Thoughts On The Dead

Musings on the Most Ridiculous Band I Can't Stop Listening To

Tag: donald trump (page 2 of 20)

Another Set Of Lists, One Noticeably Longer Than The Other

Who Has Basketball Head Talked Shit About?

  • Mexico.
  • Canada.
  • Australia.
  • Germany.
  • Great Britain.
  • NATO.
  • Disabled reporters.
  • Muslims.
  • Blacks.
  • Transgendered troops.
  • American POW’s.
  • Morning teevee anchors.
  • The press.
  • The leaders of his own political party.
  • His staff.
  • The FBI.
  • The CIA.
  • The state of New Hampshire.
  • Numerous comediennes.
  • The White House itself.

Who Has Basketball Head Not Talked Shit About?

  • Vladimir Putin.
  • Fucking Nazis.

A Partial Transcript Of Donald Trump’s Press Availability, 8/10/17

“Great, yes, the press. Wonderful. I have done more press conferences than any other president in history. Acosta, did you have lunch?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What did you have?”

“Fish sandwich.”

“Have you ever had a fish sandwich like that? That’s all Ivanka, by the way. She’s always saying to me, ‘Don’t forget the fish sandwiches, Dad.’ Sharp girl. Much better looking the Obama girls. And, you know. You know. What about the bun?”

“Sir?”

“The bun.”

“Toasted, right?’

“Um, yes.”

“No one was doing that before me. Every other golf cub you’d go to, they’d give you disgusting bread like you’re a dog. Not at any Trump property. We toast.”

“Sir, can we talk about North Korea?”

“Mayo?”

“Sir, there are more important things to discuss.”

“I am now announcing that North Korea is cruising for a bruising. We’re gonna do an Executive Order on that in two weeks. When I get back to wherever. Where I have to live. Acosta, did you see what the Fake News Golf magazine said about me? That I called the White House a dump? Very typical of the biased media, which is very left-wing.”

Golf magazine is left-wing, sir?”

“We have supernukes. I can announce this now. Thanks to my leadership, the United States now has many supernukes.”

“Supernukes, sir?’

“Just the most beautiful nukes you’ve ever seen, believe me. Haberman?”

“Mr. President–”

“Mooch still calling you?”

“–I wanted to ask…yes, sir.”

“You should talk to him. Great, great, very successful guy. Didn’t work out, but I might bring him back. He did very well, everyone was talking about him, and then the very disgusting Ryan Lizza wiretaps his apartment and spreads fake news about him.”

“No, sir. Mr. Scaramucci called him on the phone. And Ryan informed him he was being taped.”

“Right, wiretapped. And who leaked that conversation?”

“Mooch called him, sir. He called a reporter.”

“Opiates are a national emergency. I’m declaring it. Barack Obama got everyone in New Hampshire, which is more disgusting than West Virginia, hooked on heroin. This is MS-13! You’ve heard of MS-13? Very, very, very bad. They cut off heads, drugs, just not great. And you know: Mexico is right there. They’re right there and they’re throwing opiates into our country.”

“Is there a policy announcement to go along with your declaration, sir?”

“Yeah, yeah, in two weeks. These people, and this is sad, they get hurt. Doctor gives them these pills. These are rough pills, real heavy hitters. People get hooked and then illegal aliens sell them drugs and rape them. The MS-13 I told you about it. You should look those guys up. No good at all.”

“Yes, sir. Can you say anything about the failure of the repeal-and-replace bill in the Senate?”

“Mitch McConnell should watch out. I might have to come up with a nickname for him.”

LARGE MAN RUNNING IN THE ROOM NOISE

“Mr. President, can I have a word?”

“General Kelly, the best. Everyone know the General? This guy is really one of my best hires. I could not have picked a better man to do whatever his job is. So proud of him, and he takes such good care of me. Tall, great.”

“Mr. President, you have a meeting.”

“It can wait. The filthy liars in the media lie about me, so I’m getting my own message out there.”

“By talking to the media?”

