THE OVAL OFFICE – THIS MORNING
“…and this morning at nine o’clock Pyongyang time, the North Korean government sent out a communique calling Vice-President Pence–and I’m quoting–a dog that wishes to lick its own dick, but cannot due to the smallness of the dick. The translators said that was as close as they could get to the meaning.”
“The Vice-President is being treated very unfairly. That’s funny, but very unfair. Write that line down. I’m gonna tweet it out about Hillary, who many people have told me has a dick. Probably why I beat her so badly in an Electoral College win that no one saw coming. I said I would win, but no one agreed with me, which is why there were so many spies in the campaign. Lot of spies!”
“Mr. President–”
“Y’know what? I can’t look at the mustache, Bolton. Turn around. Face the wall.”
BELLIGERENT, HIRSUTE MAN TURNING TOWARDS THE WALL NOISE
“Better. Clean-shaven! All my life, even though I could grow maybe the greatest, thickest beards that anyone’s ever seen. Sylvester Stallone, who is a good friend, he always says that. ‘Mr. Trump, I would love to see you with a beard and I know that it would be spectacular.’ He says that, and he was Rambo. Bolty, you know Rambo?”
“Yes, I know–”
“Vietnam, Afghanistan. Rambo goes and wins. Got the machine gun, shirt off, the whole thing. Very strong. How many Rambos do we have in the military? Do we have a Rambo brigade?”
“I don’t think we–”
“I’m gonna cancel! I was gonna do it, and everyone knows it, because we are being treated very rough. Very rough, and we’re gonna walk away. I knew I was gonna cancel before I did, but now I am. Cancel!”
“Sir, maybe you–”
“Bolton, out! Get out. I need my General. Where’s my General?”
“Here.”
“General?”
“I’ve been in the room for 90 minutes, sir.”
“General?”
“You’re looking in your desk drawer, Mr. President. I’m too big to–”
“General?”
…
“Oh, there you are.”
“Yes, sir?”
“I knew where you were. General, I think Bolton’s mustache is a spy.”
“I would have to disagree, sir.”
“Sent by Obama! He still runs the FBI and he’s sending mustache-spies after me.”
“There’s no such thing as a mustache-spy, sir.”
“I canceled! Canceled, done, we’re not doing that. The North Korea thing, not gonna do it. Canceled.”
“Yes, sir. I was sitting six feet away from you when you did it.”
“We should tweet this out.”
ILL-FITTING SUIT POCKET-PATTING NOISE
“I left my phone at Burger King.”
“Oh, God.”
“It’s okay. They’ll hold it for me. They know me there. Not blacks! Mostly Puerto Ricans at the Burger King I like, and that’s weird. Burger King is irresistible to blacks. Most people think Popeye’s because of the fried chicken, but blacks love Burger King. Not too many at the one I go to, though. Right amount. Just the right amount of blacks.”
“I’ll send the Secret Service to get your phone.”
“And a Whopper. Make it two. One for you.”
“No, thank you, sir.”
“French toast sticks?”
“No.”
“Get me French toast sticks. Extra syrup packets. Make sure they look in the bag and count the syrup! They try to jew you out of your syrup. Okay, we’ll just have to use your phone.”
“My phone doesn’t have Twitter, sir. Why don’t we write a letter?”
PAD BEING PRODUCED NOISE
“Letter, excellent. Like back in the old days. Obama never sent letters. I’ve heard he was completely illiterate. Sean Hannity is sure of it. He has videotape of Obama trying to read and he just can’t do it. Not a bright man. We should say something about the Mexicans in the letter. They’re pouring in. Pouring. Buses and buses of these animals, and all of them rape. 91% of Mexicans rape, General. Can you believe that? Big on rape, the Mexicans.”
“Sir, we should try to keep the letter to one topic.”
“Which is?”
“North Korea, sir.”
“I canceled!”
…
“Okay, let’s just get started. How about ‘Dear President Kim.'”
“Too casual. Y’know, this is why I’m President and you’re General. Although I could have been a great, great general. The guns, the uniforms, all of that. I would have been the top soldier, I think and many people agree with that. Address it to Your Galactic Omniprescence; First in War, Love, and Golf; Stallion of the Heavenly Grasslands; Installer of Water Parks, and Nemesis of Death.”
“I’m gonna shave that down a bit.”
“Sure, great, whatever. Finesse it. Okay, write this down: You have been very, very unfair to me and not lived up to your side of the bargain, which was to get rid of all your nuclear weapons without us giving you anything, which I know you agreed to because all the Friends on Fox & Friends nodded when I said that you did when I called in the other day and got them the best ratings. When Trump calls in, the ratings are through the roof, right through the roof, and later the Friends call me and they thank me and that’s a huge, huge compliment to me, I think. You got that?”
“Most of it.”
“Okay, I got more. Little Fatty Chopsticks, we have the most deadly, beautiful nuclear weapons in the world. They are so shiny and I hope that we never have to shoot them at you, even though we would definitely hit you because you’re such a good target because you’re so fat. That’s good. You write that down, General?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Is my Whopper here yet?”
“Let’s just push through, sir.”
“Sure, sure, letter, okay. You wanna run this by Lou Dobbs? I could put him on speaker.”
“No, sir.”
“Okay, here’s more: It is so sad that you have thrown away this wonderful chance at peace that I brought you, and you owe me $3 million for the commemorative coins.”
“Got it. I’ll polish it up and release it after we tell our embassies.”
“No, no, just release it. Have it be a surprise. Diplomacy is all about surprises.”
“Yes, sir.”
“General?”
“I’ll check on the French toast sticks, sir.”
“Great, great, perfect, great.”
“Ah, Jeez. Sorry, Bruce.”
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