Shaking several papers in his hand, President Trump shouts, “What the hell are these?”
“They’re quotes just leaked from private diplomatic memos by the British ambassador,” says adviser Kellyanne Conway.
“Man or woman?”
“Ambassador Darroch is a man, President Trump. And he gives great parties.”
“Tell the secret service to get my beast.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the British Embassy, and you’re coming.”
Trump, Conway, and a security detail exit the White House and enter several beasts that need fifteen minutes to grind through traffic three miles to the elegant four-story manor where Ambassador Kim Darroch works and lives.
Pocketing his tweeter and exiting the vehicle, Trump approaches two guards behind the black wrought iron fence and tells them, “You know who I am. Open up.”
“Do you have an appointment, President Trump?” one guard says.
“Tell Kim Darroch his ass is in hot water.”
The other guard speaks into a device clipped to his collar.
“Hurry up,” says Trump.
A couple minutes later the guard says, “You’re in luck. Ambassador Darroch’s available.”
The gates open and Trump directs Conway and five agents to accompany him. Before they reach the front door, Kim Darroch emerges wearing a fine suit, spots Conway and approaches her, saying, “Kellyanne, how nice to see you.”
They shake hands and chat a moment before she glances at Trump.
“I don’t mean to break up your little reunion,” says the president, “but I’m here on urgent state business.”
“I have an idea what that might be,” says Darroch.
Trump holds out his hand and an agent fills it with the leaked comments.
“Let’s see,” says Trump, “I could start anywhere. You wrote that my Iran policy is ‘incoherent.’ I’m trying to prevent them from getting nuclear weapons.”
“The nuclear deal is still doing that quite well, but your departure imperils everyone in the region.”
Trump shakes his head. “I want you to apologize for writing that I ‘might be indebted to dodgy Russians.’”
“I still believe that could be the case, Mr. President,” says Darroch.
“The Mueller report exonerated me: no collusion and no obstruction.”
“Actually, the Mueller report, which still needs more thorough public examination, explicitly did not exonerate you of anything. It merely concluded the government couldn’t prove you colluded with the Russians, and I don’t believe you did. But the evidence may point to obstruction.”
“You must get your talking points from CNN. You claim we’ll never ‘look competent’ and you doubt my ‘administration is going to become substantially more normal, less dysfunctional, less clumsy and inept,’ and so on. I do things my way, the new way, and career bureaucrats like you are amateurs.”
Kim Darroch appears to have been told he’s on Mars.
“Mr. President, your accusation of amateurism is most ironic, otherwise you’d know that my task as ambassador is to make confidential assessments about the current administration in the United States. Furthermore, while you were bilking workers of wages, using race to deny rental applications, and misguiding several large businesses into financial disaster, I worked all over the world as a diplomat, served as national security adviser to a prime minister, and was my nation’s representative to the European Union.”
“That’s why I’ve already tweeted you’re a ‘very stupid guy.’ The European Union’s a loser. And you better get your ass out of my country. You won’t have any contact with me or the many people in my administration and the State Department.”
Ambassador Darroch glances at Kellyanne Conway, who looks away, before he says, “After more than forty years of service, I’ll gladly resign my post rather than deal with an imbecile like you.”
Motioning toward his beasts, Donald Trump says, “Come on, Kellyanne, this guy’s a bozo.”