CELL PHONE NOISE
“Motherfucker. Motherfuckers motherfucking fucking mothers in Motherfucker City. Three a.m. Every motherfucking night with these motherfuckers. What!?”
“Hey, Maggie. It’s Sean Spicer.”
“Sean? Why are you calling? You quit or got fired or whatever a month ago.”
“You’re right, but today’s my last day.”
“Does anything work normally in that building anymore?”
“If I told you, you’d never sleep again.”
“I don’t sleep now because all of you wretches, fumblers, and drunkards calling me all goddamned night. Have you been going in to work this whole time?”
“Going in? I haven’t left my office in a month. I got my mini-fridge, and I stole an oven from one of the messes. Couple brewskis, make myself some nachos. Got my brother’s Netflix password. It’s Spice World in here.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Living the life!”
“Why haven’t you been going home?”
“My family looks at me with shame in their eyes.”
“Sure.”
“This is better, honestly. It’s like I live in the White House. You ever read From the Mixed-Up Files of Basil E. Frankweiler? It’s like that. Ooh, or Eloise.”
“You’re not Eloise, Sean. You’re a 45-year-old ginger who’s living in his office.”
“And working. Still working to spread the President’s message and policies.”
“Really?”
“Maggie, just because I was publicly humiliated to the point where everyone started to feel bad for me doesn’t mean I’m not a terrible, terrible person.”
“Right.”
“MAGA, Maggie.”
“Sure.”
“Take just today, for example. I advised Jared Kushner that the President should blame antifa for the hurricane.”
“Yup, that’s terrible. Wait. Jared Kushner is your buddy now?”
“We are super-tight. Guy loves me. Keeps asking for my autograph.”
“Huh?”
“Says he loves my signature. Goes on and on about how great it is. Makes me sign it on all different sorts of paper.”
“You probably want to stop doing that, Sean.”
“He tells me all about the rabbits, Maggie.”
“It’s a real circular firing squad over there, isn’t it?”
“Things are tense. Sometimes, the President just howls. Like a betrayed wolf. Sound goes right through your soul. Maggie, can I be honest with you?”
“First time for everything.”
“I think…and, gosh, this is so tough to say…I think he could be doing a little better.”
“Y’think?”
“Don’t get me wrong! 95% of the President’s problems are caused by the lying media. Or Obama holdovers. Or Jeff Flake. Or the weather. Or the Deep State.”
“So: anyone but him?”
“Basically. Do you know that Obama not only pardoned Charles Manson, but sent Air Force One to pick him up from jail?”
“None of that is true.”
“It is. One of the President’s sons told me.”
“Which one?”
“The ugly one.”
“You’ll have to be more specific, Sean.”
“Hey, you in Washington?”
“Yes.”
“You wanna come over? I’ll give you a special tour.”
“I’ve seen the White House, Sean.”
“But have you seen the ceiling of my office?”
“Annnnnnd there it is. Good night.”
“Don’t tell the Pope I said that.”
DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE
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