Trump Interviews Romney

Mitt Romney, handsome and trim, marches into Trump Tower and rides high the elevator to the office of President-elect Donald Trump. After security guards strip search the former governor of Massachusetts, a secretary tells him, “Please have a seat. The president will be with you directly.”

Romney sits in a soft chair and on an adjacent table beholds dozens of NRA publications. He chooses one, digging in, and reads most of the issue in about an hour before asking, “Pardon me, do you know approximately when the president-elect will be interviewing me?”

“Soon as he can. He’s quite busy.”

Romney selects a second magazine, glistening with guns on the cover, and reads another hour or so before the secretary says, “President Trump will see you now.”

Feeling a little tense Romney rises and practices a few tight smiles as he walks down the hall, and upon seeing The Donald he grins big and says, “Mr. President-elect, this is a great honor.”

“I expect so,” says Trump.

They move into Trump’s office offering a spectacular view of Manhattan, and the host says, “I feel like I can see and understand the whole world from here.”

“I’ve traveled quite widely, too, sir, and have many important foreign contacts.”

“That’s why I’ve asked you to interview for secretary of state. Please sit down.”

Romney gently descends into a plush chair.

“I’d be honored to serve our country in that capacity, and I’d do a doggone good job.”

“You’ve got the intellect and experience, Mitt, no doubt about that. I do have some concerns, however.”

“Please speak frankly, sir.”

“I gotta ask about your disgraceful speech calling me a phony and a fraud.”

“Aren’t we all ashamed of some things we say during the heat of campaigns?”

“You weren’t even in the campaign.”

“I was kind of hoping to be. But before long, sir, I concluded you were the best and most dynamic candidate, a new breed of candidate unsullied by governmental experience or knowledge of the issues. Furthermore, I now realize I squandered time studying law and business at Harvard and would’ve been far better served learning from you.”

“You also said I was playing Americans for suckers so I’d get a free ride to the White House.”

“What an intemperate and utterly indefensible statement that was. In fact, the presidential campaign was long and thorough, and in Darwinian fashion you removed sixteen weak Republican opponents, and I too would’ve been trampled by the Trumpian juggernaut had I been so foolish as to challenge your candidacy.”

“You’re right about that. Now, what about saying dishonesty is Donald Trump’s hallmark?”

“I didn’t mean it literally. Indeed, I was dishonest in making that statement.”

“You also criticized me for bullying and greed and showing off and misogyny and absurd third-grade theatrics.”

“Wasn’t that juvenile of me?” says Romney. “Here in private, sir, I admit that my spleen exploded as I realized that you, rather than I, would become commander in chief of the greatest nation in history.”

“Really, Mitt, your cheap shots surprised me since in 2012 you would’ve dropped to your knees to get my endorsement. You should’ve won that race and saved us four more years of Barack Obama. But you disappeared.”

“I’m profoundly ashamed and ask you to forgive me.”

“I may do that. Believe it or not, you’re still in the running for secretary of state. I’d prefer General David Petraeus, a real stud, but need someone who can easily be confirmed.”

“I can. You know that and so do millions of Americans.”

“I’ll let you know,” Trump says, rising.

Romney also stands, and in storms Kellyanne Conway, the slender blond vixen who guided Trump during his raucous campaign. She says, “How dare you come into this sacred office after the way you betrayed President Trump. You’re a vile and disgusting man and a traitor.”

“The president-elect and I have been discussing these very concerns.”

“We don’t even know who you voted for,” she says.

“I could lie but I shan’t. I wrote in my name, but realize I should’ve voted for Donald J. Trump.”

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