“I have the flag and pleated bunting delivery for the inauguration platform. Can you sign?”
“We are recalibrating the number of flags. We can’t have any too close to the Boss Daddy because he wants to wear a hat for his inauguration.”
“Uhmm, that doesn’t seem relevant for this conversation, but, okay, why is that?”
“It’s going to be windy.”
“Right. Well, doesn’t that mean the hat could blow off?”
“Not for our Daddy. He’s a pro at wearing hats. That’s what got him elected.”
“Still, it’s a deviation from the established norms of…”
“I’m gonna stop you right there. We don’t care.”
“Of course. But I had to say it.”
“We all have our roles to play.”
“Speaking of, what’s the status on Trump’s pregnancy? Are we going to see his waddle give birth during the ceremony?”
“If Daddy wills it.”
“Right. But since he’s giving birth, doesn’t that make him the Mother?”
“How dare you. He is pure man. The manliest man who ever manned. And he ruined his figure filling up with the Girth of a Nation, and our pregnant president will soon give birth to the Great White Hope of America. Will it happen during the inauguration? Who can say?”
“Seems like you could say…”
“For your insult, you are disinvited.”
“Look, I’m delivering the bunting. I am not going to attend, and I am not coming back for flags afterward. They are always sticky after a Trump event. So if you could pay this invoice…”
“Sorry, can’t pay now. We’ve decided to move the inauguration inside, so we have recalibrate everything!”
“I’m never getting paid, am I…?”
“No. But we just got a million bucks from Amazon. Maybe I can get you a free year of Prime.”
