We have a normal door that opens fine, but it’s $120,000, and sometimes when you open it, it leads to Narnia and you have to spend decades of your life in a magical kingdom resolving disputes among mythical creatures. For $139,000, we can make sure that won’t happen.
Is that everything you needed? Great. I can start ringing you up over here. I’m so glad you came. Don’t worry, these prices are all very reasonable—according to Louise Linton. Why, it’s barely a single chartered flight!
April 6, 2018
Keep Scott Pruitt Moist
Every good president has a cabinet that reflects his priorities. George Washington had Hamilton and Jefferson. Abraham Lincoln had his team of rivals. Donald Trump has a cabinet comprised of only the best people, including EPA head Scott Pruitt, a man whose repeated demands for his staff to drive from hotel to hotel seizing bottles of expensive lotion for him, among other things, was in absolute keeping with this administration’s general ethos and should have raised no further questions.
SCOTT PRUITT MUST HAVE HIS moisturizing lotion.
Why?
Do not ask why.
Scott Pruitt appears to be a man with gray hair. He appears to be a man like other men, though he is charged, unlike other men, with the protection of the environment.
But he is letting the environment change, just slightly. Just enough for another creature to be quite comfortable—one with a hardy exoskeleton that thrives in warmth and darkness.
And Scott Pruitt must have his moisturizing lotion.
NOT THAT ONE! That is an ordinary lotion. The lotion Scott Pruitt requires is quite rare and available only at Ritz-Carlton hotels, and not even all Ritz-Carlton hotels. Hurry, we must drive. We must find the lotion. It must be absorbed into Scott Pruitt’s pores. Its scent must travel around him. He must be entirely shrouded in its scent, like Earth by carbon dioxide.
Is it urgent? What will happen if Scott Pruitt is not given his moisturizing lotion?
Have you seen what happens when you leave an earthworm in the sun on hot asphalt? Have you seen what happens to the things that live in a wetland when that swamp dries up? Have you seen a salamander left too long in a hot car? Have you seen a lobster without its shell?
Unrelatedly, we must find Scott Pruitt his lotion.
Scott Pruitt must be seated at the front of the plane, behind the little curtain. Perhaps a private jet would be better, all things considered. It would be safer. None must see what happens when he reaches 30,000 feet.
What will happen?
Nothing, nothing! Naturally.
But it might be good, all the same, if he had a secure door at his office, with a biometric seal. A door that only he may open, that will recognize him, even if—
Do not ask, “If what?” Drive! We must find the lotion. Scott Pruitt must be kept moist.
It is not that Scott Pruitt is beginning to assume a new and monstrous shape. It is of course nothing like that.
Scott Pruitt is trying to keep Earth warm. As it becomes warmer, he will need more ointment and another mattress. In fact, he needs the mattress now. It is a very particular mattress. It could accommodate an enormous exoskeleton made entirely of cartilage. Scott Pruitt is certainly not terraforming Earth to be warmer and stormier and filling the air with smog.
On an entirely different topic, Scott Pruitt must have a secure door that responds only to his touch.
The rectangular bottle in which the lotion is kept is dangerously low. And if Scott Pruitt does not have sufficient moisturizer—
And we must find Scott Pruitt a mattress. Not any mattress. One mattress in particular.
What is it that he needs them for? What will happen if he is not kept moist and his back is not properly supported?
Do not ask. Drive, drive!
He must have a soundproof phone booth in his office. No sound must escape this booth, not even the cracking of a hideous and enormous exoskeleton. Not even the sound of moisturizing lotion being frantically slathered on the creature within! Not even its bellowing—a bellowing too loathsome for human ears. We must keep him secure.
Drive, drive! Get the lotion!
And aides must pay for these hotel rooms. That much is clear. The taxpayer must not question. The taxpayer must understand that this is worthwhile. The taxpayer must know that some things are too terrible to behold.
Are you saying that if, for a single night, Scott Pruitt were not kept properly moist, with access to a mattress that meets certain exacting specifications, something terrible would befall us?
Think if they did not meet these specifications. Think what might emerge from that $43,000 soundproof booth. Think what might escape that $5,700 biometric lock. No, never mind, do not think of it. You must not think of it. You would go mad.
Drive, drive! Put on the flashing light on the motorcade, if you must! Drive, drive! Scott Pruitt must be kept moist. We must keep him moist at any cost.
July 5, 2018
I’m Beginning to Suspect These Were Not, in Fact, the Best People
WELL, GOSH. THIS IS EMBARRASSING. I promised my team would be the “best people,” and, wow, it looks like maybe that was not the case. It is turning out, that, in fact, the people surrounding me and filling this White House were not at all as advertised! Or maybe exactly as advertised! I am starting to notice this from all the trials that keep happening.
I thought I had the best team ever to be assembled, but I had a big coat full of skunks, six rejected concepts for Batman villains, and a disembodied voice that yells rude things in the Quiet Car.
I thought I had the finest cadre of advisers and lawyers the earth had ever seen, but now that I look I see that all I had was the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come, an aardvark in a Model UN sweater, a hairpiece on top of a novelty skeleton