“General, could you get me one of those of those oatmeal raisin cookies we have? Has everyone tried these? This is Melania’s recipe, and we have it at every property. Just the most delicious cookie you’ve ever had. General, bring back cookies for everyone.”

SAD MAN WALKING OUT OF THE ROOM NOISE

“Great general. Only a three-star. I probably would have been a four-star. Rucker?”

“Can we pivot back to North Korea, sir?”

“North Korea is complicated, but it’s also very simple. China has to step up and help, but what they’ve done so far, you know, that’s good, too. But, you know, if China comes with us and helps, then maybe we make some deals. Russia is doing a great job. But what it comes down to is this little fat kid has to understand  that he should be very, very scared of my supernukes.”

“You keep mentioning these supernukes, sir.”

“Beautiful weapons. Beautiful.”

“Is there some sort of ‘red line’ that you’re setting as far as Kim Jong-Un’s behavior?”

“Yes. It’s a secret.”

“That’s not the way to do red lines, sir.”

“You don’t get a cookie. Roberts?”

“Mr. President, your former campaign manager Paul Manafort’s home was recently raided by the FBI. What are your comments on that?”

“You know, the man’s there and it’s very early. Very early. Maybe his family’s there. If his family’s there, then that’s a real tough thing to do. Real tough thing to do. I don’t know why that’s going on. For the sake of the FBI director’s job, I hope that stops. This Russia thing…there’s no Russia thing. Where is it? There’s nothing. No one is being investigated, and no one’s house is being raided and there’s no Russia. But I hope the FBI gets a little smarter. A little smarter.”

LARGE MEN RUNNING IN THE ROOM NOISE

“Mister President, the building is on fire! Come with us!”

FAT MAN BEING ESCORTED BY LARGE MEN OUT OF THE ROOM NOISE

“Are they just gonna leave us here?”

“I guess. Hey, Haberman.”

“What, Acosta?”

“You think Kelly set the fire?”

“I would have.”

A Partial Transcript From President Trump’s Phone Call With Mexican President Nieto

“Yes, great, phone call, hello.”

“Hello, Mr. President.”

“Ricky! Congratulations on getting to work with me. You are going to be muy, muy happy. Do you speak good English or should I get a maid to translate?”

“I speak fluent English.”

“Donald, Jr., doesn’t. Good boy, but he’s weak. He cares. He cares. Good boy.”

“What are we talking about?”

“You gotta pay for the wall, Ricky.”

“No.”

“I promised the people. This is bad for me if you don’t build my wall. Have I sent you the drawings? You won’t believe how beautiful this wall is gonna be. Stunning. Jared’s gonna come down.”

“Don’t send Jared down.”

“Many more Mexicans voted for me than Hillary, who has AIDS. The legal Mexicans. Cubans love me, Ricky. I go down to Florida and they give me standing ovations. It’s just amazing. Puerto Rico. Do you know about Puerto Rico?”

“Do I know what about Puerto Rico?”

“Do you know about Puerto Rico? It’s doing the most wonderful things lately, everyone’s talking about Puerto Rico, and it’s going very well. I got all of Puerto Rico’s electoral votes.”

“Excellent, Mr. President.”

“We could go to war on Canada.”

“¿Qué?”

“The president has the power to go to war. Just the president. Totally unlimited powers, no one can stop him. It’s an unbelievable thing that many people don’t know about. Maybe we go to war with Canada. Maybe me and Canada go to war with you.”

“No puedo creer que tenga que lidiar con esto.”

“What? Do I need to get the maid or not, Ricky?”

“No, Mr. President.”

“Either you gotta build me my wall or at least stop saying to the press that you’re not going to. Okay? No one thought I could get 273, but I got 306. I won Michigan by the biggest numbers anyone’s ever seen. The governor of Michigan called me up to thank me for all the beautiful things I was going to accomplish. Tim Allen called, too. Great guy, very funny. Ricky, you know Tim Allen?”

“I don’t know.”

“Incredible short game. You two would like each other. Maybe I’ll send Tim Allen down with Jared.”

“Send neither, please.”

