OHMIGOD look how gorgeous you are.

“Thank you for saying so.”

Not you, jackass.

“Gotta admit my skin looks great.”

Can we concentrate on the baby? Where’d you get a baby?

“I got a baby guy.”

That’s not a thing.

“Sure. Guy’s name is Benjamin Babeez. 13-year-old kid from Boca Raton. You need a baby, and he gets you the greatest baby. Kid has great taste in babies.”

I don’t believe this.

“Sometimes, I’ll call and just know what type of baby I want: it’s a Mexican baby kind of day. But a lot of the time, it’s an Omakase deal. Omakase is a Japanese term meaning ‘Feed me the fish that’s about to go bad.'”

I know what it means.

“Kid’s amazing. Gets babies no one else can get you. He was the first to offer Zika babies. They are so hot right now.”

Dude.

“They are literally limited edition.”

…

CELL PHONE NOISE.

“WHAT? What did I say!?”

You live wrong.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I’m not picking up the phone.”

Pick up the phone.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I’m not picking up the phone.”

PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE, BOY.

…

“Did the baby do that?”

Yeah. Yeah, the baby did that. and next we’re going to learn that the baby is actually a werebaby, and you’re getting eaten. Pick up the phone.

“I didn’t ask for this.”

You did. You petitioned for a year to join the Dead.

“I meant whatever this is.”

Right, sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Fuck you.”

Sure.

…

“What?”

“Please hold for the President.”

“Well, that’s better than the alternative.”

“I have made America great again, John.”

“Or maybe not. Hey, President Katytuchas.”

“Don’t call me things in Yiddish, John. I have ascended to glory, and realized my true purpose.”

“And that is?”

“America needs a Queen, John.”

“Don’t you already think you’re the President?”

“All presidents thought they were the President.”

“Yes, but so did the rest of the world. That’s kind of what makes you in charge.”

“I am in charge, John. The nuclear football is safe. Also, I took the nuclear football out of the briefcase it was in and put it in a Birkin bag.”

“Ostrich?”

“No, those are for poor people. Mine are made from puma.”

“Wow.”

“So supple. And now the bag is as deadly as the animal it was made out of.”

“Poetry. Katy?”

“President Mrs. Katy Jean Hudson-Perry-Brand-McKay-Stamos, thank you.”

“I’m not saying that. Can I hazard a guess that you’ve reconnected with Doctor Gary?”

“Hold on, John. Jenkins! Get in here!”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“Do the exposition for Doctor Gary.”

“The two-time Nobel winning chemist with terrifying racial theories and a voracious appetite for shoplifting that was drummed out of the Academy and now pays his massive gambling debts working as a Shaman to the Stars?”

“Yes, him. Good work, Jenkins.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.”

“Now get out.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

…

“I’m the President of the United States, John: I can’t be expected to do the exposition.”

“Jenkins works for you now?”

“Doctor Gary is back, John! I have forgiven him for his many, many sins against me and given him a White House pass.”

“How’s that going?”

“He has moved in.”

“Yeah.”

“There is also something called a “Soup” living in the presidential limo.”

“Ignore him. Katy, you can’t let Doctor Gary live in the White House, if that’s even where you are.”

“I am the Leader of the Free World, John, and I live at 1600 White House Way–”

“Nope.”

“–and I have the Nuclear Birkin Bag, so if I want to let Doctor Gary crash in the Lincoln Bedroom, than that’s my prerogative. Although, he did immediately list the place on Airbnb.”

“Saw that coming.”

“He’s not a bad guy, John. Plus, he has created a new syntheogenadelic, the most American one yet. It’s called Bald Eagle.”

“What is it?”

“A juiced bald eagle. But we add fruit, so they’re like smoothies.”

“And that gets you high?”

“John, we brave spelunkers of consciousness do not ‘get high.’ We traverse the unknown realms of metapscyholinguistics, and perform evolutions of billions of hallucinogenerations in the blink of a dilated eye.”

…

“High as shit, John.”

“I got that. What’s it like?”

“Bald Eagle? It makes you so patriotic that you’re angry.”

“That is an American high.”

“Sure. By the way, the Russians hacked us again.”

“How many times is that today?”

“Continuously. The hackings were not discrete enough to count as separate entities. It’s been an all-day thing.”

“You should have someone look into that.”

“I do! The guy is working on the computer right now. He looks familiar.”

“Oh, Goddammit.”

“Who on phone? That Hot Dog Dick?”

“Who I’m speaking to is none of your concern, Mr. Computer Person! Do your job, please.”

“Okay, lady. I need your bank account number and launch code for nuke.”

“John, I have to go.”

“NO, THAT’S KIM-JON–”

DIAL TONE NOISE EVEN THOUGH PHONES DO NOT DO THAT ANY MORE

What the fuck is this?

“Facial care Snapcast.”

Snapcast?

“Snapchat podcast.”

We’re living in the future, and it’s annoying as hell.

