DAMAGE CONTROIL CONVERSATION LEAKED!

Recorded behind closed doors at the White House two days ago.

Male Voice:  Mr. President…

Trump: Hold on a minute.  I’m trying to see if I can remember this. (Singing) “My bologna has a first name, it’s O-S-C-A-R, My bologna has a second name, It's M-A-Y-E-R.” Then what the hell is it?

Female Voice: Mr. President we need you to…

Trump:  “Oh I love to eat it everyday…And if you ask me why say….say…say…shit, what the hell is it?

(We hear a loud thumping sound)

Female Voice:  Oh my God, he’s banging his head into the desk.

Trump:  (Triumphant) Cause' Oscar Mayer has a way with B-O-L-O-G-N-A!!!!  (Then:) Ow.

Male Voice: Mr. President: Helsinki.  We need to clean this mess up pronto.  You are getting hammered from both sides of the aisle, sir.

Trump:   What’s to clean up?  I was great.  First of all how much bigger am I than Putin, right?  The top of his head was like two feet below my nipples.  That is a show of strength.  He looks like a tiny Russian doll next to me.

Female Voice:  Sir, with all due respect, you spoke out against our intelligence agencies and sided with Russia.  You called us “foolish.”

Trump:  I never said foolish.

Female voice:  Yes you did.

Trump: Nope.  Did not.

Male voice: But….

Trump: Do you see what I just did there?  The way I made your face look just now?  Whatever the hell I say or didn’t say doesn’t matter. What matters is what I say after.  I’m like an interpreter for me.   What the hell did he say? Ask me tomorrow and I’ll tell you.  

Female voice: But you are on tape.  What you said was recorded. And it was broadcast live to the entire world.

Trump:  And that was when?

Female voice:  Yesterday.

Trump:  Exactly.  Yesterday in my world means nothing. Nothing.  I could take a giant leak on Timothy Dalton’s shoes and all that matters is how I reduce it to nothing 24 hours a day.

Male voice:  Who the hell is going to believe that?

Trump: Oh I would say about 40 million idiots. Badda book. Badda boom.  (He makes pistol shooting sounds) 

Female voice:  So what do you want to say from the Oval Office?

Trump:  Who gives a shit?  It. Doesn’t. Matter.  I’m like Pam spray: nothing sticks to me.  The morons love me.  The Republicans are scared of me.  The Democrats are all walking around like Elmer Fudd with all these tweety birds flying over their heads.  Life. She is good.  Do you not get it?  I’m Roy Cohen, god rest his soul.  I’m Sinatra. Doobie Doobie doo motherfucker.

Male voice: The cameras are already set up.  You have to say something.

Trump: Fine. Whatever.  Okay. I got it.  Pick a word, any word from the transcript.  Go on.  Totally at random.

Female voice: Uhhh. Uhhhh.  Okay, “would.”

Trump: Like wood in a fireplace wood?

Female voice: No.  W-o-u-l-d would. You said “I don’t see any reason why it would be Russia.

Trump:  Great. That’s perfect.  I’ll say, I misspoke and meant, “wouldn’t.”  I don’t see any reason why it wouldn’t be Russia. How beautiful is that?  Just the other day, on the internet, I saw a picture of Jennifer Connolly naked, from years ago.  Incredible.  Google it, it’s fantastic.

Male voice:  we are so fucked.   It wasn’t just that line.  It’s everything you did and said.  You practically proposed marriage to the guy.  You gave away the farm.  You turned your back on America.  You colluded right in front of the entire planet.  What you did was….treasonous.

Trump:  And yet here I will sit tomorrow and tomorrow and the tomorrow after that.  Because that is the story of my life.  This is how Roy taught me to survive.  You don’t care.  Ever. You take. You grab.  You steal whatever you want. You shove people out of your way even if they’re 100 years old.  You mock the afflicted.  You say whatever the hell comes out of your mouth because as long as you act like there are no repercussions then people will think they cannot cut you down.   You don’t stand in the way of a goddamn charging bull.  You stay out of its way and hope that it doesn’t do too much damage.  And you don’t try to teach it a lesson because it doesn’t speak English, caliche?  And best of all the whole time, you were scared to fucking death.  That’s why I don’t give a fuck about the constitution.  Fuck the constitution.  Fuck the laws.  Rules are for nice people.  Rules are for pussies.   You want to know the history of this country: We took from day one and kept right on taking to this very day.  I am not just President.  I am America.  I pledge allegiance to myself.  To my bank account.  And while all the little schmucks out there worry about their little lives, do you know what I do?  I sleep very soundly.  Because I have no conscience.  A conscience is the armor of losers.  I break rules. I ignore boundaries.  I cross lines.  I don’t ask to be invited to the table, I take the goddamn table.  And all the little idiots out there who have nothing and will always have nothing, are going to keep right on wearing those beautiful hats that I make a small fortune on,  and they will keep singing my praises. Why? Because they like my style.  They wish that they had my fucking moxie.  And if they can’t pay for Junior’s medical problems, at least they have me, their attack dog, to go after the motherfuckers who they blame for how little they have.  And what do I do?  I sweeten the pot.  I give them so much to hate, that their head spins.  Blacks, Mexicans, Jews, Muslims—have a field day!   Get all your jollies out taking it all out on some poor Puerto Rican woman in a CVS.  Because in the end, what they feel, is what I feel.  The hard on you get from someone else hitting the pavement who isn’t you.  I give them free punching bags.  Reasons to say and do whatever the hell you want.  Go crazy! Go nuts! Have a good time!  You want to shoot someone?  Knock yourself out.   They’re the ones who are going to jail. But not me.  Not his Roman Gladiator. Not this Emperor.  This is Ground Nero and it is all mine!   Time for a press conference.  Somebody try to stop me!