Close To The Vest

I don’t understand what I’m looking at.

“I’m disrupting life preservers.”

I wish I still didn’t understand.

“You ever see life preservers? Terrible looking things. First of all: the color.”

Bright orange? That’s for visibility.

“Dude, Instagram is for visibility. Life preservers are for telling the world, ‘Hey, I’m on a boat, but I’m also responsible.’ They’re like the condoms of the sea.”

Is it actually buoyant?

“Sexist.”

Not boy. Buoy.

“Like, does it float?”

Yes.

“God, no. That would ruin the line. This is made from reclaimed denim.”

Reclaimed?

“Those smelly-looking dudes from Online Ceramics stole some folks’ pants in the lot.”

Sure. Josh?

“Uh-huh?”

CELL PHONE NOISE

“You’re a little, little, little man.”

And yet in this universe, I am a god. Pick up the phone.

“Do you want to see my old-school flip phone? It’s so retro.”

Just answer the phone.

…

“Hey, this is John Mayer. Check out my new single on Spotify until I get METOO’ed and they remove my songs.”

“I know you’re the leaker, Jewboy.”

“Not a Jew. And…what?”

“You’re the leaker. Leakier than an old man’s dickhole. I’ll get you, Jew Mayer.”

“I cannot state this more unequivocally: I am not Jewish.”

“Don’t lie to me. I can sniff a Jew out like a ham hock.”

“Can we move past the accusations of Semiticism?”

“Don’t use your elitist words on me. I know you’re leakin’ secrets from the White House. You were the one who told the press we were calling Senator McCain ‘John McBraintumor.'”

“I wasn’t. And that’s not even funny.”

“No, leaks aren’t funny. We work long hours in this White House–”

“Except for one of you.”

“–tryin’ to make America great again but all you wanna do is make America synthwave again. I do not understand that swoopy music, and it frightens me.”

“Well, it’s based on movie scores from the–”

“KEEP YOUR JEWISH EXPLANATIONS TO YOURSELF, DREIDEL-FACE!”

“Again: I am a Christian.”

“You’re a Christian?”

“Yes!”

“Prove it. Tell me who you hate.”

“Wow.”

“Last chance, pretty boy. Knock off the leaks or you get the thunder.”

“Okay.”

“One more thing.”

“What?”

“You got Forest Whitaker’s phone number?”

“I could get it. Why?”

“Something about that man does it for me.”

“Something?”

“One specific thing.”

“Uh-huh.”

“No more warnings. And definitely don’t tell no one we got voodoo dolls of Lindsey Graham that we put into sexual positions with Ken dolls.”

TEXT NOTIFICATION FROM AN UNSECURED PHONE NOISE

“Goshdarnit!”

“What happened?”

“The voodoo doll thing leaked.”

“Tight ship you’re running over there, Huck.”

“Got my eye on you.”

“Which one? I can’t tell.”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DON’T DO THAT ANY MORE

“I truly never want to speak to her again.”

Hey, man: I’m not in charge around here.