I’ve Made A Huge Mistake

“Saudi Arabian Jenkins!”

“Yes, Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman?”

“I think I fucked up.”

“I didn’t want to say, sir.”

“It’s not fair! Putin kills journalists constantly. I kill one little asshole and everyone loses their minds!”

“The world conspires against your beneficence, O Scourge of the Infidels.”

“But it’s not looking good, Jenkins.”

“Nooooo.”

“The janitors walking in with the mops and buckets? That was bad optics.”

“Off-brand visuals. Yes, sir.”

“Not to mention the fucking recordings of the actual murder.”

“That was a bad beat, Your Mellifluousness. Who could have foreseen that an embassy would be bugged?”

“Man, Turkey got those tapes out in a hurry, didn’t they? The body wasn’t even cold. And, you know: it was chopped into little pieces. You lose a lot of heat that way.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Turkey’s piiiiiiiissed.”

“Big time.”

“My hand to Allah, I thought they’d be cool with it.”

“Perhaps it was a tactical error to not run it by them, Protector Of The Koran Who Dances Among The Suras Like A Lithe Young Boy.”

“Next time. Lesson learned! What are our options going forward? What about more murder?”

“No, sir.”

“Don’t dismiss it outright. Sometimes the problem is that you haven’t killed enough people. Maybe one won’t do it this go-round.”

“No, Your Wholesomeness. We must not kill anyone right now.”

“What about Yemenis? Can we still keep killing Yemenis?”

“Oh, of course. No one gives a shit about them. I meant that we can’t kill anyone who works for the Washington Post.”

“What about the Times? What if I had the Op-Ed page of the Times murdered?”

“No, sir.”

“I’d be doing the world a favor, Jenkins.”

“You would, sir. Praise your generosity which flows from you like boysenberry syrup over a short stack of buttermilk pancakes.”

“I regret allowing IHOP to open up in Riyadh. It’s all you talk about.”

“Sir, you know I spit on the American devil.”

PTOO

PTOO

“But he makes an incredible breakfast.”

“What about a body double?”

“Of whom, Your Gloriosity?”

“Khashoggi. The pain-in-the-ass. And, you, know, that’s another thing: no one understands how terrible that man was.”

“A monster spawned in hell, if we have one in Islam.”

“A Djinni”

“Oh, sure, let’s go with that.”

“The man wrote mean things about me!”

“No one is saying he did not get what he deserved. At least, they’re not saying it in front of you.”

“Anyway, we get a body double. Someone who looks like him.”

“I feel we’re veering into wacky sitcom territory here, sir.”

“Scour the streets for a man who looks like Khashoggi. We’ll present him to the world! We’ll say he was mugged or something on the way into the embassy and hit on the head and wandered off, but now we’ve found him and he’s safe. No harm, no foul.”

“This will not work, O Quencher Of Thirst.”

“Why not?”

“The tapes of him being murdered, for one.”

“We’ll say it was a prank.”

“Second of all, once we produce the body double…then what? Do we send him home to Khashoggi’s family?”

“No problem. We just–”

“Don’t say that we murder his family.”

“–murder his family, too. Whyyyyyy?”

“I cannot begin to describe how counter-productive murdering his family would be right now.”

“How about he’s hiding in the closet and won’t come out? And, you know, we’ve tried yelling but it didn’t work.”

“No one will buy that, sir. The whole world knows that Khashoggi is dead.

“What if we say it was an accident?”

“An accident, sir?”

“We’ll say that he was eaten. We have a tiger in the embassy, and the tiger got loose and ate him. People will believe that. Keeping a tiger in an embassy is a very Saudi move.”

“I can totally see us doing something like that, but it’s a non-starter.”

“Can we blame it on someone else? What about the Jews?”

“I do enjoy blaming things on them, O Comfortable Blanket Of Mercy. But I don’t think so.”

“Illuminati?”

“No.”

“Islaminati?”

“Is that real?”

“I don’t know. Torture some people and find out.”

“Your will be done. What about we pin it on someone else in royal family?”

“Brand your tongue with the hot balls of camels, boy! How dare you speak of the House of Saud in such disrespectful tones! I’m closing the IHOP!”

“No, sir! Punish me, but don’t punish my taste buds! Plus, we can’t afford to piss off any more American companies right now.”

“Well, you’re banned from the place for a month. And I’m going to call over and speak to the manager to make sure.”

“Your kindness is beyond both language and mathematics, sir.”

“Blame it on a family member! The impudence with which you vomit up your poison, Jenkins! You filthy baby girl! I rebuke you harshly!”

…

“But it we were to go with your idea…Ahmed would be my choice.”

“Excellent selection, O Palatial Soul.”

“I mean, he’s got better falcons than me. What the fuck, right? I’m the King. I’m supposed to have the best falcons.”

“It is your divine right, sir.”

“We frame him for the murder. Say he was acting all on his own. Execute him. Take his falcons. This is a win-win, Jenkins.”

“It’s a Hail Mary at best sir.”

“Hey, if they don’t like it, I’ll just switch us to the Yuan and be besties with China. Those mean bastards don’t care how many reporters you murder.”

“China don’t give a fuck.”

“Ah, shit, I have the Trump call coming up.”

“Deny everything and try to buy more fighter jets.”

“Should I mention all the blackmail I have on Jared?”

“Not necessary yet.”