Tag: junior

“Junior–”

“Dude, chill. I’m playing Fortnite.”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Do you play? What’s your screen name? Mine’s Businessman69. Because I’m a businessman. And, you know, because 69.”

“Uh-huh. Are you talking to other players on your little microphone?”

“Gotta, dude! Talking shit is, like, half the game. I talk such good shit. Sometimes, I call people fags. A lot of the time, I just scream NI–”

“Junior! Are you talking to randos in a video game about legal matters?”

“Only to people who say they’re lawyers. I’m not an idiot.”

“No, you’d have to get smarter to be an idiot. You need to stop playing that game.”

“Stop streaming on Twitch, or stop altogether?”

“You’re streaming on Twitch?”

“Me and Ninja did some team-play the other day. Broke a million viewers, bro.”

“Stop it. Stop everything you’re doing.”

“What about my vlog?”

“You vlog? About what?”

“My feelings. And I react to movie trailers.”

“I need you to get off the internet.”

“But when I call people ‘cucks’ in real life, they laugh at me!”

“Off the internet! Now, Junior, we need to talk about this new meeting that you neglected to tell me about.”

“Which one?”

“Well, first we’re going to discuss the meeting between you, the child molester who’s buddies with the Saudi princes, the guy with his own private army, and someone who was almost certainly an Israeli spy.”

“Oh, that meeting.”

“Yes. Can you tell me what happened in the meeting?”

“I’ll try. I think the Saudi guy was all like, ‘Oh, dude, the princes love your dad so much, he’s so awesome and powerful and we hate Hillary because she kills hitchhikers, and we want your dad to win and if he does we’ll give him an orb.’ I remember they said the thing about the orb because I didn’t know what an ‘orb’ was.”

“Okay.”

“Still don’t, as a matter of fact. Never looked it up.”

“Back to the meeting.”

“And whathisface, the army guy, he’s all, ‘I wanna help you crush the…crush the…’ Who do the Saudis want to crush? Sounds like ‘Bimini.'”

“The Yemenis.”

“Sounds right. I was pretty sure the Saudis didn’t have a problem with Bimini.”

“No one has a problem with Bimini.”

“I do. I got chlamydia there.”

“Focus, Junior. What about the Israeli guy?”

“Very hairy. Like, his shirt could not contain it. Came curling around his cuffs and through the buttonholes and everything.”

“What did he say?”

“He was like a hacker dude. He said he was the King of Twitter, and I was like, ‘Pssh. That’s my dad.’ And the guy was like, ‘Oh, yeah. You’re right. Besides your dad. We love your dad so much, he’s so awesome and powerful.'”

“And you didn’t think it was weird that Israel and Saudi Arabia shared an opinion?”

“Nah. Those guys have a love-hate thing going on.”

“Nope.”

“What did you say about a child molester?”

“George Nader. The guy who was representing the Saudis? Caught with child porn a bunch of times.”

“Huh. Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Girls or boys?”

“I’m not having this discussion.”

“I just wanna know how bad it was.”

“We’re moving on and I’m making a mental note to donate heavily to the first charity I find after you leave my office.”

“The Trump Foundation is legally a charity.”

“Have there been any other meetings you’re not telling me about?”

“I do not recall.”

“That’s what you say on the stand, not in here.”

“Oh, right. I forgot. Um, yes? I guess so.”

“Great. Let’s start with the foreign nationals.”

“The Nationals are from Washington.”

“Not the baseball team. I mean people from other countries. How many meetings did you have with people from other countries?”

“A bunch, I guess. We met some Venezuelans.”

“What happened there?”

“They stole all the bagels and left.”

“Sounds right.”

“I met some black guys.”

“Do you remember what country they were from?”

“I wanna say Wakanda.”

“They were not from Wakanda.”

“Zmunda?”

“Similarly fictional.”

“Rhodesia.”

“Defunct and problematic. Let’s just move on. Did you meet with any Chinese?”

“Delivery guy count?”

“Not at all.”