“You know that Israel has a wall, right? Spectacular wall. We could do that, no problem. Why don’t we follow their lead? Frankly, Ricky, you owe us a wall. The cartels are bad. You should see what they’ve done to Maine. The governor up there wants to start executing Mexicans, believe me. Build me a wall or I let Maine execute Mexicans.”

“Am I being punked?”

“Shit, shit, Putin’s on the other line. Hasta la vista, baby.”

DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

¿Que ha pasado?

Send These, The Homeless, Tempest-Tost To Me

Belarus is a small country between Russia and Poland, which is a terrible idea. 90’s nostalgia seems to be all the rage, so I’ll use a trendy metaphor: Russia is OJ, Poland is his wife, and Belarus is the waiter. Waiter didn’t have to die, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Being in between Russia and Poland is the wrong place, and it has been the wrong time for over two hundred years.

In 1795 Belarus became part of the Russian Empire and the powers that be began a program known as Russification. (I did not make that word up, though it does sound like the kind of word I like to make up.) Gotta join the Orthodox Church, and wear what you’re told and speak the right language. The process was voluntary, and the only repercussions for not joining in were that you would be beaten to death after watching cossacks rape your family.

That is, if you were a Slav. Jews lived in Belarus, too. They were not included in the Russification process, but did get to participate in the “being beaten to death after watching cossacks rape your family to death” portion of the program. A Slav could be turned into a Russian, but a Jew? A Jew would always be a Jew. It was a matter of blood. They looked out for themselves, the Jews, and they whispered in their language. Look at their clothes. Look at where they live. How they live. What do they do, the Jews? Produce? I say that they do not. I say that they buy and sell. You work hard and they sit indoors all day with their books. Holy book and ledger book. A Jew cannot be a Russian. A Jew would always be a Jew.

Czar Alexander II was assassinated in 1881. On Sundays, he liked to take his carriage and go watch the soldiers march around. He always took the same route. The first bomb did not destroy the carriage, as it was bulletproof, but killed a guard standing on the running board and injured the driver. The Czar stepped from the flame-scarred carriage and demanded to be shown around the crime scene. There was a second bomber.

The Jews were blamed. Riots called pogroms broke out that were both egged on and forgiven by the Russian authorities. Pogroms weren’t the systematic and relentless extermination of the Holocaust, they just happened one night. Usually around Easter; priests led them, sometimes.

One would imagine alcohol played a part.

And the townspeople would come streaming into the Jewish section of town–Slavs that the Jews had worked and lived alongside that very afternoon–and houses and businesses would burn. Synagogue, always. Children were pulled from their beds, sometimes by their parents to be hidden, and sometimes not by their parents.

The Jews that were not murdered organized or fled. The ones who organized were killed in the next and far more vicious round of pogroms after the Revolution of 1917. The ones who fled went to Israel or America. My great-grandparents fled. Six of the eight came from the area eaten up by the Russian Empire. The other two came from Ireland when it ran out of food that one time.

I don’t know their names. They died when my parents were young, and my grandparents died when I was young. I don’t know their family names, and I don’t know the names their new village gave them.

But I do know the names Wolf and Bessie Glotzer, who changed their name to Glosser when they came to America in 1903 from Belarus. They were tired of having their house burned down and being beaten with sticks, and so they came to America. They took a boat. It was 1903, so they took a boat. After two weeks at sea, they entered New York Harbor and everyone aboard came on deck. They could see Ellis Island, where they would start the paperwork on their new lives in squatty brick buildings, but no one was looking at Ellis Island.

Not when the Statue of Liberty was right there.

That same year, 1903, a plaque bearing a poem was installed in the pedestal. It goes like this:

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
MOTHER OF EXILES. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.

“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

“Mother of Exiles.” How about that?

Emma Lazarus wrote it: it’s called “The New Colossus.” The Statue of Liberty was privately funded. Kids mailed in nickels, and charity dinners to get the swanky to write checks. One of the schemes was a fine art auction, and Emma Lazarus was asked to submit an original poem. She was a rich lady, but she was socially-minded and worked with refugees. Jews from Eastern Europe, specifically.

