~ Uncle ‘Dolf.
~ Donnie, my boy.
~ Did I done good?
~ You done really good.
~ Are you proud of me?
~ How could anyone NOT be proud?
~ You taught me well.
~ The pupil surpasses the Master.
~ And you are the Master, uncle ‘Dolf.
~ I had my day, true enough.
~ And now it’s my turn.
~ What goes around, comes around.
~ We should have a drink and celebrate.
~ But neither of us drinks.
~That’s right, Uncle ‘Dolf – we are perfect.
~ Ja – look out world!
~ I’m dancing, hah hah, dancing!
~ Uncle Dolf – my dear, dear friend.
~ Like Uncle, like Nephew.
~ I hope I did you proud.
~ You have elevated me to the heights.
~ I followed your lead!
~ My legacy lives on.
~ For you, mein dear Fuhrer, anything.
~ I can tell you a little story.
~ “Fill my ears”.
~ My dear, dear, Goebbels.
~ Your beloved propaganda minister.
~ You just had to love that man.
~ I know! I do!
~ He once told me – and this could apply to you.
~ I would be blessed by anything.
~ After one of his blessed speeches in Berlin.
~ Can I still learn from him?
~ He said: “I could have made them all jump from the windows, if I had asked.”
~ Maybe make them swim to Puerto Rico.
~ Donnie, Donnie. Perhaps my work is done here.
~ Oh, no. I have to win, first.
~ What?
~ Insulting.
~ After what you Marble Palace bastards did to me?
~ Not us.
~ Then who?
~ The US.
~ What?
~ The Law, Mr. President. Of the Land.
~ I put some of you bastards in place.
~ But you can’t put the Law in its place.
~ I’m POTUS. I’m above the law.
~ Not above. Or below. Or equal.
~ I’ve got Power.
~ Not before the Law.
~ I take credit for everything.
~ Thank you. Thank You!
~ You’re welcome.
~ Let me shake your hand.
~ Of course.
~ I suppose a hug is too much?
~ Not at all.
~ Oh. Oh. You are Death’s dream.
~ Any chance you can take out Biden?
~ Oh, I am but a foot soldier. Anyway – he wears a mask.
~ Coward.
~ I love it when you talk like that.
~ He’s keeping his distance.
~ But you don’t.
~ I got guards. No one will get closer than six feet.
~ Of course.
~ I like that – six feet.
~ Why?
~ That’s how deep they bury you. Ground Zero.
~ But aren’t you worried about your followers?
~ Why?
~ Well – you’ll lose their votes.
~ Nah – that doesn’t matter.
~ But you’ll need every vote.
~ Oh, we just get them from the graveyard, too.
~ I’m guessing it will be wine?
~ It does not need to be.
~ Isn’t that what’s supposed to be civilised?
~ les Français have a much wider civilisation than that.
~ I like the green colour in the glass.
~ Indeed, it is beautiful.
~ Have you another suggestion?
~ Thanks, DT. I’ve been living it all my life.
~ I’ve taken some pages out of your books, Frank.
~ I did try to get them burned.
~ You didn’t try too hard.
~ Well – no.
~ You know – neither did I.
~ I know. They all ran to your tune.
~ They did.
~ You were the Pied Piper of Havoc.
~ Worked like a charm, Frank.
~ Yes, DT – yes, it did.
~ They thought I was a bug.
~ Yes.
~ But I turned them into bugs.
~That you did, DT. And turned them against each other.
~ Yes.
~ And stood back, and watched.
~ Pretty well.
~ To the victor goes the spoils.
~ I was astounded – believe me.
~ And they keep making the same mistakes.
~ I know, Frank. I’d laugh if it wasn’t so funny.
~ The one-eyed man is King in the land of the Blind.
~ Yes, Frank – yes. But you know what?
~ What?
~ I’ve got great vision in both eyes.
DE
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~ A Moscow Mule.
~ Since when are you a vodka man?
~ Just trying to fit in with the 46th.
~ Joe!
~ Make him feel at home.
~ That is so not-politically correct in so many ways.
~ Neither is he.
~ Point taken, Joe.
~ Did you just say Putin, Boss?
~ Joe!
~ So, I’ve gone around the mansion.
~ Joe.
~ And I’ve put red stickers on the art work.
~ What?
~ Like they’re sold.
~ Are you messing with him again?
~ Yeh.
~ Joe.
~ But I’m being subliminal as hell.
~ What do you mean?
~ The stickers are really little red squares.
~ What the –
~ He’s going to be on the hot line faster than a goose to the bathroom.
~ Joe.
~ That’s politically correct, isn’t it?
~ Are you shittin’ me, Joe?
~ Boss!
DE
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~ What’s your poison, Joe?
~ I think it’s a rum night.
~ Any reason?
~ It’ll encourage me to give him a rum for his money.
~ Joe. You know you’ve got to stop.
~ Yeh, Boss. In January.
~ Messing with his head isn’t going to do any good.
~ It can’t do any harm.
~ True – we’re past that.
~ Gotta have a bit of fun.
~ Hillary could use a bit of fun.
~ I’m not a magician, Boss.
~ True.
~ Though I have a few riffs on The Glass Ceiling surviving Kristallnacht.
~ Joe!
~ Too soon?
~ Not even this time next year.
~ OK.
~ I’ll pretend it’s the rum talking, Joe.
~ OK. I’ll stick to dealing with the 45th.
~ My successor.
~ The old Pussy-Grabber-in-Chief.
~ Joe.
~ I’ve put a few “For a good time, call – ” notes in the washrooms.
~ Joe.
~ I left Melina’s phone number.
~ Joe!
~ Gotta have fun, Barack. There’s only so much rum.
~ True.
~ And I haven’t even started on Pence.
~ Joe!
DE
~
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