Calling Moscow - 17

For Benjamin, a rising superstar of American neuroscience. Thank you for the idea!

Trump anxiously waiting for a call to be picked up, “Pick it up, Vlad, please, pick it up!”

The call goes unanswered.

Trump, to the jail officer, “He doesn’t pick up from unknown numbers. I wanna try again.” Dials again, no answer. The jail officer is getting impatient. Trump, “One more time, just one more time.”

The call is answered in Putin’s voice, “Hello?”

Recording, “This is a collect call from the Fulton County jail for Donald John Trump. If you would like to deny the call, hang up now. If you would like to accept the call, press 1.”

Putin, annoyed, “What the hell? I don’t know any Colette. How did they get this number?” Hangs up.

Trump, to the jail officer, “See, he wouldn’t talk with someone he doesn’t know on this line. I’d like to call him from my personal cell.”

Officer, “No, sir. You know this is not allowed, Mr.President, sir.”

Trump, “But I need to talk with my friend Vlad! He alone can help me.”

Officer, “All calls must be made only from the jail landline here, Mr.President, sir. I can lose my job for breaking the rules.”

Trump, “How about one of my security guys calling him from my phone? I can put it on speaker so that you hear what we are talking about. I really need to talk to him!”

Officer thinks, clearly confused by the presence of security detail in jail, “I will have to ask the warden, Mr.President, sir. I have never had a situation like this before.”

Trump, frustrated, “I’m sure you haven’t. Only in Biden’s America they can put the people’s favorite president in jail. Can you believe it? In jail! Alright, go talk to your warden.”

Officer, taking the land phone away from Trump, “Thank you, Mr.President, sir. I’ll be right back.” Coming back in several minutes, “Mr.President, sir, the warden is calling the Department of Corrections for guidance. He has never dealt with this before, so…”

Trump, yelling, “For f*ck sake, let me call my friend!”

***

Trump, waking up from the nightmare, sweaty and pale, “Oh my god, what a dream! I need to call Vlad.” Dials the secure line.

“Hello, Vlad?”

“Yes, Donnie, what’s up?”

“You would not believe the dream I just had!”

“Tell me, Donnie, but very quick, I’m working out here on the treadmill, doing my morning exercise.”

“Oh, alright. I had a dream that I was trying to collect-call you from jail.”

“Call Colette? Who’s Colette?”

“Not Colette, Vlad. Funny, but you said the same thing in the dream, like you don’t know any Colette.”

“I really don’t, Donnie. What does some Colette have to do with you and me?”

“Not Colette, Vlad. Collect, meaning you’d have to pay for the call. That’s what they do with inmates in American jails, place collect calls for them because they have no money to pay.”

“Ah, I see. Crazy. That wouldn’t have worked in any case, Donnie.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because I wouldn’t pay for that call!”

“Why, Vlad? Aren’t we friends?”

“Because I’m under sanctions, Donnie! Completely cut off from the Western systems of payments! I wouldn’t be able to pay for that call even in rubles!” (almost angrily, to the side, “How stupid is he, really?”)

“Oh, I see. I’m relieved to hear that, Vlad.”

“Really? Why? Because I’m under sanctions?”

“No, no, of course not, Vlad. I’m simply glad it’s not because you wouldn’t want to talk with me.”

“It’s always all about you, Donnie, isn’t it?” (annoyed).

“Excuse me?” (perplexed)

“It’s alright, Donnie, never mind. So, what do you think triggered your dream about jail?”

“I don’t know. Maybe that I’ll have to report to Fulton County court for the arraignment this Thursday, August 24?”

“A-ha. And how do you feel about it?”

“You sound like a shrink I never had, Vlad.”

“Just trying to be helpful here, as a friend, Donnie.”

“Well, I don’t know. I’m anxious, I guess. Yes, anxious, I could say.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because it’s a state case, Vlad, not a federal one. A lot of things are different there.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Well, for one, the hearing may be televised. In federal courts, they don’t allow the cameras. In Georgia, they do. And they probably would. They probably would, just to make a circus out of it.”

“How is it bad for you, Donnie? You always look good on camera, people love you!”

“Not in trial, though. My lawyers tell me that it may look bad when the people’s favorite president is on trial for months, forced to speak under oath. I may lose a lot of supporters.”

“Or gain even more, if they see you as a victim of an unfair prosecution.”

“True, but it’s like 50/50.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it work for you, Donnie. You are such a master of handling the media! Real talent! Oops, I have to go now, Donnie, an urgent call!” hangs up abruptly.

Trump, looking at the phone, “Well, at least this time he wasn’t mad at me.”