Hey, Slash. Still here, huh?

“Do you mean at the Capitol, or in this stupid fucking universe of yours?”

Both.

“Apparently.”

Don’t get cranky. It’s a lot of fun in here. You wanna meet Elvis?

“Really?”

I can absolutely, positively introduce you to Elvis. Gotta warn you, though–

“Nuts?”

–he’s crazier than Judy Garland in a pharmacy.

“I’m used to it.”

True. Hey, lemme ask you a question.

“Yeah, all right.”

You dye your hair?

“Ah, I gotta. I’d look silly gray.”

No arguments here.

CELL PHONE NOISE

“Is that Elvis?”

Could be! Definitely could be!

“Cool.”

…

“This is Slash.”

“Slasher! You ever been Mar-a-Lago?”

“Ah, Christ.”

“We go. Is season. Florida like heaven now.”

“I don’t wanna go to Florida with you, man.”

“Yes. Slasher and Kim Jong-Un hit Palm Beach. We golf. Maybe fish. You ever have fried chicken from Publix?”

“I have, actually.”

“Is best!”

“It’s pretty damn good, yeah.”

“Father invent chicken.”

“Your father invented fried chicken?”

“No. Father invent chicken.”

“Any way you could stop calling me?”

“Is settled. We go Mar-a-Lago. Get adjoining room. Leave door open. Izzy come?”

“Izzy probably won’t come.”

“Okay. I kidnap Izzy. See soon.”

DIAL TONE NOISE BECAUSE PHONES IN ONLY KOREA STILL DO THAT

…

“You said it was gonna be Elvis.”

You should know something about me, Slash: I lie almost constantly.