Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: john kelly

President Trump Examines His Military Options

INT. OVAL OFFICE – RIGHT AFTER FOX & FRIENDS

“Lemme see hands. We’re gonna vote, even though I’m the President of all the people, even the blacks. We’ll vote, but maybe I’ll just do what I want. Who knows? We could do voting, we could do my idea, we’ll see. Okay, voting. All in favor? Opposed? Beautiful, wonderful, the ayes have it. We’re getting cheese in the crust. General?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Where’s my General?”

“You’re literally making eye contact with me, Mr. President.”

“General?”

“Sweet Jesus, take me now.”

“General! There you are. I thought the Deep State got you. General, make the call. Cheese in the crust, which was my idea. I called up the CEO of Pizza Hut, told him, he did it. Millions. Millions, this guy made from jamming cheese in the crust. I told him to do it. Great guy. You should see his yacht. Call for the pizza, General.”

“We’ll get to the pizza, sir. But, once again, who are these people in the Oval Office?”

“Good friends of mine from Mar-A-Lago. It’s a membership perk for the real winners. Unlimited cocktail shrimp, plus you hang out with me for the day. Watch the greatest president in US history from up close. In many ways, these spectacular people are the real historians of our age. Great, great, wonderful folks. Some of ’em don’t speak English, but they’re rich, so it’s okay.”

“Have they been vetted?”

“Vetted, shmetted.”

“Holy God.”

“Are we doing the God bit now? Let us pray.”

OVAL OFFICE FULL OF RICH PEOPLE BOWING THEIR HEADS NOISE

“No, we’re not doing the God bit, sir.”

“I pray very well. The Pope told me that. Better than him, that’s what he said.”

“Sir, we have a meeting scheduled with–”

“You hear that, everybody? Meeting! Very exciting, wonderful, okay, great.”

“–General Mattis to discuss…sir, it’s top secret. We need to get the civilians out of the room.”

“You heard the General, folks. Sorry. Let’s go. C’mon, I’m gonna show you the Lincoln Bedroom.”

“Not you, sir. You’re not a civilian anymore.”

“I knew that. I was testing you, and you passed, unlike the slimy James Comey, who didn’t even see my hands. I never showed him my hands, not once, and in fact never met him in person, so his book must be fake news. Excellent work, General.”

“Okay, out.”

RICH PEOPLE EXITING OVAL OFFICE NOISE

“Very forceful. Strong. You’re the best general, General. Can I promote you?”

“No, sir. I retired from the Army, so–”

“You’re promoted. Bing bong. Done, there you go. You’re not just a general, you’re a major general.”

“That would actually be a demotion, sir.”

“Bing bong.”

“Whatever. Listen, Mattis is here.”

“Ooh, great. General sandwich. All my generals in one place, and I have the best generals that anyone has ever seen. They’re all tall, really sharp. The best generals.”

“Yes, sir.”

KNOCK KNOCK

“Oh, here he is.”

“Is that the pizza?”

TALL MAN OPENING THE DOOR FOR ANOTHER TALL MAN NOISE

“John.”

“Jim.”

“How’s he today?”

“He’s a gibbering fucktard incapable of even the most basic thought.”

“So, the usual?”

“Yup.”

“He’s gonna call me Mad Dog, isn’t he?”

“Yup.”

“You want a xan?”

“Yup.”

TALL MAN GIVING ANOTHER TALL MAN A XAN NOISE

“Muchas Garcias, brother.”

“Where you headed to?”

“Gonna get shitty in the Treaty Room. Got a bottle of Cuervo stashed in there.”

“Save some for me. Gonna need some when I get through with Momma’s Special Angel.”

“Mad Dog!”

“Fuck, he saw me.”

“Courage.”

TALL MAN WITH A RUINED REPUTATION SLINKING OFF TO THE TREATY ROOM TO GET SHITTY NOISE

“Mr. President.”

“Mad Dog! Where’s my Mad Dog?”

“Standing in front of your desk, sir.”

“Mad Dog?”

“Not out the window.”

“Dog? Mad Dog?”

“I don’t know why you’d look in the wastepaper basket, sir. I’m clearly not in there.”

“General Mad Dog?”