“Oh, wait, yeah. I had a bunch of meetings with the Chinese. Do you know they build a city every 35 minutes in China?”

“Yes.”

“They offered us one. Like, the Trump Organization would brand it.”

“And what did they want in return?”

“Nothing! They were just being generous.”

“Yeah, that’s what they’re known for.”

“We did discuss ripping up the Interstate system and having them replace it all with toll-roads.”

“There you go. Was anything actually exchanged at these meetings?”

“No.”

…

“I mean, they brought envelopes of cash, but those were gifts.”

“I quit.”

“Hey, Trumpers! Just hanging out with my maaaaaan here, whose name I forgot, but he’s fuckin’ righteous. Dudes, we got new merch in the shop and I think you’re gonna love this stuff. All new Junior Is My Homeboy tee-shirts, and–”

“Junior!”

“Hey, you’re awesome.”

“Junior, are you livestreaming our meeting?”

“Dude, Trump Team Ten demands new content.”

“I’m your lawyer, asshole. You cannot livestream meetings with your lawyer.”

“Is that, like, a YouTube term of service thing?”

PHONE SNATCHING NOISE

“Dude, my subscribers.”

“Shut up. We need to talk about your Senate testimony.”

“When am I doing that?”

“You did it already. In March.”

“If you say so. Wait, is Senate testimony when a Vietnamese lady takes care of your feet?”

“No. That’s a pedicure.”

“Then I do not recall this Senate testimony you speak of.”

“You were in a big building full of white people, and people asked you questions you struggled to answer.”

“Dude, that’s literally every day of my life.”

“Regardless.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Lawyer. The word is irregardless.”

“Junior, you need to explain to me some of the responses you gave to the Senate. Here. This is the transcipt of the hearing.”

“Dude, that is so thick. That’s what she said!”

“Did you just ‘That’s what she said?’ yourself? You can’t do that.”

“My dad’s the president, I can do anything.”

“Just open the transcript to the first post-it note, please.”

“Dude, I really don’t wanna read. I’ve totally pivoted to video.”

“Open it!”

“DON’T HIT ME, DAD!”

…

“I almost feel sorry for you.”

“So many people say those exact words to me.”

“Open the transcript.”

“Fine.”

“Now you see there where I’ve highlighted? You were asked what you thought the meeting with the Russians was about, and you answered ‘Colluding.'”

“Uh-huh.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Reverse psychology.”

“Explain.”

“Dude, we’ve been, like, ‘No collusion’ over and over and no one will drop the investigation. So I pulled a reverse psychology on them. Instead of saying ‘No collusion,’ I said ‘Collusion,’ and they were like ‘Whaaaaaaa?’ They didn’t know whether to shit or go blind.”

“Me, neither.”

“I set a donbush. That’s like an ambush–”

“I get it.”

“–but with me.”

“Yeah.”

“Everyone calls me Junior, but my name’s Donald.”

“Okay, let’s go to the next post-it. You were asked what happened after the meeting with the Russian lawyers and you said–and I quote–‘I don’t remember what I did do, but I remember what I didn’t do, and that’s call my father. That definitely didn’t happen. No dad-calling from me at that point. Nosireebob.'”

“Uh-huh.”

“You actually said ‘Nosireebob.'”

“I’m pretty folksy once you get to know me.”

“Right. So, uh, here’s the problem: you did speak to your father after the meeting.”

“Did I?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know that?”

“You told me and provided your cell phone records. You also recorded the conversation.”

“I always do that when I’m talking to Dad. Sometimes he sounds proud of me, and I edit those bits together to listen to in the gym. Pumps me up.”

“Junior.”

“You lift?”

“Junior.”

“Blasting back and bi’s today. You wanna come? Black your back and bi’s?”

…

“You lied to the Senate, Junior.”

“In my defense, several of those Senators look Jewish.”

“You cannot lie to the Senate.”

“What, like there’s a law against it?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Several. It is very, very illegal to lie to the Senate during a hearing.”

“Huh. Throw it on the pile, I guess.”

