word. And they'd certainly heard of this.

A heavy weight was immediately lifted from Thomas's shoulders. He had nothing personal against Hamilton…okay, that wasn't exactly true. But their friction came from the fact that Hamilton simply wouldn't do as the president. It would be like handing the reins of a horse to a toddler. They'd crash in seconds.

Now, Thomas didn't have to worry about his beloved country being destroyed. They were completely safe…alright, so Hamilton probably thought Thomas was unfit to lead America, but no one was going to be listening to his opinion anyway.

"How do you feel?" he asked eagerly. As it was considered unprofessional to gloat, (since he would be judged…harshly) Thomas usually raced to his best friend in order to brag. Alright, so James usually had a dead look in his eyes that said quite clearly he was judging Thomas as well, but he liked to ignore that.

James's eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully. Thomas never understand why, but he noticed over the years James usually avoided insulting Hamilton himself. He said his financial plan was a problem, said he was very talkative, very unskilled, but never was Hamilton directly affronted. Maybe it was because of the fact that Hamilton and James used to friends, (something Thomas did not like to think about) but he'd thought that phase was over.

"…Satisfied," he said simply. He stared down at the floor with a meaningful look in his eyes. "All my life he's out written me. I wrote the Bill of Rights, most of the Constitution. Yet everyone always ran to him…it's just…nice to see his words betray him."

His words, Thomas noted. Not him. "I agree," he added anyway. "But I almost feel bad for him. It's just so…stupid." He sighed. "I think we all knew he was going to snap and say something wrong eventually but…this." He shook his head.

"I know," James replied. "I feel bad for his family. His poor wife…"

"Yes," Thomas said. "But we can fix that. We can turn the attention away from his family and onto him instead." He reached for a copy of the pamphlet and started to walk away.

James stared at him in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I don't think everyone has read this yet. I'm sure they will if they get some...support."

James rubbed the back of his neck. "I don't know…"

"We're not actually doing anything against him," Thomas pointed out. "We're just spreading what he did to himself."

James sighed and then reluctantly followed with another copy of the pamphlet. Thomas couldn't deny he was very excited to revel in his political rival's despair. Hopefully Hamilton himself would be there to watch.

But damn…he was so stupid.

Hope you enjoyed this funny one, because the majority of these are very angsty. This is going to be a seven part story. Next up is Burr. Thanks for reading.