“Now you’re just staring at the ceiling. Right here, sir.”

“Mad Dog! There’s my dog! What’s up, dog? The blacks say that all the time, and then they make the rap gestures. What’s up, dog. You ever meet Ludacris?”

“I haven’t, sir.”

“Good business mind. You know, for what he is.”

“Sir, I’m here to talk to you about the situation in Syria.”

“Add more milk.”

“Not cereal, sir. Syria.”

“Very bad. Obama started that war. Personally. May have also been born there. He kind of looks Syrian, right? Many people who know Syrians have told me that Obama is definitely a Syrian, and these are real smart people. Winners, sharks, my very good friends. Obama was Syrian.”

“Uh-huh, yeah. Sir, we have a plan ready for your approval to bomb selected sites within Damascus that we believe may be key to the chemical weapon program.”

“They can’t do chemical. This is what everyone who knows anything says. Shooting? Bing bang bang? Sure, go ahead, shoot your guns, whatever. Sometimes these things happen. Bing bang. But chemical? No, not chemical. Very, very bad. Chemical. It’s a big deal.”

“Yes, sir. Now, there may be blowback from the elements backing Assad.”

“Fuck ’em. Bomb!”

“Such as Iran.”

“Fuck ’em. Bomb! Bomb, bomb, bomb.”

“And Russia.”

“Excuse me?”

“Russia is backing Assad.”

“Fake news.”

“No, sir. Everyone on the planet knows this information.”

“Maybe we should wait. Two weeks, kick it around. Maybe we should see what Hope thinks. Hope!”

“She quit two weeks ago, sir.”

“Hopester!”

“She is in a different state, sir.”

“Hopey!”

“For fuck’s sake.”

“She’s probably in the bathroom. Amazing control on that girl. She goes when she wants to. Holds it in for days. It’s a miracle.”

“Sir, the conflict with the Russians might be ameliorated by, through back channels, alerting them to pull their troops from the sites we intend to destroy.”

“Good idea.”

CELL PHONE DIALING NOISE

“That better not be who I think it is.”

“Mr. President!”

“Da. Is Putin. Hello, The Donald.”

“You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“President Putin, everything in America is going so, so, so beautifully. The jobs, everything. Trade deals are being made, but I get no credit for at all, but America is winning again and it’s a real compliment to me. How’s the weather in Moscow?”

“Is snowing.”

“Great, snow, the skiing, gloves, wonderful. Listen, Mr. President, we’re gonna shoot some rockets at Syria in a little bit. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, who knows? Anyway, your men should duck out of the way.”

“Vhere vill you shoot these rockets?”

“Syria.”

“Is big country. Vhere exactly?”

“You ask the best questions. I got no idea. I’m the big picture guy. All the details, I leave to my staff. Hold on, let me put the Mad Dog on. He can tell you the locations.”

“Holy shit, do not put me on the phone with fucking Putin.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“Mr. President, we’re gonna call you right back. My pizza’s at the front gate.”

“Vith cheese in crust?”

“Bing bong.”

A Partial Transcript Of Donald J. Trump’s Remarks At The White House Easter Egg Roll, 4/2/18

“Great, look, children. Hello, children, I am the President because I beat Hillary Clinton very, very badly. She was bad. Can you say ‘Crooked Hillary?’ Many of her friends ate children, or had sex with them. John Podesta. Podesta the Molesta. Bad guy, kids, and I want you to forget all about that because I am the President, like I said and everyone knows, and I will keep you safe while you look for whatever. Eggs? Eggs, whatever, great.”

“WAAAAAAAAH!”

“What is it doing? It’s making a noise, and not a very good one. An awful noise, If I’m honest. Someone come get it. General?”

“Sir.”

“General Kelly? Where’s my General?”

“Right next to you, sir.”

“General? Is this you in the bunny suit?”

“No, I’m not in the fucking…no, sir. Swivel.”

“Like this?”

“No, that’s bending over.”

“I can’t see you, General.”

“Straighten up and turn around.”

“Like this?”

“You’re doing the Macarena.”

“I was the first one to do the Macaroni. No one gives me credit for being a pioneer of dance. Oh, there you are. Get rid of the kids.”

“They all fled, sir.”

