Because the last post devolved into chaos.
Lacey: Oh never mind…
I give-up.
I’ll just have to have a very private life than I’d like. I was going to discuss it here, just…for fun. Kind of like inviting people into my house, as friends. But…oh well.
Dimitry: I hear you.
We ruined that.
Ilhan: You aren’t sorry?
Dimitry: *ignores her*
Ilhan: You should be.
*later*
Trump: I don’t think the Kennedy Center is about the Kennedys anymore?
Bobby: It was never about us.
Jim: Then why did it happen to be named after you?
Bobby: *thinks*
We paid for it.
Harvard: No you did not.
Bobby: *laughs*
*smells the pineapple juice one of Lacey’s readers is drinking*
Harvard: No! You DID NOT.
Bobby: Then why did they name it after my grandfather?
Harvard: It was named after your Uncle Jack.
Bobby: No. It was named after my grandfather.
He was a huge investor in Old Hollywood. In the 1920’s.
Jackie was his favorite daughter-in-law, because of her intense interest in the fine arts.
She helped establish it. But it was always meant to be named after my grandfather.
Harvard: But…it was…erected because of your Uncle Jack. Not your grandfather.
Bobby: That’s the story.
But if Lem was heterosexual? Ha! …There’s more.
The building was originally inspired by my grandfather.
Trump: Then what can we do? It’s…-
He was patronizing his son. I get it.
He wanted to be President himself.
Bobby: Yes!
He always wanted a building in his honor. He had to settle for one named after his son.
Trump: I want my name on it. Because my administration is going to make it great. Or it’s going to be torn down.
Bobby: *WEEPS*
I’m sorry, but the house on Cape Cod has mold.
*he sobs*
YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO US!!
Trump: I didn’t give your family a moldy house.
Bobby: WE HAVE BEEN TERRORIZED.
*He shrieks*
Trump: My goodness.
Cheryl: We can’t let go of the last vestige of our beloved family memories.
We were once kings.
Listen to “Piano Concerto No. 17 in G Major, Allegro” by Mozart.
Cheryl: We reigned from an ivory throne…nestled on shores of gold…next to a glistening cerulean sea. We were…triumphant.
And now…we have NOTHING.
WE ARE POOR. *she says dramatically*
We are…DESTITUTE.
Bobby: Yes, we are destitute.
Cheryl: Ahh…but Lady Luck has turned her sweet face. Left us…alone.
We shall never be the same.
Bobby: We shall never be the same.
Cheryl: If only…in your mercy…you could grant us but one wish.
Name it…the Trump-Kennedy-Musk Center for the Performing Arts.
Or perhaps Musk-Kennedy-Trump.
Or perhaps…the MKT Center.
Bobby: Yes! Hip-ho! Merry!
Glad tidings.
You shall name it Trump Kennedy Musk.
Trump: Or how about…just Trump?
What about the Ivanka Trump Center for the Performing Arts?
Or the Melania Trump Center for the Performing Arts?
Putin: Could you fix the acoustics?
Trump: Yeah, I don’t know.
Bobby: So you’re going to name it the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts?
Putin: No.
Because you fundraised to build it in the first place.
Your grandfather should have built a fine arts center. Instead of buying the U.S. Presidency.
It’s a shithole, Bobby. I’m sorry.
Bobby: I WANT RETRIBUTION.
Al: FOR WHAT!?
Lem!?
Bobby: OH SHUT-UP!
Trump: I’m going to have to tear it down.
Bobby: Fine.
Melania: You’re not angry?
Bobby: No.
If you can’t name it after me…it’s not worth it.
Cheryl was warming-up to that.
I’ve done an AMAZING job.
…I have.
*he waits*
The things I’ve done to save the nation from long-term health problems!? Ha! MILLIONS of Americans OWE ME THEIR LIVES.
Trump: I’ve-
I hired you.
Bobby: Yeah.
You’re smart.
Trump: Then it should be named after Melania!
Bobby: Why? Just because she’s hot!?
No.
No, sir.
I…have saved…everyone’s lives. Over and over again.
My EPIC rise to power…is the stuff of legends.
Trump: You’re just the Director of Health and Human Services.
It’s a cabinet position.
Bobby: YES!
I CONTROL OUR FOOD.
And if we didn’t eat!? We’d STARVE.
My job…is the most stressful, meaningful, and truly important job…EVER.
Trump: No.
Bobby: YES. YES…
I am…the ruler of FOOD.
I RULE…OVER OUR FOOD. LIKE A GOD.
A reader: So you want a performing arts center? In your name?
Bobby: Yeah.
You sing. Because you eat.
You dance. Because you EAT.
YOU LAUGH…because I FED YOU.
Chairman Mao: Bobby…there are errors, in your thinking.
Bobby: *thinks*