This poem was written about Wolf and Bessie Glotzer, and today their great-grandson Stephen Miller pissed on it.

Audition Night At The White House

“Mr. President, we have a number of candidates lined up to be your next Communications Director.”

“Communicating, very important. My White House has been the most transparent ever. Couldn’t see through Obama at all because he was black. Many people say this, General Kelly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I love when you stand up straight like a soldier.”

“I’m a Marine, sir.”

“Marine, soldier, what’s the difference?”

“Let’s just get started.”

“Good, right, yes, great. Tucker Carlson is on in fifteen minutes. Time to watch Tucker.”

“Send in the first candidate.”

DOOR OPENING NOISE

“Oy, they said you were a great orange tit, but I thought they was exaggerating.”

“Who the hell is this foreign skeleton?”

“Sir, this is Sam Cutler. He has a great deal of experience with, um, situations like ours.”

“‘E’s right, Donny. I’ve been at the ‘elm for disasters throughout the decades, I ‘ave.”

“Disaster? This White House is a well-oiled machine, the most oiled. No one’s ever seen this much oil.”

“Aye, me son. An’ the Titanic was greased up, as well.”

“Get Keith Richards’ grandfather out of here, General!”

“Wanker.”

DOOR CLOSING NOISE

“Not a win, General! Sad and weak! If this is the best you can do, I’m calling the Mooch back in.”

“That was a warm-up , sir.”

“I never need to warm-up. Stretches, whatever. Never needed to. I’m like a mountain lion.”

“Yes, sir. Next candidate, please!”

DOOR OPENING NOISE

“Ugh. What the hell is that? Terrible looking. Trenchcoat and a beret?”

“OH! OHHHHH!”

“General, what the hell is this?”

“The ghost of Sam Kinison, sir.”

“OH! OHHHHH!”

“Get it the fuck out of here! Call the Ghostbusters! The old ones, not the ugly broads.”

DOOR CLOSING NOISE

“Very, very bad choices, General! I can’t make America great with this kind of staff.”

“Well, sir, this is what answered the want-ad.”

“Bottom of the barrel, General.”

“We dug through the barrel weeks ago, sir. We’re getting close to the bedrock. I think you’ll like this next one, though.”

“Hot chick?”

“No, sir.”

“Thin ice, Kelly.”

“Next!”

DOOR OPENING NOISE

“Mr. President! You are the strongest leader America’s ever seen, and there is NO Russia.”

“I like this, good, yes, good.”

“This is plot by Zionists and the Western Media to make us look foolish.”

“Excellent, wonderful, beautiful.”

“By the sword of Allah, we will kill our enemies.”

“I liked the second half of that.”

“And there are no tanks at all in Baghdad.”

“Excuse me?”

“Mr. President, do you know Baghdad Bob?”

“Uh-huh. General, c’mere.”

GENERAL COMING THERE SOUND

“Whisper whisper whisper Muslim?”

“Whisper whisper whisper yes.”

“Next!”

“Your eyes look like the testicles of an ugly camel.”

“Go back to Iran!”

“Iraq, you dumbass.”

DOOR CLOSING NOISE

“General, this is not good. Not good! Very weak and disgusting candidates so far. Why don’t we call that tall lady?”

“Tall lady, sir?”

“The one with the nose who you can’t tell if she’s hot or not.”

“Are you talking about C.J. Cregg, sir?”

“I don’t learn women’s names.”

“I’ll see if she’s free, sir. I…huh. I thought we were done, but we have one more applicant.”

DOOR OPENING NOISE

“Heeeeeey!”

SHA NA NA INTRO MUSIC NOISE

“I like this guy already, General.”

“Goddammit.”

“Very handsome and confident. What’s your name, son?”

“What’s my name? My name? You want to know my name? Uhhhh…it’s…uh…Alberto…Poncharelli.”

“Strong name. Lends itself to a fun nickname. Very, very good.”

“Mr. President, you who are so powerful and wise. I will serve you so well. I will crush your enemies and hear the lactations of their women. I will stick my dick in the lying, fake, lying New York Times, and then I’ll take pictures of their sticky bodies to show you for your amusement.”