“Good, good. Bring ’em back when they’ve graduated business school. I let the wives do the kids, General. That’s their deal. Kids. They got snot all over them, real gross stuff. Shit everywhere. Not my thing! Wife does that, and the nannies, whatever. And then, you know, you got nannies in the house and sometimes you can get in there. You a nannybanger, General?”

“I never married, nor had children, sir.”

“Fag? I don’t care, just asking.”

“Sir, we have had this exact conversation five times a day for going on a year now.”

“Let’s talk to the press.”

“Oh, please, no.”

“Press? Where’s my press? Press?”

PRESS BEING SHUFFLED IN NOISE

“You are all fake news.”

“Sir, can you say whether–”

“Maggie, lemme take someone else’s question. I’ll call you secretly later.”

“Jesus, man. Not out loud.”

“Press? Where’s the press? You, Jim. Jim, are you lying or failing?”

“Neither, sir. I’m with CNN.”

“You are lying and failing. Very, very fake and negative and maybe not nice. Very not nice, when I have set records with every segment of the black economy. The wall is being built. It’s almost done, very close to being complete and so beautiful. No one has a wall like this. China called me, this is true. They called and said, ‘Mr. Trump, our wall is good, but you have the best wall.’ They said that, and it was a real compliment to me because, you know, they’re known for their wall. But mine is better. Great, great wall. They said, ‘Maybe your’s should be called the Greatest Wall.’ They said that. The Chinese.”

“Do you have any comment on the new tariffs they’ve announced?”

“There are recreational vehicles full of Mexicans coming up here right now. As we speak. Huge line of RV’s heading north, and they’ve all got knives and diseases and because we don’t have the wall, many women will be violated and shot with Uzis. They’re coming from everywhere. There’s Mexicans from Argentina, Colombia, wherever. And they’re on their way. Maybe that’s a job for the Army? General? Can I bomb Mexico to stop Uzis?”

“Do you want Buffalo wings, Mr. President?”

“Yes, let’s do that. When I went to Wharton, which everyone recognizes is the best business school in the world, I was thinking about going pro in wing-eating. Nobody could beat me. People would come up to me on the street and say, ‘Hey, I heard you ate the most wings, 80, 90, 100, who remembers how many?’ And I didn’t have any trick. I’m just good at a lot of things naturally.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Bring back the kids. I have important things to tell them. Only the good ones. You know. The good ones. Only American kids.”

CHILDREN BEING SHUFFLED IN NOISE

“Kids, we’re at the White House. Many, many Presidents have lived here and the staff keeps it up real nice. Super-duper shape. A lot of the staff are blacks, but they still work hard. Shrubs are overgrown? Bing bing bong, you got neat shrubs. You could even live here if you’re in a wheelchair. Roosevelt. Wheelchair. Still won World War Two. Never stood up, but he won a war. That’s big, that’s killer. And I got snipers on the roof. Snipers, come on out! Snipers? Where are my snipers?”

“Sir, we like to downplay the ‘snipers on the roof’ thing.”

“Snipers?”

“Sir, the children.”

“They all have to go back to Mexico.”

“Yes, sir. Wings?”

“Let’s do wings, great, absolutely.”

Donald Trump Meets Secretary Of State Candidates

OVAL OFFICE – NOONISH

“General? Where’s my general?”

“Right here, sir.”

“General Kelly? General?”

“Stop looking all around the room, Mr. President.”

“General?”

“I’m just gonna tap you on the shoulder.”

“Oh, there you are. General, this is a big day. Maybe the biggest day in White House history. Have I shown you the Lincoln Bedroom?”

“Dozens of times, sir.”

“Beautiful bedroom, Republican bedroom. Lincoln was a Republican, which most people don’t know. Even though he had a beard, he was a Republican. Wild, right?”

“Crazy, sir. We should get to the auditions for Secretary of State.”

“Ring-Dings first.”

“After the first candidate, sir.”

“Are you trying to manage me, General!? Do I need to be managed like a little fucking baby!? I’m not a fucking baby! Gimme my Ring-Dings!”

INDIVIDUALLY-WRAPPED COMMERCIAL PASTRY BEING HANDED OVER NOISE

“Ooh, Ring-Ding.”