“Listen to me: no statements. Stay out of sight. Get off of social media.”

“Even Tinder?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re on Tinder?”

“Dude, hooked up with this hottie last week. Chinese chick. She had the eyes, the weird pubes, the whole package. And she was, like, really from China.”

“A Chinese citizen?”

“I didn’t see her passport. She had an accent, though. We did it two-and-a-half times.”

“Two-and-a-half?”

“My dad called and I couldn’t get it up anymore.”

“Sure.”

“She was really knowledgeable about US politics, though. Kept asking me all these questions.”

“Uh-huh. What was her name?”

“She said it was Honey Pott.”

“I quit.”

“Leave the ice cream where it is, Junior.”

“Five second rule!”

“No, that doesn’t apply to soft-serve ice cream. Where did you even get that?”

“My other lawyer’s office.”

“How many lawyers did you see today?”

“Five? Six? Wait. Does it count if they’re not lawyers in America? Like they were from another–”

“STOP TALKING. I don’t wanna hear it! I am just your divorce attorney. Please don’t mention any other cases you may or may not have going on.”

“Do you have any dirt on Hillary Clinton?”

“Junior, let’s talk about the divorce. You have five children.”

“Yeah, they’re great kids. There’s Junior, Jr., Donaldina. Uh. Tall girl. Oh, one of ’em smells real weird. And I think the fifth is named Snow Shovel.”

“I’m almost positive your kid’s name is not Snow Shovel.”

“It’s something. I know my wife gave him a name. She’s real good with the kids like that: they all got names, and hands, and everything.”

“She sounds wonderful. What about custody?”

“It’s too rich and sweet for me.”

“Not custard, Junior. Custody. Who gets the kids.”

“Can we give them to Batman?”

“No.”

“But they’d be Robins!”

“No.”

“Fine. I’ll take them.”

“You want custody of your children? You want to take care of them?”

“Sure. One question.”

“Is the question ‘How do you take care of a child?'”

…

“Are you a psychic? If you’re a psychic, you have to tell me. That’s the law.”

“Let’s circle back to the custody. How many houses do you own?”

“Well, let’s see. There’s the White House…”

“You don’t own the White House.”

“It’s a Trump Organization property.”

“Besides the White House.”

“Like, three or four?”

“Is it three or four?”

“Are we counting treehouses?”

“Do you live in it?”

“I go there when I get sad.”

“We’re not counting it.”

“I don’t know. Three or four. I don’t have, like, too many houses. Just enough. I have the right amount of houses.”

“What about cars?”

“I liked the second one the best. Mater’s funny.”

“Not the movie Cars, Junior. Automobiles. How many do you own?”

“I have a Jeep. Sometimes, when I’m too sad even for the treehouse, I’ll put on a flannel and drive out to the woods to sit on a stump.”

“We’ve all seen the picture.”

“And I have a Mercedes, which is a business car, because I am a businessman.”

“Okay.”

“And I have a Lada. Cutest little sucker.”

“A Lada? Why the hell would you have a Lada?”

“A Russian oligarch gave it to me as a gift after we–”

“STOP TALKING.”

“It’s a funny story! We were in Dubai, and–”

“Shut up! Just talk to me about the divorce! Nothing else.”

“I still wanna pick up my ice cream.”

“Leave the ice cream on the floor, dammit. What about alimony?”

“My wife doesn’t know about Alimony.”

“Is Alimony a stripper?”

“No. She’s a feature dancer.”

“Uh-huh.”

“That means she’s the star.”

“The money, Junior. What are we going to do about the money?”

“The money? Oh, right. Wait, hold on. I want to–”

PAPER UNFOLDING NOISE

“–‘give that bitch wife of yours everything so that cocksucker Mueller can’t come after it.'”

PAPER REFOLDING NOISE

“That is what I want.”

“Goddamn you, Junior.”

INTERCOM NOISE

“Sir, there’s a phone call for you.”

“Is it Robert Mueller?”

“How did you guess?”

“I’m a psychic.”

“I knew it!”

“Shut up, Junior.