Hey, President Obama. Whatcha doing?

“Living my best life. You see this smile? I, uhhhh, thought I lost this smile. Turns out it was just hiding for eight years.”

You look happy.

“Y’know, every day I wake up, face Mecca, say my prayers, and then I realize I’m not the President any more, and I just start smiling. Seriously, look at this sucker. Can’t even see my eyes. I’m thrilled from morning to night to be rid of you ungrateful bastards. And Hillary.”

Uh-huh.

“When Gore got hosed, he had the dignity to go away for a few years and grow a beard.”

You think Hillary should grow a beard?

“Sure, why not, who gives a shit? Barry’s on his world tour and your problems are your own.”

Where are you, sir?

“New Zealand. Never got a chance to get here when I was in the White House.”

Why not?

“It’s, uhhhh, completely irrelevant in a geopolitical sense. The President goes to important countries.”

Like Saudi Arabia?

“Very important place. Without Saudi Arabia, we wouldn’t have the Freedom Tower.”

Jesus. That was a little dark.

“Yeah, I’ve stopped monitoring my sense of humor so closely in the past year. The Big O says what’s on his mind.”

The Big O?

“And, uhhhh, I’m calling myself The Big O.”

Sure. How is New Zealand?

“Like Australia, but not.”

Sounds right.

“I’ll give this to New Zealand, though: when you go to Australia, they make you hold their vile little creatures. You get off the plane: boom, someone chucks a wombat at you. Every time you turn around: ‘Mr. President, hold this quokka.’ Goddammit, I don’t wanna hold your pouch-rat. Now, New Zealand? Here, they just do scary dancing at you. Big muscle guys give you the gasface for a minute or two, and then you’re free to enjoy yourself.”

That does sound better.

“You can’t go ten minutes. ‘Here’s a wallaby.’ Get it away from me. Weird people.”

Yes, sir. Mr. President?

“Yeah?”

Please come back.

“Not gonna happen.”