“Excuse me, before you go in to the office I need to ask you some questions.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Agent Orange. And you are?”

“Bert Husk. I work for the press office.”

“Great. As you may be aware, the fake news media who are all monsters and serial killers are spreading fake news about so-called leaks coming from the White House.”

“I heard about that.”

“Now, we know that there are no leaks coming from the White House, so we are now investigating the leaks coming from the White House.”

“What now?’

“The media said there are leaks; the media lies; therefore, there are no leaks.”

“I followed that part.”

“So now we’re going to find out who the traitors and rats that are leaking are.”

“Right, that second part was where I got lost.”

“Are you going to make this difficult, Mr. Husk?”

“I’m just trying to figure out what’s happening.”

“As is the President, sir. He will not rest until he finds whoever’s responsible for the leaks that don’t exist.”

“Okay, I’m just going to agree with you for the sake of expediency.”

“Wonderful. The Trump Administration looks forward to winning many battles that way. I’m going to need your phone.”

“You want my phone?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Uh, sure. Here.”

“Mr. Husk, this is not your phone.”

“Of course it is.”

“A pink Motorola Razr?”

“Trustworthy.”

“You’re sure this isn’t a burner phone?”

“Burner? I don’t know what that means.”

“Sir, please give me your real phone.”

“That is my real phone. I’m a bit of a hipster.”

“There’s no battery in it.”

“A hipster who doesn’t want to talk to anyone.”

“Mr. Husk.”

“Fine, here.”

“No.”

“That’s my phone.”

“This is a child’s toy shaped like a phone, sir. It’s filled with candy.”

“No, those are apps.”

“Sir.”

“Ring! Oh, that’s my phone. It might be my mother, who is very sick. Ring!”

“Stop it, sir.”

“Ring!”

“You’re not even making the noise; you’re just saying ‘ring.'”

“Nooo.”

“Please, sir. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”

“Okay.”

“This is a piece of paper with a phone drawn on it. Mr. Husk, do I need to call the Secret Service?”

“No, no, no. Here.”

“Can you unlock it for me, sir?”

“There you go.”

“I’m just going to open your messages. Uh-huh. Mr. Husk, why are you having a conversation with a contact called NYTIMES?”

“Oh. Well, see: that’s actually my girlfriend. Nyt Imes. She’s Peruvian-Icelandic.”

“Right. And what about Jake Tapper?”

“Okay, that’s not the Jake Tapper you’re thinking of. That’s my buddy Jake, and we are both fans of the 80’s arcade game, Tapper. Like I said: bit of a hipster.”

“If you say so. Mr. Husk, will you come with me?”

“Oh, God, am I under arrest.”

“Arrest? No. Can you keep a secret?”

“Obviously not.”

“I’m gonna tell you anyway. I’m headhunting for Simon & Schuster. You wanna book deal?”

“Everyone else seems to have one.”

“Great! Here’s your phone back. Tell Sean I say hi.”

“Hail Hydra.”

“Hail Hydra.”