“General, I love this guy.”

“Sir, this is–”

“When can you start, Ponch?”

“I can start right now.”

“The best! Wonderful, beautiful, I make great choices. See, General! Clean slate!”

“Goddammit.”

A Child’s Letter To Donald Trump

Dear Mister Predisent,

My name is Hunter but everyone calls me Timmy. I love you Predisent Trump. You are the favorit predisent I have ever had. Why are the Democrats being such obstructionists? My mommy and daddy voted for you both of them.

I had a Trump birthday party and the cake was the shape of Melania, who is acknowledged as one of the great beauties. You are tall and strong. You are making America grate again. Why does the failing New York Times, which is very unfair and disgusting, lie about you? My pet lizard is named after you. He eats crickets.

Why do peple not liek you? You seem like the most predisential prediesnt since Lincoln. Can we be friends? Why did the weak and beleaguered Jeff Sessions take the job if he knew he was going to recuse himself? There’s no Russia.

My wish when I blue out teh candles was to go to Mar-A-Lago or one of your many, many high-quality properties all around the world. Can I come have lunch with you? I liek meatloaf do you liek meatloaf?

I am a real boy.

Your Friend,
Donald Hunter

Trump Scout™ Merit Badges

  • Pussy Grabbing.
  • Fire Starting. (Fire Extinguishing badge currently unavailable.)
  • Bankrupting.
  • Plan Announcing.
  • White Guy Hiring.
  • Obfuscating.
  • Obfuscating (Advanced).
  • Dog Whistling.
  • Tweeting.
  • Being Very, Very Smart And Strong.
  • Nazi Sympathizing.
  • Hair Styling.
  • Golfing.
  • The Cyber.
  • Russian Language Skills.

Anthony Scaramucci Introduces Himself To The White House Press Corps

“…and that’s why Ah’m not gettin’ inta that with you, Glenn. President Trump is not firing Attorney General Sessions at the moment.”

“I’m sorry, Sarah. To clarify: the president currently has no plans to fire AG Sessions?”

“No. President Trump is not actively at this instant engaged in the firing of the AG. Five minutes from now is gonna have t’ answer for isself.”

SHA NA NA INTRO MUSIC PLAYS

“Heeeeeey!”

“Um, they didn’t tell me that you’d be–”

“How you doin’, Huckleberry.”

ASS-SLAPPING SOUND

“The Mooch is takin’ over! You hop off the stick and lemme get my face time. Big Guy’s watching. Hey, Big Guy! Okay, who we got here? Haberman you’re lookin’ good, sweetie. Very nice. I’m a married man, but I cheat on my wife. Mooch wants that cooch.”

“Excuse me? How dare–”

“Acosta! Hey, baby! You wanna come up here and get a selfie with the Mooch? C’mere, you vain bastard. Get up here. C’mon, selfie with the Mooch.”

“I think that would be inappropriate, Mr. Scaramucci.”

“Fuck it, I’m comin’ to you.”

SELFIE WITH THE MOOCH NOISE

“Tweet that shit out, A-Train. You’re gonna break the internet. Okay, we made nice, we’re all friends now. Listen up, youse are all gonna have to adjust your attitudes. Mooch ain’t Spicer. Oh, yeah: Spicer got fired. He’s gonna tell ya he quit, but he’s just a lump of cottage cheese in a suit. I hope he makes some money with his little book he’s gonna write. Who wants to guess how much I’m worth? Jim, guess how much I’m worth.”

“I’d rather not.”

“C’mon, guess.”

“No.”

“Tell ya what: you guess my net worth within a hundred dollars without going over, and I’ll buy you a BMW.”

“This is not normal.”

“Jim, you like strip clubs? You guess how much I’m worth and I’ll buy you a strip club.”

“Can we please get back to reality?”

“That bus left the station months ago, buddy. Okay, enough about me. You all know the Mooch. Now lemme talk about Donald Trump. Marone! I love that man. To me, he’s better than George Washington. Much hotter wife, for one thing. He’s got such love for America, and so do I. Donald Trump would fight a friggin’ bear for America. Not one of those friendly show-biz bears, either. He would wrestle a friggin’ bear for you. That’s the Donald Trump I know. Haberman, you little mynx, I didn’t forget about youse.”

