ROOSEVELT ROOM – MORNING
“This is so very great and wonderful to be here with you, the vets, who make this country so great and wonderful even though Andrew Cuomo says America is a shithole. Real jerk, that guy. Dad was a jerk and so is he. Whole family, no good. Doesn’t have the genes! Very important, genes, and they just don’t have them. He’s no Ivanka. I’ll tell you that. Definitely no Ivanka. Where’s Ivanka?”
“She’s not here, Mr. President.”
“Ivanka?”
“You’re looking out the window. She’s not out there.”
“Vonky-Tonk?”
“You’re yelling into your wallet, sir. She wouldn’t fit in there.”
“General?”
“No, sir. It’s me, Omarosa.”
“Where’s Meatloaf?”
“We’re not doing The Apprentice, sir. You’re the President of the United States now.”
“Of course I am, because I beat Hillary Clinton, who the entire lying, failing media thought would win, very badly in the Electoral College. Tough to win the Electoral College, but I went to Wharton so I know something about colleges. Better grades than Hillary, too, much better. I was getting A’s and she was doing lesbian stuff. I hear this from everyone! Lesbian in secret, and that would explain her ankles.”
“Sir.”
“Couldn’t get both your hands around one of Hillary’s ankles! Not so the fingers would touch. Thick around, and I have very large hands. Trouble finding gloves to fit them.”
“Sir.”
“Does Wendy’s make popcorn chicken?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Bad decision. What’s his name? Orphan boy who owns the place?”
“Dave Thomas, sir, but he’s dead.”
“Probably because of the popcorn chicken thing. Okay, what are we doing?”
“Sir, these are some representatives from veteran’s groups.”
“We love our vets! You guys see what I’m doing with the NFL? The blacks attack you, but I defend our vets. Not you, Omarosa.”
“I know, sir.”
“The bad blacks.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Great, great, beautiful, let’s get these vets everything they need. You. Who are you?”
“Mr. President, my name is Bob Sanchez and I’m from the American Legion.”
“Terrific work you people do. The desert and the hats and all. Very special and wonderful.”
“Desert?”
“You march around the desert. All of you were disgraced. You got the hats with the flaps in the back.”
…
“I think you’re talking about the French Foreign Legion, sir.”
“Good enough. Legion’s a legion. I was right, right?”
“Um.”
“We have a deal.”
“What?”
“You, who are you?”
“Good morning, Mr. President. My name is Arnold Longines and I represent the Veterans of Foreign Wars.”
“Obama wars?”
“What?”
“Obama started many, many, many wars. Some people say we’ll never know how many wars he started. Could be dozens. Probably dozens. Dozens. Obama started dozens of wars.”
“He actually didn’t, sir.”
“You are fake news.”
“I’m surprised it took so long for that to come out.”
“Next! Who are you?”
“Sir, I’m Pat Bucholz and I’m with the Vietnam Veterans of America.”
“Great, great. Great war. Big win for us. Very impressive war.”
“Not a win, sir.”
“Well, no, not with that attitude. Omarosa, I told you not to bring me any vets from loser wars.”
“I’m sorry, sir, could you say that into my purse?”
“Looooooser war. Very sad. Bucky?”
“Are you talking to me, sir?”
“Yeah, Bucky. I gave you a nickname like whatshisface. The drunk with the uggo wife. The dumb one. There’s been a lot of dumb presidents, but not any longer. Nice to have someone smart in the Oval Office, right? A lot of people say I’m a genius, which no one said about Obama. They just said he was black. No offense, Omarosa.”
“None taken, sir.”
“Bad blacks and good blacks. Big difference. Speaking of which, where’s the popcorn chicken?”
“Working on it, sir.”
“Wonderful, tasty, beautiful. Okay, Bucky: what’s your problem? You knock up a lady-san or something?”
“No, sir.”
“They love you long time. Remember that? ‘Me love you long time.’ Funny. The whore comes over and says the thing. Love you long time. I bet you made your way through Saigon, huh?”
“Not really, sir.”
“They’re horizontal down there.”
“They’re not, sir.”
“C’mon, c’mon: you know they’re horizontal down there, I know they’re horizontal down there, everyone knows it. And the tits aren’t great. Whole continent! No good tits over there.”
“Sir, I was actually here today to speak to you about the ongoing effects of Agent Orange.”
“What did you call me?”
“No, sir. The chemical. It was used as a defoliant.”
“Gooooooood morning, Vietnam! Remember that? Robin Williams. Killed himself. I would never kill myself because I’m not weak. Great movie. He’s telling jokes and doing his voices. Bruno Kirby was in that. Good friend of mine, Bruno Kirby. Omarosa, call Bruno Kirby and invite him to the White House.”
“He died ten years ago.”
“Invite his wife.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Bucky, who was Agent Orange? Was he a Special Forces guy?”
“No, sir. It was the name of a chemical.”
“He used a chemical? What, he threw it on Charlie? In his face? I gotta tell you: that’s not gonna be very effective. They can squint up real fast. Never seen squinters like those people. It’s, like, instantaneous. Eyes open, eyes closed. Eyes open, eyes closed. And here’s something most people don’t know: not really named Charlie.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t even know if they could pronounce ‘Charlie.’ You can’t put the ‘r’ and the ‘l’ so close together and expect Vietnamese people to pronounce it right. Not their name!”
“Sir, many people are still suffering from sicknesses brought on by Agent Orange.”
“Ohhhh. So he was like Typhoid Mary.”
“No, sir. Again: Agent Orange was not a person.”
“No, not officially. Makes sense there wouldn’t be any paperwork. Agent Orange works in the shadows.”
“Jesus.”
“Is it time for the prayer? Great, wonderful, let’s do it.”
TABLE OF PEOPLE BOWING THEIR HEADS NOISE
TAPE RECORDER WHIRRING IN THE SILENCE NOISE
“What’s that sound?”
“Probably your popcorn chicken being delivered, sir.”
“Oh, great, wonderful, chicken.”
(I can’t make this shit up.)
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