Hey, Trixie. Whatcha doing?
“Holding up my dead dad’s stuff. Living the dream.”
It could be worse.
“Listen, I’m not comparing myself to a Uighur here.”
You’re doing better than the Uighurs.
“And I’m not Meghan McCain.”
In no way, shape, or form. Plus, your father wasn’t a war criminal.
“I thought McCain was a war hero.”
Fucker was on his way to blow up a power plant when he got shot down.
“My dad never blew up anything. Unless fireworks count. Jerry enjoyed a good cherry bomb same as the next guy.”
Trixie, do you think Billie Eilish is an industry plant?
“I don’t know who that is, and I don’t know what that is.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
“Is that me?”
Yes. You should take it.
“What is that, one of those WASP nicknames?”
“Who is this?”
“You know damn well who it is. Many young people today, I’m told, can do an impression of my voice. The timbre, my particular locution, phrases of speech, so forth. Perhaps they do it at parties to, uh, entertain their peers. Nixon has always had an identifiable sound.”
“Uh-huh. I was gonna ask you how you got that number, but then I realized how many other questions I have.”
“Trixie. Trixie. Nonsense. If it weren’t an election year, I’d have your parents arrested. Roughed up, maybe. The liberals frown on those sorts of actions nowadays, but it keeps the world honest. A good beating would do most of the world quite well. Quite well. I learned this playing football. Nixon was not the biggest, not the strongest, but by God I was the toughest.”
“Why are you calling me, Richard Nixon?”
“I was looking for Elvis.”
“That is his last name. Some refer to him as ‘The King.’ Not an official title. He’s of common blood, incredibly common.”
“I don’t know Elvis.”
“Dammit, this is Ziegler’s fault.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER DO THAT
“Excuse me. Dickhead?”
“Yeah. I did not enjoy that and it’s not gonna happen again.”
Sorry, Ms. Garcia.
“You need to learn about boundaries.”
I sincerely apologize.