“Oh, wonderful.”

“Ask me a question.”

“Mr. Scaramucci.”

“Call me Mooch.”

“Under no circumstances. Mr. Scaramucci, you’re a successful businessman with complex financial holdings. Have you fully divested from your portfolio?”

“Nah.”

“That’s it? ‘Nah?'”

“Yeah, nah. I had a talk with the Big Guy and he said it was fine if I kept my business.”

“It’s not fine.”

“He said.”

“That’s not the way it works.”

“Kinda seems to be now, doesn’t it?”

CROTCH-GRABBING NOISE

“Okay, pussies, I’m hitting the gym. See ya, wouldn’t wanna be ya. Mooch out!”

A Partial Transcript Of CNN’s State Of The Union, 7/16/17

“My guest this morning is a member of President Trump’s legal team, Jay Sekulow. Good morning, Mr. Sekulow.”

“I disagree with your assertion that the morning is good. Hello, Jake.”

“Mr. Sekulow–”

“Jake. this entire farce has been nothing but a witch hunt against the greatest president this nation or any has ever seen. President Trump has been working his fingers to the bone for America, but stymied in his attempts to make America great again by the Democrats and the media.”

“Where is the president now?”

“Watching women’s golf for the third day in a row.”

“Mr. Sekulow, let’s go over the facts.”

“I disagree with those, too.”

“Yes, that seems to be a prerequisite for this administration. Nevertheless, on June 8th of last year, there was a meeting in Trump Tower that I’d like to talk about.”

“A very normal meeting.”

“No, sir.”

“I have never been to a single meeting in my working life that did not contain at least one music promoter and a Russian translator.”

“Right.”

“Regardless of what the lying media wants to say about this meeting, it was completely standard procedure.”

“No, this isn’t standard procedure at all. The email to Donald Trump, Jr., was very specific in the fact that the information to be exchanged in that meeting came from the Russian government.”

“Who reads emails these days?”

“Mr. Sekulow.”

“Jake, you need to remember that things were happening very quickly at that point, and there just wasn’t time to be ethical.”

“What?”

“And let me remind you that Hillary Clinton’s campaign received the questions for one of the debates early.”

“Why is that relevant?”

“Because why are you not questioning her lawyer today?”

“Mr. Sekulow, she’s not the president.”

“Maybe she should have colluded with the Russians. Really helped us out.”

“Are you admitting that the Trump campaign colluded with the Russians, sir?”

“Sure! Everybody colludes! We’re colluding right now. I colluded with my family this morning. Maybe I’ll collude with my dog later.”

“That’s not what collude means.”

“Collude. Funny sounding word.”

“If we could get on track–”

“James Comey told the president on three separate occasions that he wasn’t being investigated, and I think that about puts an end to it.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, so James Comey was lying? Guess we can’t believe anything else he said and maybe he should be tried for perjury.”

“Perjury? From when?’

“When he colluded with the Senate committee.”

“Mr. Sekulow, what do you think the word ‘collusion’ means?”

“It doesn’t really mean anything. It’s just a placeholder word.”

“Not a thing.”

“The fact is that the president had no knowledge of this meeting, even though nothing even slightly illegal or immoral happened in it.”

“But, Mr. Sekulow, if there was nothing wrong with the meeting, then why wouldn’t the president want to know about it?’

“Uhhh.”

“The Secret Service said it was okay.”

“What?”

“The campaign ran the meeting by the Secret Service, and they thoroughly vetted the participants and okayed the meeting.”

“Mr. Sekulow, the producer in my ear is telling me that the Secret Service just tweeted out, and I quote, No we fucking didn’t followed by three…no, four emojis.”

“Which emojis?”

“Laughing-so-hard-its-crying.”