“I’ll invite the first candidate in, sir.”

“Great, sure, okay, fine, Ring-Ding.

DOOR OPENING NOISE

“Ahh! Jesus! The inner-city!”

“Mr. President, that’s former Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice.”

“I knew that. I told you that. I knew that much, much more than anyone thought, but I surprised them and beat 32 people to get the nomination. Conestoga?”

“My name is Condoleeza, Mr. President.”

“Is that your real name or your rap name?”

“I am not going to answer that question.”

“I know all the rap guys. Good friends of mine. Diddy, I know Diddy. Big money guy, real killer. Lil Jon was onĀ The Apprentice. Excellent player, good at the game. Snoop. Tall. Very tall, Snoop. They all tell me, ‘Mr. Trump, thank you for your inspiration.’ I played golf with Ja Rule.”

“Good for you, sir.”

“Cunnilingus–”

“Nope.”

“–I’m very interested in you being thee next Secretary of State in order to open up relations with Wakanda, but I’m gonna need to see your birth certificate.”

“I’m outta here.”

DOOR CLOSING PROFESSIONALLY, BUT FIRMLY NOISE

“I turned her down. You saw that, General.”

“Yes, sir. Sent her packing.”

“The best people, all the great, talented people: they all want a piece of the White House. I get–and you know this is true, General–the best people in the world. They’re knocking down the door, the best people.”

KNOCKING ON DOOR NOISE

“See?”

“Oh, I think you’ll like this candidate, President Trump. Come on in!”

WHRRRRRRR

“What the hell is that thing?”

“This is the IT-O Interrogator droid.

WHRRRRRRR

“Is it just gonna hover there?”

“That’s what it does, sir.”

“No. Gotta have legs. You know who doesn’t have legs, General? Snakes, sharks, Tammy Duckworth. Can’t trust anything without legs, very important, some people say in the top five limbs. You ever see what the Koreans are doing with their legs?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“Killing us! They’re laughing at us with their legs. Gotta have legs.”

“O…kay.”

DOOR CLOSING NOISE

“General, I’m not impressed by your picks. I make the most wonderful picks, and you’re just blowing it. Maybe I do Secretary of State? I do a comprehensive, put everything together. I mean, I took care of Rocket Man, bing bang dong. It was easy, easy, and Obama couldn’t do it. Both Bushes, Daddy and Whatever, they couldn’t do it. Hillary sent North Korea plutonium as a Christmas present, and then she tried to pass a law that you couldn’t say ‘Merry Christmas.’ I saw a tape of it, believe me. The worst.”

“Yes, sir. Perhaps this next fellow will be more to your liking.”

“Robble robble.”

“Hamburgler!”

“Robble robble.”

“You look so good, very handsome.”

“Robble robble.”

“Thank you, it’s from the Trump Tie Collection, which are probably the greatest neckties ever sold. I’ve had so many people call me up. Kid Rock. Can you believe that? He calls me and says, ‘Mr. Trump, I’m a rocker guy, I don’t do neck ties, but I had this fancy thing to attend and I put on one of your ties and, like, wow.’ Kid Rock said it was the most comfortable tie he’d ever worn, which is a great compliment to me, a beautiful compliment. Kid Rock.”

“Robble robble.”

“We can work out your salary, we can work out the money, don’t worry about the money. I think you’re my guy. We should celebrate. Let’s get some burgers.”

“Robble robble?”

“Burgers.”

“Robble robble!”

DOOR SLAMMING NOISE

“What happened? General?”

“Well, he’s got a hamburger for a head. You basically accused him of being a cannibal.”

“Fake news.”

“Yes, sir. Never happened.”

“Is Mayor McCheese available?”

“We’re going to have the same problem there, too, sir.”

“Now I want burgers.”

“Yes, sir. What should we do about Secretary of State?”

“Who’s the fatty running the CIA?”

“Mike Pompeo.”

“He’ll do.”

President Trump Makes Condolence Calls To Gold Star Families

“Great, okay, spectacular. General, that was the best Fox & Friends I’ve seen since yesterday. No fake news! They’re the best. How is the rest of the lying media allowed to not report on Hillary Clinton selling Uranus to Russia?”

