Welcome back to The Best & The Brightest, I’m Tara Palmeri.

Thanks to everyone who attended Puck’s second-annual First Amendment soiree at the French ambassador’s residence. It was a beautiful night to fête the iconic Andrea Mitchell, who was celebrated by so many denizens of the Puck Cinematic Universe, including Attorney General Merrick Garland, Secretary Miguel Cardona, Ambassador Laurent Bili, Sen. Chris Murphy, Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse, Rohit Chopra, Wolf Blitzer, Abby Phillip, Kasie Hunt, Mike Donilon, Symone Sanders, Terry McAuliffe, Tammy Haddad, Joe Crowley, Debbie Dingell, Ian Sams, Olivia Dalton, Holly Harris, Luke Russert, Maureen Orth, Carrie Budoff Brown, Hallie Jackson, Scott Mulhauser, Ron Bonjean, Jesse Rodriguez, Michael LaRosa, and many more.

Tonight, I’m serving up the latest on the Katie Britt rebuttal blame game, Joe Manchin’s latest indecision, Chris Christie’s footsie with No Labels, and a behind-the-scenes look into an increasingly uncomfortable Senate leadership race.

But first….

• Trump veepstakes chatter: A stray comment on the Mar-a-Lago patio, wherein Donald Trump was seen pointing at Rep. Byron Donalds and referring to him as “the next governor of Florida,” is being interpreted by some as evidence that the rising Republican star isn’t on Trump’s shortlist for vice president. Donalds represents Southwest Florida, of course, and there’s a constitutional prohibition against a presidential candidate and their running mate being from the same state. But anything is possible: A very close Trump ally once explained to me how they could theoretically relocate the two-term congressman out of state, to Pennsylvania, say, so that he could run with Trump.

  Theoretically, Trump could himself relocate to New York or New Jersey. “That’s how he sees you,” said a person who understands Trump’s thinking, referring to the “next governor” comment. “That means you’re not V.P.” Another Trump ally countered, “it doesn’t rule him in or out from consideration.” The comment also likely fuels Donalds’ rivalry with Rep. Matt Gaetz, who was recently fêted at Mar-a-Lago as Statesman of the Year by the Palm Beach County Republican Party, and who Trump has also suggested could be a great candidate to replace Gov. Ron DeSantis.

• The TikTok gold rush: These days, it seems like all of K Street is either getting paid by TikTok or afraid they’ll be blacklisted for taking their money. Among those in the former camp is Michael Meehan, Sen. Maria Cantwell’s former chief of staff, who Politico’s Daniel Lippman reported has been retained by TikTok. Everyone is waiting to see his filing to learn just how much he’s charging for his services—especially as Cantwell, the chair of the Commerce, Science, and Transportation committee, mulls whether to offer amendments to the TikTok bill or try again to push through her own legislation, which failed to get attached to the defense bill last year.

  Of course, as Politico reports, there are a number of other former Cantwell staffers who either work directly for TikTok or were retained for their services, including her former deputy chief of staff Rosemary Gutierrez. When asked if she was aware that a number of her former aides are now lobbying on behalf of TikTok, Cantwell laughed, “I didn’t know that.” Right…

• Escape from D.C.: It’s been a season of missed opportunities for House Republicans. They lost the Long Island House special election, Ken Buck’s resignation further reduced the Republicans’ slim margin, and a California Republican candidate failed to capture a majority of the vote in the primary race to replace McCarthy, which means the seat will remain vacant for another two months. But for some, last weekend’s conference retreat was also a missed opportunity—literally: Attendance was abysmal.

  The retreat typically serves as a beginning-of-the-year strategy summit at which members discuss the most potent legislation to leverage against Democrats in the fall, debate which bills can be passed on or killed before summer recess, and share updates on races and the political landscape writ large. But most of all, it’s a time for members to get their messaging on the same page—which has clearly not happened. “No matter how hard they try to make a message of unity, the basic approach is that it’s every man for themselves, and that there is no unifying message that the conference is going to have for their candidates and their incumbents,” a G.O.P. consultant with close ties to the conference told me.

  One caveat to the criticism of the retreat: I’m told that the members who did show up are enthusiastic about the fall campaign, there was good energy in the rooms, and members felt their face time with Mike Johnson was well spent—he’s growing on members personally.