…

345 bucks?

“It’s got diamonds in it!”

You’re a putz, you know that? Buy some goddamned Neutrogena.

“Then I’d have to get the diamonds separately and mix them in. Time consuming.”

Sure.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“I hate you.”

You had to see this coming.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“You sure that’s not your phone?”

No, my ring tone is Garcia soloing.

“Ow.”

Pick up the phone.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Have I told you I hate you?”

Have I told you to pick up the phone?

…

“Weir here.”

“This not Bob. I know voice. My bro play joke.”

“Not your bro.”

“Kim Jong-Un, Josh Meyer: hang dai.”

“I’ve told you to stop speaking Cantonese, dammit.”

“Ooh, face look good. T-zone is dry. Not shiny. Good face, Josh Meyer. Father invent face.”

“Gee, thanks. I’ve been refining my facial regimen for years now andWAIT A MINUTE.”

“Excellent comedy take, bro.”

“Can you see me? And don’t say ‘Don’t worry about it.'”

“I see my bro.”

“How?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I told you not to say that.”

“You have forehead of a 32-year-old.”

“THANK you! People don’t notice, and it drives meSTOP DOING THAT.”

“Cant help it. So handsome and strong, my bro.”

“This needs to stop.”

“I your number-one fan.”

“Please don’t Misery me.”

“I going to Misery you. You at house or fancy rock star motel?”

“House. SHIT!”

“Okay. We stop for gas, come over.”

“Your submarine runs on gas?”

…

“Coal.”

“Oh.”

“Is not great submarine. Sometime, Josh Meyer–”

“Please don’t start confessing shit to me.”

“–I just don’t know if Only Korea is best country in world.”

“I don’t care.”

“All our stuff is junk. It gets to you.”

“I truly don’t care.”

“I feel like I can open up to you.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way.”

“We get matching tattoo.”

“No. Well, maybe if the design is really cool.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“Is that you or me?”

“Only Korea no have Call Waiting yet.”

“Sure.”

CALL WAITING NOISE

“I’m going to take this and not come back.”

“I come to you.”

“Dammit.”

…

“Weir here.”

“Please hold for the President of the United States.”

“Dammit.”

“John? This is the President.”

“Hi, Katy.”

“Don’t you ‘Hi, Katy’ me. Do you know I’m getting calls from the CIA, the NSA, the FBI, and NASA about your little bromance, John?”

“None of those entities have called you.”

“They have, John. About you. They’re going to send drones after you, John. I’m coordinating the entire operation from the presidential yacht.”

“America hasn’t had a presidential yacht in many years.”

“I bought a new one.”

“You named the presidential yacht Sassy?”

“USS SASSY. Technically, it’s Navy One when I’m aboard, whether or not I’m in a bikini.”

“You’re very matchy-matchy.”

“You can see me?”

“Don’t worry about it. Katydoodle–”

“Madam Presidentdoodle.”

“–this Kim Jong-Un thing is not my fault. I just want to solo and wear clothes and give my fans skincare tips.”

“What’s done is done, John. The drones are in the air. Maybe you’ll get lucky and they’ll see a wedding full of foreigners on their way to your house and use up all their ammunition.”

“The presidency has changed you.”

“Kissinger was right about many things, John.”

“Wow.”

“Wait. There’s something in the water.”

“A periscope?”

“Looks like.”

SHPLAAAARSH

KREEEEEEEEEEEEEKLANG

“A submarine just surfaced and the hatch opened, John.”

“The sound effects were obvious.”

“Hey! Big Boobies! It Kim Jong-Un!”

“Kim! Hey! You won’t believe–”

“Don’t tell him it’s me!”

“–who I’m on the phone with.”

“Goddammit.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

“This is John Mayer. Please don’t be, like, half-a-dozen people.”

“Please hold for the president.”

“What? Really? The what? Yeah, I’ll hold. Of course.”

…

“Hello, John. I’m the president now.”

“You are not the president, Katydoodle.”

“That’s Madam Katydoodle, John. And it’s customary to stand when the president enters the room.”

“We’re on the phone.”

“But I’m in a room.”

“Where are exactly?”

“I’m polling my constituents, John. And showing them my power. Like Jeff Chimenti, but richer.”

“You’re very impressive.”

“I wanted to sing Don’t Cry for Me, Argentina. A lot of people explained how hilariously inappropriate that would have been, so I didn’t do it. But I still did Evita Arms.”

“You snuck it in.”

“I am the hottest president, John.”

“Who was your competition?”

“I would bang Teddy Roosevelt.”

“Everybody would bang Teddy Roosevelt, but the guy wasn’t attractive.”

“I appointed Doctor Gary to the CDC, John.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“The first thing he did was get a map of all the reservoirs in the country, and then he went in his office and locked the door.”

“I think none of this is actually happening, Katy.”

“President Perry.”

“I think Doctor Gary has once more fed you something that made you allergic to reality, and now you’re hallucinating wildly in a closet and bothering me.”

