This WH Baffles The Shit Out Of Me…


Of all the tweets NOT to tweet…

Even in Trumpian ‘Up-Is-Down-And-Down-Is-Sideways’ logic, Donald tweeting ANYTHING about Al Franken should have been an easy veto.  Even inside Donald’s perpetual-wounded-little-boy, syphilis-addled brain…

Why didn’t THIS CONVERSATION take place?  OUR SCENE — Upstairs at the Trump WH, behind ‘closed doors’…

Ivanka enters — sees Donald hunched over his phone, tippity-tapping away.  As she slowly approaches…

Ivanka (apprehensively):  Daddy — what are you tweeting now…?

Donald:  That Franken guy.  Fuck him!  He never says anything nice about me!

As Donald keeps typing  — Ivanka eases closer – eyes fixed on his cell phone.

Ivanka:  We talked about this, daddy.  You CAN’T tweet about him…

Donald turns, tweet finished, tiny finger poised to publish it —

Donald:  Why the hell not?  I hate that fucker, he’s–

He freezes.  It’s almost like Putin walked into the room; this might be worse.

TIGHT ON IVANKA — All the horrible knowledge in the world is in those eyes.  Not just wicked thoughts, but the KNOWLEDGE of wicked thoughts brought to life.

Her (genetically) cold, steely gaze isn’t focused on her father’s eyes, it’s focused on something only SHE knows is inside; after all, this ‘man’ is her most frequent ‘Partner In Crime’ (and they BOTH know we’re talking A LOT of crime).  This, right here — it’s the Brutal Truth:

Ivanka: Because, daddy, if you do, we will finally have to answer for US


Now, of course, in my mind, Ivanka’s last line is deliberately ambiguous.  But then — so many crimes, right?

So — why DIDN’T this conversation take place?  And, if it did…

Well, that’s a whole other question, isn’t t?

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