• Republican infighting is off the chain: Matt Gaetz skipped the retreat to campaign against Texas pragmatist Tony Gonzales, a handful of House Republicans are fundraising to oust Virginia Republican Bob Good, and this week, a hot mic caught Foreign Affairs Chairman Michael McCaul telling Darrell Issa to go eff himself. (McCaul later apologized.) While rivalries and disagreements in politics are common, this level of demonstrative personal enmity is not normal. And I rarely ever hear House Democrats contemplating these sorts of aggressive tactics against their own.

  In this light, perhaps it’s no coincidence that the D.C.C.C. once again overpowered the N.R.C.C. in fundraising in February, with House Dems pulling in $14.5 million to the Republicans’ $8 million. The House Dems are currently sitting on $59 million in cash on hand, compared to the Republicans’ $45 million. That cash-on-hand sum will be a key figure as the cycle progresses—the aim of most campaign committees is to save as much money as possible for the national TV wars in battleground districts.

• Bigger picture: Republicans can’t seem to get out of their own way, and with less than eight months until Election Day, some in the party are getting worried. But there is a school of thought in both parties that none of this may matter, given that the current congressional map still mostly benefits Republicans, and how unpredictable Trump’s political coattails are for down-ballot candidates. (Comparisons to expectations for a Democratic wave in 2016 are still on many minds…) Despite all that, it sure seems that among all the other maladies Republicans are facing, the most contagious right now is low morale.

Britt, a national fixation ever since her much-derided rebuttal to Joe Biden’s State of the Union address, was radiant, and we chatted briefly, until a few fans at the bar interrupted to compliment her for being caricatured on Saturday Night Live by one of the most beautiful women in the world, Scarlett Johansson. She laughed it off, and has been taking it in stride, recently joking that her micro-celebrity has its benefits: the Capitol Hill Police now wave her through security.

Quietly, however, people who have known Britt for many years are still perplexed by how such an ostensibly savvy operator—a campaign-turned-Senate aide who quickly became chief of staff in Shelby’s office—botched the delivery of a potentially career-accelerating speech. In D.C., of course, confusion has been eclipsed by the rich tradition of nasty finger-pointing, in this case at the staff and the highly paid consultants who clearly overcoached her, breathy voice and all. (This isn’t so unusual: During my brief career in network news, I was encouraged to speak in the same manner, as are many women, apparently.)

But even the player haters are having a difficult time apportioning blame. Everyone knows that Mike Shields and Katie Walsh are Britt’s consultants, but they did not prepare her for the speech. Mitch McConnell and Mike Johnson obviously reviewed her script, but they did not stand in during a dress rehearsal. In fact, everyone seems to be denying that they were physically in Alabama for that advance work. (It’s hard to get a direct flight…) McConnell’s top aide, David Popp, who has coached former SOTU responders, was down in Montgomery, but nothing is known beyond that and he did not respond to a request for comment.

Brett O’Donnell, the go-to prepper for Republicans in need of a personality tune-up ahead of a big debate or speech, is another name that gets mentioned in sotto voce conversations about the Britt rebuttal. O’Donnell is a Mark McKinnon protégé who got his start in the Bush years, worked with John McCain in 2008, and then vaulted into the spotlight after helping Michele Bachmann with her standout debate performances in the 2012 cycle. She did so well, in fact, that he was brought in to prepare Romney ahead of his first debate against Obama. Most recently, O’Donnell worked with Ron DeSantis during the primary—helping humanize him by toning down the head bobs and reminding him to smile every now and then. O’Donnell didn’t have much to work with, but many credit him with DeSantis’ notable improvements on the stage.

Anyway, O’Donnell may have seemed like a convenient foil, but I’m told that he wasn’t in Alabama, either, nor was he directly involved in coaching Britt—not even over Zoom. Sure, he was involved with surrogate outreach and sending talking points to the press, which probably helped fuel speculation about his role in the prep. But this wasn’t on him. As for Katie’s allies, they’re being classy, refusing to comment about who exactly was in her ear, thereby politely letting the candidate take responsibility—a rarity in this town.

