Donald Trump has received a call from Sarah Palin, former Governor of Alaska, according to sources close to the President-elect. A transcript has been leaked
DT: Good to hear from you, Sarah. How’re things going? How’s the weather up there in Alaska?
SP: Oh, fine, just fine, Donald, on both counts. But I’ve been kinda expecting to hear from you.
DT: Well, Sarah, I’ve been kinda busy of late. They didn’t tell me I’d have to work so goddamned hard, if you wanna know the truth. I used to sleep like a log. Now I’m lucky if I get to bed at all. Grabbing a little ass in the kitchen isn’t the same as the real thing. Melania isn’t happy at all.
SP: I understand, Donald, and I don’t want to keep you from your duties, but have you given any thought to how I can help your administration? I’m rarin’ to go, y’know, as usual. The pit-bull with lipstick is ready to be unleashed.
DT: Yeah, I bet. And let me tell you, babe, your support during the campaign was greatly appreciated, and I mean greatly, and I haven’t forgotten it.
SP: So, Donald, I keep hearing in the media up here about cabinet appointments, and I’m sitting here wondering if there’s gonna be anything left over for little old Sarah.
DT: Well, honey, I was hoping you might fit in at Interior, but the feeling was that your – how can I put it? – lack of sensitivity over environmental issues had a lotta people over there screaming.
SP: I thought we were on the same page on this, Donald, ready to take on the tree-huggers and goddamned screaming climate freaks.
DT: We are, Sarah, we are, but I gotta throw a few bones to the folks who care about that crap. I may need ‘em when I get round to building my wall.
SP: I’m glad the wall is still on the agenda, Donald, but I’m startin’ to worry that I’m not.
DT: Don’t worry, babe, we’ll think of something. How about an ambassadorship? Very prestigious. You get a big house and all expenses paid.
SP: Gee, that would be swell, especially London. I’d love to meet the Queen of England, get to stay over in the Palace and stuff, talk to her woman-to-woman. I think we’d get along real well.
DT: I don’t think you’re quite ready for such a senior posting, Sarah, if you don’t mind me saying so. I was thinking of a less demanding position. Somewhere in Latin America, perhaps.
SP: Well, that’s a little disappointing, Mr. Trump. I don’t speak a word of Latin. Didn’t even do it at high school. We don’t get to see many Latinos up here.
DT: There’s a position going at the VA that might suit you.
SP: I don’t know much about Virginia, I have to say.
DT: No, Sarah, VA is the Veterans Administration. It doesn’t pay much, but there’s a lot to do there. We have to look after our service boys, especially as we may well have a bit more military action than that chicken-shit Obama was prepared to get into, now that we’ve got Mad Dog running Defense. What a piece of work that guy is. Mad as a bag of snakes. I love him. I’m telling ya, this is gonna be fun.
SP: Well, I’m glad to hear that, Donald, but I’m still not clear where I fit in.
DT: You just hold your horses, Sarah. You’ll get your reward – and before you get to heaven.
SP: Well, I hope so. A whole lot of good folks are behind you who only got there because of me. You’re gonna need a national figure, especially one with a figure like mine.
DT: You can say that again, babe. It won’t do any harm at all to have a nice pair of knockers round the place.
SP: Well, I wouldn’t put it quite like that, Mr. Trump. I do have some other assets, you know. Like brains. I’ve been doin’ a lotta book-readin’ since that old fool McCain screwed up our campaign and then blamed me for it. Go on, ask me a difficult question, like what’s the capital of Africa.
DT: That won’t be necessary, babe. I urge you to be patient a little longer, is all I’m asking.
SP: I’m holding you to that, Mr. Trump. You’ll be wanting me on your side, not out there, causing trouble.
DT: Now, don’t you go threatening me, Mrs. Palin. You had your chance at the White House. Now it’s my turn.
SP: Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Mr. Trump. And I thought we were buddies.
DT: We were, I mean we are, but I can’t go offering jobs to every brainless bimbo that comes calling. And believe me, there are plenty of ‘em.
SP: I’ll wait for your call, then. Don’t disappoint me, Mr. Trump, I can be real mean when I’m crossed.
DT: I’m sorry you feel that way. Why don’t you meanwhile call your neighbour, Vlad Putin. I understand you can see into the Kremlin windows from your kitchen. .
SP: I might just do that, asshole. (Hangs up)