Thoughts On The Dead

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

Tag: jr.

Maggie Haberman Receives A Late-Night Phone Call From Whom You’d Expect

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Just one night of peace. Just one…yeah, what do you want?”

“Hi. We need two pies, one with pepperoni, and an order of cheesy bread.”

“Hi, Don, Jr.”

“Is this Papa John’s?”

“No, it’s Maggie Haberman.”

“That’s the weirdest name for a pizza place.”

“I’m not a pizzeria, Junior. I’m a reporter for the New York Times.

“The lying, failing New York Times?”

“Ohhhh, right. You’re fake news.”

“Sure. Busy day, huh?”

“Everybody’s stupid. No one knows what’s going on. My FRIEND Julian was trying to help my dad make America great, and the media is making, like, this whole thing about it like it’s a federal case.”

“It is literally a federal case, Junior.”

“WHY? I didn’t do anything wrong. Maggie?”

“What?”

“Do you have any pizza at your house you could bring over?”

“No.”

“I’m so hungry.”

“Junior, tell me about your relationship with Julian Assange.”

“Julian Asswich is my friend.”

“Assange.”

“Hasaaaaaan CHOP! Remember that? From the Daffy Duck cartoon? Big Ay-rab guy with a sword. Do you know they throw buildings at homosexuals?”

“Concentrate, Junior.”

“Julie’s awesome.”

“Don’t call him that.”

“We met on Twitter. He’s my tweep.”

“Don’t ever say that word again.”

“And we, like, send each other memes. That guy? That guy memes.”

“Uh-huh. What else?”

“Couch tour.”

“Don’t you bring couch tour into this. Leave couch tour out of it.”

“Okay, so you tell me what the problem is. He sends me a link to a site.”

“Right.”

“A lying, failing fake news site that wants to say fake things about my dad.”

“Sure.”

“And he gives me the password to the admin page. So I log in, right? And it’s one of those sites with the About page where they have little bios for everyone who contributes? So, I changed all their info.”

“To what?”

IDIOTIC LAUGHING NOISE

“I called them all gay.”

“Good one, Junior.”

“Even the ladies!”

“Wow. You’re like Lenny Bruce.”

“I don’t know who that is. Is he a winner?”

“Not really. Listen, Junior: that’s a crime. What you just described is a crime.”

“Calling people gay? I swear that political correctness is killing this country. We need to build a wall.”

“To keep out political correctness?”

“Yes.”

“Uh-huh. The crime is hacking. Hacking is a crime, Junior.”

“Pssh. Hacking’s not a crime. Hacking’s fucking awesome. Besides, I covered my tracks.”

“How so?”

“I switched my browser to incognito mode.”

“Yeah, you covered your tracks.”

“I’m fucking Archer, man.”

“You are. What else did you guys discuss?”

“Chicks. Star Wars. The gym. Chicks.”

“You said chicks twice.”

“That guy fucks. That guy memes, and that guy fucks.”

“Jesus.”

“Oh, and he would give me tips on when he was going to drop some heavy information. Like, a heads-up. And then I’d tell my dad. And, like, my dad looked at me with…I don’t know. I’ve never seen that expression on his face before.”

“Pride?”

“I guess. He didn’t slap me in front of people like he usually does.”

“All happy families are alike, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way.”

“Wow. That’s deep. Is that Kanye?”

“No. Junior, you keep getting yourself into deeper and deeper trouble with these Russians.”

“I wasn’t talking to the Russians this time. I was talking to Julian from Wikileaks.”

“I stand by my statement.”

“It’s just all fake news! The Democrats and the Deep State and George Soros and Hillary Clinton are the ones who collude. No collude from me. They have so much collude.”

“Collude.”

“Do you know what collude means?”

“I keep meaning to look it up.”

“Junior, you need a lawyer.”

“My dad’s lawyers said that I didn’t.”

“That’s because they’re setting you up to take the fall.”

“My dad wouldn’t do that. He told me I was his favorite. I mean, he was looking at Ivanka when he said it, but I was in the room.”

“Right. Junior, I’m going to bed. Try not to fuck up any more than you already have.”

“Okay. Forget the pizza. Could you make me a sandwich and bring it by?”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT

A Gifted Man

“NIX, BEFORE WE UNDERTAKE THIS PERILOUS JOURNEY TO RESCUE THE FUTURE FROM ITSELF, AH WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT YOU WITH SOME FINE GIFTS.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. Thank you, Elvis. Are all of the gifts pills?”

“NO, SIR. NOT ALL.”

