CELL PHONE NOISE
“Goddammit. A Pulitzer Prize winner doesn’t deserve this treatment. Hello?”
“Patient presented with, urrrrrp, severe non-inebriation. Advised a handle of Maker’s Mark IV push. Also the pills I had in my pocket by mouth.”
“Hello, Dr. Jackson.
“Why is my dictaphone talking back?”
“Dictaphone?”
“Oh, yeah. I’m old school. I still test for diabetes by drinking piss. Why are you talking, dictaphone?”
“Because you’re so wasted you called Maggie Haberman instead of speaking into your obsolete recording device.”
“Ah, fuck. Are you the hot one with the glasses?”
“No, that’s Katy Tur.”
“Is she there? She seems like a party girl.”
“No, Katy Tur is not in my house at three in the morning.”
“That’s a shame. I don’t know what you look like. Describe your caboose.”
“How the hell were you the White House doctor for ten years?”
“Well, I don’t know if you follow politics–”
“I do.”
“–but the President hasn’t needed a doctor in ten years. You saw Dubya and Obama. If they weren’t so busy, they would have done marathons.”
“They do both seem like that type, yeah.”
“Healthy as horses. Speaking of which, hang on a sec.”
SHNORRRRRRF
“Whoa, Nelly!”
“What the hell was that?”
“Horse tranquilizer.”
“Doctor Jackson.”
“Call me Doc Ronny!”
“Wow, does that sound untrustworthy. So you’re saying your skills weren’t required for years.”
“And I just kinda stayed out of the way. But I made friends. You know what they say about that: to have a friend, you have to be a friend.”
“True.”
“Or have a prescription pad. You would not believe how popular one of those suckers can make you. So, you know, I would supply key people and they would make sure no one ever noticed how fucked up I was. It was a win-win situation.”
“No one is winning there!”
“And I’d keep some fun around. Come down to the office and maybe your day’s running sluggish and maybe I gave you a ‘B12 shot.'”
“Uh-huh.”
“Did you hear how I pronounced ‘B12 shot’ with quotation marks around it?”
“I did.”
“Enough speed to kill a komodo dragon.”
“I got what you were saying.”
“Rahm Emmanuel came by every day. He made me shoot it in his neck while he yelled at his own finger nub. He called it weak. Rahm had a lot of anger in him.”
“I’ve been screamed at by him before. So tell me about your relationship with the President.”
“So good. So, so, so good. Maybe the fittest man I’ve ever given a physical to.”
“Were you drunk when you were giving the physical?”
“Out of my mind. Had to grab onto his tits a couple times to keep from falling down.”
“Trump didn’t notice?”
“Fun fact: the President has no feeling in his torso.”
“I did not know that. I don’t think I wanted to know that.”
“You can shove pins in his belly, whip him, whatever. I’m gonna write a journal article about it.”
“Okay, so he offered you the Veteran’s Administration job.”
“Oh, is that what VA stands for?”
“Jesus.”
“Honest to God? I thought he was making me the governor of Virginia for like a week.”
“Why did you accept the job?”
“I live in Virginia. It would be an easier commute.”
“Sure.”
“Plus–”
“You were plastered.”
“–I was plastered. Yeah. Like the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, but with only one penis. I was flying high that day. Polished off a case of Coors Banquet.”
“I thought they only sold that in Colorado?”
“They do. I had a C130 fly some back for me.”
“How much did that cost?”
“A lot! But I don’t know if you’ve noticed: this administration has a laissez-faire attitude towards expense reports.”
“I have noticed. Everyone’s noticed.”
“So, yeah: Doc Ronny was all beered up. And a valium suppository. You ever try one of those?”
“No.”
“Treat yourself. Trust me.”
“Are you saying this entire time you’ve been nominated for Secretary of the VA, you’ve been on a bender?”
“I’m not saying that, but that is the reality of the situation, yes.”
“Tight ship over there.”
“It’s a great place to work.”
“Why are you speaking in the present tense?”
“I’m staying on. President’s doctor is a great gig. Plus, my office is such a mess; I couldn’t bear to think about moving it.”
“Real tight ship.”
“Maggie, you want any zoomers?”
“No.”
“Boomers?”
“No.”
“Baby bloomers?”
“I’m hanging up.”
“Wait!”
“What?”
“I can get pharmaceutical cocaine.”
DIAL TOME NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE
“pharmaceutical cocaine.” would explain the sniffling on FOX and Friends.
The man is hepped up on goofballs.
the B12
“Dethrone the dictaphone, hit it in its funnybone, that’s where they expect it least”
Let’s get back on the Dead Train. Please. Your satire destroys your fiction.
The exits are clearly marked.