The so-called “news” that Barack Obama may have tapped the Republican candidate’s phone at Trump Tower last October is actually old news to us. Our crack investigative reporter (whose covert technical prowess yielded access to the first phone conversation between Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin back in December) had been testing equipment on Park Avenue in the weeks prior to the election and evidently crossed wires with those installed by Obama’s henchpeople. What follows are three conversations we recorded, transcribed in their entirety.
October 29, 2016
DT: Ivanka. Hi.
IT: Hi Dad.
DT: What are you doing right now?
IT: My makeup. We’re going to the Guilianis for dinner.
DT: Are you wearing clothes?
IT: Yes Dad.
DT: You’re going with Jared?
IT: Of course I’m going with Jared. What kind of question is that?
DT: Right, right. You’re right. It’s just… I was just wondering why it is you’re always needing to spend so much time with him. Is that some kind of Jewish thing?
IT: No, it’s not some kind of Jewish thing. He’s my husband, the father of your grandchildren. Really, Dad, sometimes I wonder…”
DT: About what? What is it you wonder about, Sweetie? Tell me.
IT: Okay, if you really want to know. How come last week you were hiding in my closet? You really freaked out Consuelo.
IT: Our new housekeeper. She said you were sniffing my clothes. You nearly gave her a heart attack.
DT: I never even saw her.
IT: She said she walked in and you were on your back, like a stranded turtle, under a pile of my skirts.
DT: I had no idea. Really. I’m sorry if I embarrassed you.
IT: If you really don’t want to embarrass me, Dad, stop nuzzling my neck in front of people like Spicer. It totally creeps me out how he’s always snapping pictures with his phone. To tell you the truth when you do stuff like that in public it pretty much creeps me out period.
DT: I had no idea.
IT: You might want to think about cooling your jets for a while on that front. At least until after you’re re-elected. Jared doesn’t seem to mind, but I think it really upsets Melania.
DT: She said something?
IT: You know Melania. She never actually says anything.
DT: Okay, well… I guess we’ll always have Cleveland.
IT: Yeah, Dad, we’ll always have Cleveland… Hey. I gotta run. The babysitter’s here.
DT: Goodbye Sweet—
(phone goes dead)
October 30, 2016
DT: Hello, is this Weightwatchers?
WW: “If you know your party’s extension, please enter it now. If you’d like to speak to a representative, please press zero.”
(a single tone followed by two long rings)
WW: “Thank you for calling Weightwatchers. Please stay on the line. A representative will be with you shortly.”
(a stringed orchestra rendition of Van Halen’s “Jump” plays)
DT: (over music) Very unfair.
(45 seconds pass)
WW: “Please stay on the line. A representative—“
DT: So unfair!
WW: “Thank you for calling Weightwatchers. Please stay on the line. Your call will be answered in the order in which it was received.”
DT: Very unfair. Extremely unfair.
(more Van Halen, 30 seconds pass)
WW: Thank you for calling Weightwatchers. How may I direct your call?
DT: Is this a real person?
WW: Yes. I am very much a real person. My name is Tammy. How may I direct your call?
DT: Look, whatever the hell your name is. This is Donald Trump. You’ve definitely heard of me. I’m the President of the United States—
WW: I am most sorry, Mr. Drump. I am not living in the United States. I am speaking in Bangalore where my president is Mr. Pranab Mukherjee.
DT: First of all, it’s Trump, TRUMP, okay. Not Drump. Second of all, hang up on me and I’ll see to it your company gets audited by the IRS for the next kajillion trillion years. Third of all, I’ve never heard of this Mukherjee. And fourth of all, you’ve been charging my American Express $19.95 a month now for, like, two years and I stopped doing your program right after I won the first Republican debate.
WW: Did you notify Weightwatchers at that time that you wished to terminate your account?
DT: No. Like I said. It didn’t work. Let me repeat that. IT DIDN’T WORK. Comprende? I counted every point like your people said and still put on seventy pounds. As far as I’m concerned your program is a total sham. Total sham. Embarrassing.
WW: Mr. Drump. I am so very sorry. Your rapid weight gain sounds most distressing. You must have become quite a fatty. (hint of a giggle)
DT: Excuse me?
WW: Seventy pounds, sir. That is nothing to sneeze at. I am guessing you must now be as plump as my Auntie Kashvi.
WW: My auntie-ji in Kolkata who just had a most unfortunate aneurism.
DT: Look, I just want my money back, okay? I’m figuring twenty months at $19.95. Rounded off—I’m willing to call it an even thousand. If I don’t see that back on my card by end of business tomorrow, you can tell your, whoever, Mr. Mukherjee to bite my weenie and the horse it rode in on.
WW: I am sorry sir, you have exceeded your time allowance with Weightwatchers Customer Service. Please feel free to contact Weightwatchers online at—.
(phone goes dead)
November 4, 2016
JS: Hiya Bubba, what’s new?
DT: Jeff, is that you? Hey good buddy, how’s it hangin’?
JS: ‘Bout same as usual.
DT: Half way to Tuscaloosa, right? (chuckles)
JS: Right, right… Anyway, I just wanted to let you know I think you’re gonna win this thing big.
DT: I appreciate your support, Jeff.
JS: No seriously. I had a vision last night.
DT: What exactly—
JS: I can’t describe it really. There was a lot of fog and clouds, maybe a few birds. Then there you were, dressed in a white robe, sitting on a golden throne.
DT: How’d my hair look?
JS: It looked mighty fine, Bubba, very… you know, God-like.
JS: Yep. And it hit me how after you’re elected people are gonna come to accept you as their One True God.
DT: You really think so?
JS: We’re talking’ about the Christians of course.
DT: Uh huh…
JS: Okay, if you wanna get technical, the white non-Catholic, non-Episcopalian Christians. But you know what I’m sayin’.
DT: It’s funny, I keep having the same dream, except somehow my hair never seems to look quite right.
JS: Don’t worry about that, Bubba, what’s important is we’re gonna have our day.
DT: It was Attorney General you wanted, right?
JS: Not necessary, not necessary. (chuckles)
DT: Hey, tell me something. When you met with what’s-his-name… you know, that Russian dude…
DT: Exactly, the ambassador whatever. You’re sure you gave him that account number in Zurich, right?
DT: Huh, that’s funny. It’s been over a month and I never got as much as a thank you note. Not even an email.
JS: Bubba, you gotta get used to how things are gonna work now. Trust me, after you win this election, you’ll have a whole new understandin’ of how folks express their gratitude.
DT: I’m so glad I’ve got you on my team, Jeff. Your wisdom is tremendous. Tremendous wisdom. Anyway, the next eight years, anything you want is yours.
JS: Well, there are some Amendments to the Constitution we may wanna rethink.
DT: Oh yeah, just name ’em.
JS: Well, there’s One, of course. Thirteen through Fifteen. And Twenty-Four. That oughta ’bout do it.
DT: I’ll get Bannon on it as soon as our foot’s in the door. Then once we get you set up at Justice, we’re talking fish in a barrel, right?
JS: Just keep that base of yours happy, Bubba, and I guarantee any spine congressional Republicans mighta ever had’ll stay as limp as roadkill in a rainstorm.
DT: Hey, Jeff, sorry. My daughter’s calling on Line Two. See you Tuesday.
JS: Fingers crossed.
(a series of tones and clicks)
DT: Ivanka? Ivanka…? Fuck.
© 2017 Ron Dulaney