“Elvis, I keep telling you: Nixon doesn’t do quaaludes.”

“AW, C’MON, NIX: LIVE A LITTLE. LUDE UP WITH TH’ KING.”

“No, thank you.”

“LESS GET LUDED, MAN.”

“Elvis: no.”

“AH’LL BE LUDE FERRIGNO, AN’ YOU BE LUDE GOSSETT, JR.”

“Dammit, King, this is 1970. You wouldn’t know who either of those people are yet.”

“THE CONTINUITY OF THIS HERE UNIVERSE GOT A FLOATING TIMELINE, MR. PRESIDENT.”

“Y’know, just when I start to understand this bullshit, the rules change.”

“AH HAVE GIFTS OTHER’N PILLS, NIX. PLEASE ACCEPT THIS PHOTOGRAPH OF MAHSELF.”

“Thank you, Elvis.”

“THIS A L’IL BITTY BOTTLE O’ SHAMPOO AH STOLE FROM MAH HOTEL. AH GIVE IT TO YOU.”

“Well, the White House stewards generally provide toiletries, but thank you for the gift. What hotel are you staying at?”

“BIG OL’ PLACE CALLED THE WATERGATE.”

“I’ve never been.”

“YOU SHOULD STOP IN, MAN. THEY DO A HELLUVA STEAK SAN’WICH.”

“Can’t be too thick. Sometimes you get a steak sandwich and there’s half-a-foot of meat in there. I don’t need that much steak. I’m not a puma.”

“AH AM A PUMA.”

“Yes, fine, you’re a puma.”

“AH ALSO PRESENT TO YOU AND YOUR WUNNERFUL FAMILY A PHOTOGRAPH OF ME AN’ MY WUNNERFUL FAMILY.”

“A lovely family you have, Elvis.”

“THASS ME IN TH’ MIDDLE. AH AM THE ONE IN TH’ CAPE.”

“Yes, I recognized you.”

“LOOK HOW GOOD AH LOOK.”

“You take care in your appearance.”

“THASS MAH LOVELY WIFE, PRISCILLA AN’ THASS MAH BEAUTIFUL BABY GIRL, LISA-MARIE.”

“You’re a lucky man, Elvis.”

“AN’ THASS MAH KNOCK-KNEED, EIGHT-TOOTHED, DRAFT-DODGIN’, GREASE-COLLECTIN’, BANJO-DICKED HOBBIT OF A DADDY–”

“Vernon.”

“–VERNON. AN’ RIGHT NEXT T’ HIM IS CHARLIE HODGE.”

“The man who brings you your scarves and water.”

“AH SWEAR YOU GOTTA MIND LIKE A BEAR TRAP, MR. PRESIDENT.”

“This is what the people don’t understand. How much detail-work this job entails, Memos, meetings, phone calls, relationships. The presidency is a juggling act, Elvis.”

“C’N YOU DO BOWLING PINS?”

“I was speaking metaphorically.”

“AS WAS AH, SIR. AH HAVE STILL MORE GIFTS FOR YOU.”

“Elvis, are you just giving me random shit from your pockets?”

“NOT ALL OF IT. THIS BOOK AH HAVE CHOSEN SPECIFICALLY FOR YOU. IT IS ON THE SECRETS OF LEMURIA.”

“Do they have oil?”

“NO, SIR.”

“Not interested. Listen, Elvis, time is growing tight. We need to get on the stick and get to the future.”

“UH-HUH. YOU KNOW WE GOT A TIME MACHINE, RIGHT? WE CAN LEAVE WHENEVER WE WANT AN’ WE WON’T BE LATE.”

“Ah, yes. Then we have time to discuss my latest gambit.”

“WE CAN GO T’ VEGAS IF YOU WANT, NIX.”

“Gambit, Elvis. There’s bad news from the waterfront.”

“AW, NO. DON’ TELL ME THEM MERCENARIES DIED!”

“Worse.”

“YOU PAID ‘EM UPFRONT, DIDN’T YOU?”

“Just half.”

“AW, MAN.”

“Nothing to worry about, Elvis.”

“NOTHIN’ TO WORRY ABOUT? MAN, WE LOST THE DAMN CHINESE, AN’ NOW WE AIN’T GOT ANY NAVY! ISS GONNA BE JUSS YOU AN’ ME.”

“No, no. I have another friend who will help us rally some truly helpful support.”

“ALL RIGHT, NIX! YOU A GREAT AMERICAN, MAN.”

“Sammy, can you talk to the blacks for me?”

“Yes, I can.”

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