One evening, all Latin expressions gathered at the Taverna to discuss Quid Pro Quo’s phenomenal rise in popularity thanks to impeachment hearings in the United States.

A wave of resentment ran through Ad Hoc, Pro Bono, Vice Versa, Et Cetera etc., who considered themselves frontrunners in Latinism sweepstakes before Quid Pro Quo had sprinted ahead in recent weeks.

“Well, let’s get real,” said Bona Fide, who was always truthful. “Quid Pro Quo is being promoted by no less a person than the U.S President, even though Pro Bono is available for free.”

Hearing this, Pro Bono, who was selfless and always unquestioningly volunteering herself, asked Prima Facie if this was indeed the case.

“On the face of it, yes,” confirmed Prima Facie. “Although the President likes Ad Hoc, Quid Pro Quo is his current favorite.”

“What about me? I am always bringing up the rear… though I am used so often,” complained Et Cetera.

“At least you and your comrades Nota Bena and Post Script are made of two words, unlike that useless Addendum,” consoled Alter Ego, looking over his shoulder at his shadow.

“Quid Pro Quo is made of three words!” pointed out Carpe Diem, groaning, “I should have seized the moment when the poet Horace wrote me into his Odes!”

“Actually, we should have all gone to war!” yelled Casus Belli, who was always in a confrontational mood.

“We would have backed you!” shouted twins De Facto and De Jure.

“Hear! Hear!” roared Vox Populi.

Et Cetera was comforted, but he knew he could never become the favorite; he’d always be an afterthought.

“Well, fair is foul and foul is fair,” explained Vice Versa, an opportunist who flip-flopped often.

“Indeed, I’m sorry about our fate. If y’all want I am happy to take the blame,” offered the always-apologetic Mea Culpa.

“Let’s just stay rooted to the ground. Our day will come!” advised Terra Firma.

“No, let’s keep on rolling and rolling and…” pressed Ad Infinitum.

“The bird walked to the toy store,” said Non Sequitur.

Alma Mater, who was nourishing her children Alumnus and Alumna, watched the agitated Latinisms with Sotto Voce, who was usually quiet and spoke only occasionally in a low voice.

“Too bad everyone thinks the President has flipped for Quid Pro Quo,” she whispered. “No one believes me but I’ve seen him canoodling with that sexy wench In Flagrante Delicto.”

Suddenly they heard someone chuckling in the shadows. It was Non Compos Mentis, giggling with the knowledge that she, not In Flagrante Delicto, was the President’s first love. Its most critical condition that this piece is shared widely, says Sine qua non.