But one person is still playing footsie with the chaotic organization: Chris Christie, governor of the green room. He’s certainly in need of a platform, a few billionaire patrons, and more press attention. “When Geoff Duncan tells you no, what do you do? Christie is the only one who hasn’t officially said no,” said a source with knowledge of the conversations. “They’re just begging him and saying they’ll do anything. ‘Any amount you want, we’ll try to get whatever running mate you prefer.’” During a podcast taping with David Axelrod this week, Christie said he “wouldn’t preclude anything at this point” and that he will “do whatever I can do to try to make sure that the country doesn’t go through the misery of a second Trump term.” (Many assume his entry would directly facilitate that second Trump term, but…)

Of course, it’s hard to exit gracefully after a lifetime in the spotlight. Since ending his long flirtation with No Labels, Manchin has griped privately that the group was disorganized. (Some wonder, however, if he is simply pissed that No Labels never envisioned him atop a ticket.) His donor-enticing “listening tour” is over, too. But somehow, the news cycles will live on. The latest: I’ve heard from a source close to Manchin that he’s considering running for Senate again as an independent, and he has until August to decide. That’s approximately six more news cycles of “Manchin on the fence.”

Manchin told CNN’s Manu Raju last week that he is unlikely to make a late entry, after declaring his intention to retire, but that anything is possible. (Manchin has discussed the idea with Chuck Schumer, Raju reports.) Nevertheless, the long-shot prospect is coming into focus after wacko coal magnate Don Blankenship, who lost a Senate race as a Republican in 2018 and spent a year in prison in connection with a mining tragedy that took the lives of 29 men, filed papers to run as a Democrat. (He is also the originator of the memorable cognomen “Cocaine Mitch.”)

The thinking goes like this: now that Blankenship is in the mix, it’s possible that he could siphon votes from popular Republican governor Jim Justice, who’s also running to replace Manchin. A source close to Manchin said their camp could envision a scenario in which the senator jumps back into the race if it looks like Justice and Blankenship are essentially splitting the vote, thereby opening up an independent lane. The source added that the Senate Majority PAC and the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee have allotted cash in case Manchin dives in. (Some cash is always held on standby, just in case.)

Republicans are already fantasizing about Justice’s arrival on the Senate floor, a bit like how Democrats got carried away imagining John Fetterman marking up legislation in a hoodie. Justice is a particularly rotund half-billionaire who has trouble walking but insists on traveling with his English bulldog, Babydog, and a personal steel stool to lean on when he’s giving speeches.

In the meantime, I’m sure Manchin’s protracted Hamlet-on-the-Potomac act will require many more news cycles. “He’s never met a decision he hasn’t changed his mind about,” said a senior senate source. But here’s the cold water: Trump will romp in West Virginia, where he beat Biden by 39 points in 2020, boosting the already popular Justice, who really doesn’t need boosting. That’s the sole reason that Manchin stood down. And Manchin is more likely to pull votes from Blankenship than from Justice. So, just like No Labels, this is all a fever dream.

To wit: Joni Ernst, who is running for Senate Republican Conference chair, the number three position, has made known her displeasure that Tom Cotton didn’t call and give her a heads-up before throwing his own hat in the ring. What she didn’t reveal publicly, but has whined about privately, is that the two are so close that she has literally babysat his children. “Senator and Mrs. Cotton consider Senator Ernst a friend, and he values her as a colleague,” said a source familiar.

But while Ernst is next in line for the post, she doesn’t have the natural following of Cotton, nor his ultra-conservative bona fides. She voted in favor of gay marriage, the Safer Communities Act gun bill, and helped negotiate the Violence Against Women Act—all commendable legislation, but sadly not to the taste of the increasingly conservative conference. Cotton, who is surprisingly charming in his own way, has expansive relationships within the conference, from the J.D. Vance MAGA-heads to his bestie Susan Collins. “I don’t think Joni has a path forward, [and] that’s why she’s so angry and frustrated,” said a former top Senate aide.

The one thing going for Ernst: if Trump were to win the presidency, Cotton would be poised to enter his cabinet (SecDef, director of the C.I.A., whatever). So there’s an argument to be made that Cotton is just hedging his bets by running for leadership, and if he wins the conference will have to hold another vote for number three.