“Uranium, sir.”

“I knew that. Uranium comes from Uranus. That’s where they mine it. I have many friends in the Uranium mining business, they were big supporters of mine, very early supporters. How long until lunch?”

“It’s ten a.m., sir.”

“I’m thinking KFC, General. I want you to join me for chicken.”

“My doctor wants me to watch my sodium, sir.”

“I have the best sodium. Don’t worry about the sodium. The chicken’s salty, but I’ll get you a Diet Coke to wash it down.”

“That’s not how sodium works, sir.”

“Have you tried the Double Down? This was my idea, the Double Down. I called up Colonel Sanders, who is a dear friend. Member of several of my beautiful clubs, played golf with the Colonel many, many times. I say, ‘Colonel, what about a grilled cheese sandwich but the bread is fried chicken?’ And he’s done very, very well with that product. Calls to thank me all the time. Delicious sandwich. Double Down, General?”

“It’s ten a.m., sir.”

“I knew that. Okay, well, lunch is forever away so let’s get to work. I’m gonna call all these Goldstein families.”

“Gold Star, sir.”

“Even if the soldier was Jewish?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Our military is so beautiful, General. Much better than the Congress, which is disgusting and should be ashamed of themselves. Can I use the military on Congress?”

“Let me look into that and get back to you, sir.”

“Good, good, wonderful. Okay, let’s make some calls. Watch how much better I do this than Obama, who didn’t even call because he hated the troops and America. Most racist president we’ve ever had. These egghead historians think that the presidents who owned slaves were more racist, but you don’t have to be racist to own slaves. They were businessmen. Obama was far more racist. Who’s the first call?”

“Mr. President, don’t you want to study the biography of the soldier before you–”

“Nope! Gonna wing it. I’ll knock it out of the park. I’m gonna go bing bing bing and get through this and all the widows will say very nice things about me. First!”

“First is a Marine named Dontavious Watts.”

“Eh.”

“Sir?”

“Maybe he gets a letter. Send a letter. Have the Miller kid write it. He sounds like he gets a letter.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Next?”

“A Special Forces soldier named Rafael Ochoa.”

“Letter.”

“Army Captain named Michael Wilkinson.”

“Get the widow on the phone. Wait. How do you spell ‘Michael?'”

“The way you want it to be spelled, sir.”

“Great, good, wonderful. Get the widow on the phone.”

OVAL OFFICE PHONE DIALING NOISE

“Hello? Is this the Widow Wilkinson? This is Donald Trump, I’m the president. Wow, big day for you. Talking to the president, huh. Not a lot of people get to do that. You’re very lucky.”

“Oh, you’re at the funeral now?”

“Graveside?”

“Well, just step away for a minute so you can talk to me. There’s noise in the background and I can’t hear you. This is a very important phone call for both of us, but more for you.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Hello? Widow? Hello? Widow? General?”

“Here, sir.”

“General? Where’s my General?”

“Look slightly to your left, sir.”

“General? General? Oh, there you are. That call went so beautifully. No one gives me credit for how I connect to people, but I think the Widow Whatshername will remember that call for a very, very long time. Just beautiful. Who’s next?”

“You sure you don’t want to take a teevee break?”

“No, I’m in the groove. Ten out of ten. That’s how I’m doing, and many people would agree. Ten out of ten. Next!”

“Next is Edward Barbado. He was caught up in an ambush in Afghan–”

“I got it, I got it. Ed is dead. I got it.”

“You’re going to be talking to his mother, sir.”

“Mother, sure, right.”

OVAL OFFICE DIALING NOISE

“No answer. I’ll leave a message.”

“Sir, please do not leave a message.”

“I leave the best…Hello, Mrs. Barbarino. This is Donald Trump. Calling about your son. Very sad. Things like this should never happen, but they do. I have been informed that the plans for the mission he was on when he was shot were drawn up by Obama. Basically, Obama killed your son. Okay, call me back. I’m gonna send you some steaks. Do you like steaks? A big package, I’ll send it out to you. You’re gonna rave about these steaks. Okay.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

“Perfect. That was perfect. I knew I was going to leave a great message, but even I was surprised by how well it turned out. Just perfect.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Should we release the tape of me consoling her so well?”