“I stand by my statement. Jake, this is all fake news. The meeting that Donald Trump, Jr,, set up on his own with absolutely no oversight from the president was completely legal. The White House is very proud of Don, Jr., and the meeting that he set up all by himself and the emails he answered on his personal computer without being advised to by the president. Very proud, and if anyone has to go to jail, it should be him. Very proud.”

“Wow.”

“Thanks for having me, Jake. I have 32 other interviews to give this morning.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sekulow.”

Donald Trump, Jr., Returns To Meet With His Attorney

“JUNIOR!”

“I’m awake! I’m awake!”

“How did you fall asleep? I was speaking to you.”

“You’ve got a real boring voice. No offense, Mr Jenkins.”

“How could I possibly take offense to that? Are you awake now?”

“Little sleepy.”

“You want a coffee?”

“No, thanks. I’ll take a quesadilla if you have one.”

“We don’t.”

“What kind of law office is this?”

“Junior, concentrate. In our last meeting, you said that there were five people in the meeting.”

“Which meeting?”

“The one with the Russians.”

“You’re gonna need to be much more specific.”

“The meeting that took place in Trump Tower during June of 2016.”

“Ohhhh. That meeting with the Russians.”

“Junior, were there any meetings with the Russians you’re not telling me about?’

“Can I plead the Fifth?”

“No.”

“What about the Sixth?”

INTERCOM TURNING-ON NOISE

“Mrs. Woods, are you back?”

“I’m right here, Mr. Jenkins.”

“Thank God. My mother dead yet?”

“No, sir.”

“So I have not inherited her estate and therefore must continue to work at this job?”

“Hit the nail on the head, sir.”

“Mrs. Woods?”

“For the last time, sir, I will not murder your mother.”

“I told you that you could have half!”

INTERCOM TURNING-OFF NOISE

“Okay, Junior. So, we need to…JUNIOR!”

“I’m awake! I’m awake!”

“Are you not sleeping at night, son?”

“I sleep, like, sixteen hours a day.”

“If you increased that by fifty percent, then none of us would be in this mess.”

“I was told there would be no math.”

“Right. Let’s go back to the meeting.”

“Awesome. Can we stop for quesadillas?”

“I meant that we should discuss the meeting.”

“I took you literally.”

“You did. Now I want you to tell me the whole truth. Who was in this meeting?”

“Okay. Lemme see. It was me and Goldy. Russian lawyer lady. Mr. Manafort and Fart-head. Three guys in track suits squatting on the table and smoking. Another lady who was translating. Seven-foot tall mad monk. Another lady–”

“Wait.”

“–who was…yeah?”

“Mad monk?”

“He was creepy, dude. I cut my finger on a staple and he stopped the bleeding with his magic.”

“Y’know what? Fine. At this point? Fine. What was the staple in?”

“The top-secret information on Hillary Clinton they gave us.”

“YOU SAID THEY DIDN’T GIVE YOU ANYTHING!”

“Yeah, I lied. Lol.”

“You have to stop lying to me, Junior.”

“The strategy’s worked up til now. Listen, man: can’t we just settle with whoever’s suing us for 40 cents on the dollar?”

“Yeah, that’s not how treason works.”

“Treason? Is that a restaurant? Is it near Dorsia?”

“Concentrate. Who else was at the meeting?”

“No one else. I mean, no one else was there there.”

“Huh?”

“There was a guy Skyping in.”

“What guy?”

“He had the friendliest face you’ve ever seen. Like, I looked at him and just felt love and acceptance.”

“Siri, show me a picture of Vladimir Putin.”

“Checking.”

“That’s him!”

“Of course it is.”

“Do you know him? He’s the shit, man.”

INTERCOM TURNING-ON NOISE

“Mrs. Woods?”

“Da. Is Mrs. Voods.”

“Who is this?”

“I tell you. Is Mrs. Voods. Is loyal American voman secretary.”

“Mrs. Woods, do you have any vodka?”

“Da. Have two gallons in purse.”

“Then come on in here and let’s do some colluding.”

INTERCOM TURNING-OFF NOISE

“We getting drunk, Mr. Jenkins?”

“Me and Mrs. Woods are.”

“Oh.”

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