Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: john kelly

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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