“No, sir. We really don’t want to do that.”

“I want everyone to see how much better I am at this than all the other presidents. I got it. Bing bing bing.”

“Sir, please don’t–”

“I’m gonna tweet out my condolences to the mother.”

“–tweet out…sir, no.”

TWITTER APP ON A COMPLETELY UNSECURED PHONE OPENING NOISE

“Maybe we should work on a draft before you–”

Mother Barbarian! Your boy did not die in vein! Brave! And I hit send and…”

TWEET SENDING NOISE

“Bing bing bing.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want lunch now.”

“You’ve earned it, sir.”

Maggie Haberman Gets A Call About Her Article

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Fuck me. Just fuck my life in every hole. Four in the goddamned morning. What?”

“Ms. Haberman, this is General John Kelly.”

“Hello. Uh, sir.”

“Ma’am, I read your article today, and I’d like to know the names of your sources.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“TELL ME NOW, MAGGOT!”

“You know I’m not a recruit at Parris Island, right?”

“Yeah, sorry. I was in the Corps for 35 years. Yelling at people generally produced results.”

“Sure. How’s the president taking the article?”

“The one about me controlling all access to him and strategically denying him unhelpful information?”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t let him see it.”

“Smart move.”

“I’m like the fucking Dutch boy over here, except instead of my finger, it’s my dick plugging up the fucking hole. Pardon my French.”

“I’ve heard worse. Mostly when The Mooch calls.”

“Man, I skullfucked that pissant, didn’t I? You could see right through the hole I made. Only fun I’ve had at this job.”

“That bad?”

“You’ve apparently talked to everyone in the building about it.”

“I was being polite.”

“Starting to think the only thing that could solve this administration’s troubles is an air strike.”

“On the White House?”

“White House, North Korea, Tehran. It’s like a Gordian Knot of shit over here. Lemme tell you something: if Eric Trump was my kid, I would’ve eaten him. Like fucking Kronos. Only thing that soft little cocksmith is good for is protein.”

“A little harsh.”

“Ms. Haberman, this fucking place is a retard orgy. You ever been been to a retard orgy? Got one over there trying to fuck a potted plant, this one’s taking a shit on the couch, nothing’s getting done, no one’s happy, and everything is starting to smell. Retard orgy.”

“We don’t need to use that word, General.”

“Losing it with these fucking shitheels. No discipline, and that starts at the top. Other day I was talking to the president and I realized my hands were involuntarily wrapping an imaginary bar of soap up in a towel.”

“I think most people would understand your feelings.”

“Marines don’t have feelings, ma’am; Marines have knives.”

“Right.”

“You should hear him stand up out of his chair. Sounds like a goat dying.”

“That’s very specific.”

“You can’t spend too much time in the Middle East without knowing what a goat dying sounds like.”

“I suppose.”

“There’s too many paths to the greasy bastard. He’s got phones hidden all around the building and all those asshole-buddies of his call him up and pour molten shit in his ear. You know Roger Stone?”

“Who doesn’t.”

“I find that perverted weasel, I’m pegging him with my bayonet.”

“Ow.”

“Tell me he doesn’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Shit, you ought to be thanking me.”

“For what, General?”

“Wrestled the nuclear football out of his hands twice today.”

“Holy God, what happened?”

“Those useless sacks of shit on Fox and Friends started talking about ‘Why don’t we nuke that hurricane before it hits land?’ And guess who thought that was a capital fucking idea?”

“Holy God.”

“God left the fucking building six months ago, ma’am.”

“Please don’t let him nuke the hurricane.”

“I’m doing my best. Turns out he’s easily distractable. Throw a drumstick from KFC in front of him and he forgets what he was talking about. It’s like training a seal.”

“You should teach him how to balance a ball on his nose.”

“Ms. Haberman, he can barely balance himself on the earth. I’ve never seen a more incompetent fuck in my life.”

“Jesus. Wait. Why are you still up?”

“Still up? I’m starting my day. Marines beat the sun out of bed, ma’am.”

“Good to know. The rest of them call me while they’re drinking.”

“Oh, I’m already drunk as hell.”

“This all keeps getting worse.”

“Oo-rah.”

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