“Then why is he here, John?”

“He who?”

“I got a helicopter, hot dog dick!”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“I fuck you up, Tablecloth Face. Only Korea number one, Grateful Dead number ten.”

“Please stop being racist.”

“Suck my heavenly balls, Meyers! I got nuke and Taylor Swift yanky my cranky.”

“I’m begging you to stop being racist. Why are you Lego?”

“Everybody else Lego. Only Korea invent Lego.”

“Sure. But, uh, that storyline’s over. Sir Paul sobered up and drove away.”

“When this happen?”

“Last night.”

“Huh. I stop reading. Beg for money. Make me cringe.”

“It got rough, yeah.”

“No more Lego?”

“No.”

“Huh.”

…

“I look like asshole.”

“You don’t! Kimmy buddy–”

“Do not call that.”

“–you look fine. I mean, you look a lot more like your father than you, but whatever.”

“Kim Jong-Il great man. Invent miniature golf.”

“Okay, sure.”

“I go change. We no talk about this or nuke drop on all hot dog dicks.”

“Great. Lips are sealed.”

“You are now best friend of Kim Jong-Un, Josh Meyer.”

“I have to pass.”

“Cannot pass. Is honor.”

“Respectfully.”

“No respectfully. You best friend. We road trip.”

“NO!”

“Good. We bro now. I change into checkered jumpsuit.”

“Oh, please, God: don’t let anyone Photoshop a checkered jumpsuit on you.”

“Okay, okay. Love you, Hot Dog Dick.”

“Please don’t capitalize that.”

…

“I signed a number of treaties, John.”

“I’m hanging up the phone and getting drunk.”

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

…

…

…

CELL PHONE NOISE

CELL PHONE NOISE

…

…

…

CELL PHONEKERSMASH TINKLE PLINKLE

…

…

…

BACKUP CELL PHONE NOISE

BACK–

“What!? It’s my day off! What!?”

“You need to be nicer to me, John.”

“Katylumps?”

“Don’t call me that, John. I am now Madam President Katy Rodham Perry. I’m the president, John.”

“I have accepted the Democratic Party’s nomination, and now I’m the President of the United States, John.”

“You sang a song and did some light banter, Katy.”

“No, John. There were procedural votes and the backrooms were filled with smoke, and now I’m the Potus with the mostest. I have the football, John.”

“Katy.”

“The nuclear football.”

“Katy.”

“I could burn it all, John.”

…

“I seem to have misplaced the nuclear football, John.

“You don’t have the…Katy, you’re not the president. I promise.”

“If you’re going to be negative, you can’t be in my drawers, John.”

“Cabinet.”

“You can’t be in any of my furniture. I think you’re intimidated by my womanly power. I am the first lady president, John.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Besides Calvin Coolidge.”

“Calvin Coolidge was a man, Katy.”

“No. Lady. Pope Joan-type situation. That’s why there’s no pictures of him naked.”

“Could be.”

“What are you doing?”

“I am trying to enjoy my day off and get some exercise. My grocery shopping was already ruined.”

“Did you borrow those shorts from Bobby?”

“Yeah, how did you…can you see me?”

“Don’t worry about it. Also, your form is awful, John.”

“I just want to relax. Wait, weren’t you kidnapped by ninjas?”

“Scottish ninjas. The Scottish ninjas kidnapped me, John. And then we played Glastonbury, and they were killed by the actual ninjas, who took me to Japan.”

“Right. Then what happened?”

“A half-assed attempt at more Earthroamer adventures, and then Bobby turned into Lego with a Beatle.”

“Continuity is not this universe’s strong suit.”

“No. Our semi-fictional reality is an NP problem: if given the present bearing, you couldn’t work out how everything got to that place in less time than it took to read everything up to there.”

“Your level of intelligence fluctuates at random, doesn’t it?”

“Were you listening to me? It’s a shoddily-constructed universe, John. We struggle to maintain our selves in the storm of new experience, and find shelter only within each other.”

…

“That was pretty, Katy.”

“Speechwriters whipped it up. I’m the president now, John.”

“Dammit, Katy–”

CALL WAITING NOISE

CALL WAITING NOISE.

“Hold on, John. It’s the red phone.”

“You don’t have the red phone.”

“It’s a red phone.”

“I’ll hold.”

…

“Is this Leader of Hot Dog Dick Americans, Katy Perry?”

“New phone, who dis?

“You in big trouble from little China, lady!”

“I got Glorious Octopus of Juche Death! Fuck your shit right up!”

“Uh-huh. Can you hold on one sec?”

“I hold.”

“Awesome.”

…

“John?”

“Katy.”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Who’s on the other line?”

“Don’t be mad, but I have no idea. He seems like someone the president should know. He has a Death Octopus, John.”

“Did he call you a hot dog dick?”

“By association, yes.”

“Goddammit.”

“And I think he stole Hillary’s pantsuit.”

“Godammit.”