(The Official Secret Clubhouse of the He-Man Truth & Singing Doorbell Haters Club)
Donnie: (looking around the treehouse admiringly)…finally this place is a little more tidy. (turns) Hey Be…Jesus! (bumps into and almost steps on Ben Carson who is stoically standing directly behind him)
Donnie: Dammit Ben! I hate when you do that!
Ben: Do what sir?
Donnie: Sneak up on me! Like some sort of black ninja!
Ben: I didn’t sneak up sir. You called for me and I came.
Donnie: But I didn’t even finish your name.
Ben: Just trying to anticipate sir.
Donnie: Shit! Don’t you have anything better to do?
Ben: Not really sir. I just come when you cal…
Donnie: …aren’t you in my cabinet?
Ben: Yes sir. Right next to the dinner plates and the coffee mugs.
Donnie: He He He! Nice one. That shit doesn’t get old…but NO, don’t you have anything better to do?
Ben: Well I’m sure I do but it’s just that…this housing and urban thing?…development?…it’s just so much work and it’s lots of poor people to worry about. I don’t like poor people. Kind of depressing really.
Donnie: Ok, I’ll give you that, but, well, YOU, Ben, of all people, really should be careful with that sneaking up…that…anticipation as you call it Ben. If you know what I mean?
Ben: I don’t understand sir.
Donnie: YOU Ben. Ya know. YOU? I mean I might take you for a…a uhhh….a mugger or something…or maybe someone waiting for a friend for coffee.
Ben: I still don’t understand sir.
Donnie: (sigh… to self “still the fucking dumbest smart guy ever”) You’re still black right?
Donnie: YOU’RE STILL BLACK RIGHT?!
Ben: Ohhhhhh, right, black…mugger…just a guy waiting for a friend for coffee…I get ya.
Donnie: Exactly. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally (feverishly checking his pockets) get you shot or tased for possibly not resisting.
Ben: Good point. I would hate that. Did you lose something?
Donnie: (eventual sigh of relief – still has wallet & cell phone) What?…no…no. We bumped into each other is all. No, we’re good. So I see the place has been cleaned up?
Ben: Yes sir. Managed to get those shrink wrapped pallets of kick back mon…
Donnie: Dues Ben. Club dues.
Ben: Oh Right. Dues. My bad. Managed to get them all down the tree and under your mattress in the residence. It wasn’t easy though.
Ben: Well the Secret Service. They get all prickly. “You want in the residence of the PRESIDENT why?” “You wanna hide stuff under the PRESIDENT’S mattress why? “That guy with you speaks Russian why?” “You want my foot off your neck why?” So many questions. They’re really sticklers with this whole security thi…
Donnie: …I know, seriously. It’s really annoying. And it’s not like I need it. I can take care of myself.
Ben: They spoon feed you apple sauce and meds sir and call you Treezy.
Donnie: Hey that’s completely different…and between you and me. Plus, they like calling me Treezy, Kanye came up with it. Kind of a pet name thing and it’s my “designation” when I’m “on the move” You told them you’re my boy though right? After all the questions? What you’re doing is on my orders right?
Ben: Yes…they still didn’t like it thou…
Donnie: …they’re not paid to like it Ben. Just to loyally turn their heads when need be and keep my money from getting shot…keep ME, I mean, from gettin’ shot by some fucking crazed liberal or worse.
Donnie: Could be a brown one.
Ben: Oh, yes. Another good point sir. Brown. Be careful of the brown ones.
Donnie: Yeh, Miller warns me of the danger all the time.
Ben: Stephen is ever vigilant sir when it comes to brown.
Donnie: Writes some damn fine, fan the flames speeches for me too. Gets people all “Us vs Them” riled up. I love it!
Ben: Yes. He’s quite the incendiary poet sir. A little creepy, but quite the poet.
Donnie: Just a little creepy?
Ben: Well, Ok, a lot creepy, but that’s not for me to say.
Donnie: You just said it.
Ben: I did, didn’t I?
Donnie: Yes. You did.
Ben: Sorry, nothing gets by you sir.
Donnie: No, it doesn’t. And you’re Ok. He really is a creepy little son a bitch.
Ben: Well, I’ll let you say that sir.
Donnie: I just did. But he’s MY creepy little son of a bitch.
Ben: Right you are. Good to have his creepy on our side. But back to our point, lowering everything down by rope can be quite challenging.
Donnie: You had help though, right?
Ben: Yes. I went to Home Depot like you said, early in the morning, found some day guys, loaded them in the White House pickup truck…
Donnie: (quick anger) The White House pickup truck!!!
Ben: (fearful) …ummm, yes sir?…the White Hou…
Donnie: Jesus Christ Ben!! You can’t use an official White House vehicle! Especially not the pickup truck!
Ben: But it was the old one sir, you know, that one that no one wants to drive because it’s a money pit and breaks down all the time, needs an alignment ’cause it’s always pulling to the right, has a Jesus bobblehead, can’t pass emmissions regs and still has a Reagan sticker on it?
Donnie: (heavy sigh) Yes! Exactly! THAT pickup truck. But doesn’t it still say White House on it?
Ben: It’s faded.
Donnie: Whatever Ben. Faded or not it still says White House. You HAVE to use something a little more discreet next time. I mean, hell, you gotta have family members that have a beater for shit like this. I mean you all drive beaters right?
Donnie: Never mind. You said it can be challenging?
Ben: Yes. Besides the difficulty of lowering everything down by rope those day guys were a little tough to give direction to.
Donnie: What’s tough Ben? You just point at stuff, make some insistent hand gestures and then pay them cash when they’re done. Fantasitc salads by the way.
Ben: I know that sir, one of my better lunches recently, I love the corn, but aren’t there any government employees or others, ones that speak English, that could do the job? Any that could use the overtime or just USE the work?
Donnie: Whoa there Benny Boy! Don’t go gettin’ all maverick on me with this talk of overtime…and no, they won’t do the job. Some shit about it being below them. Plus this is tax free. Promise the cash, get the job done, and drive ’em back to Home Depot…done…but in a DIFFERENT pickup truck next time.
(Treehouse doorbell rings in tune “Someone’s knockin’ at the door, Somebody’s ringin’ the bell”)
Donnie: What the fuck is that?
Ben: Ummmm, a doorbell sir?
Donnie: I get that Ben! But when the hell did we get a doorbell? A singing fucking doorbell?
Doorbell: “Someone’s knockin’ at the door, Somebody’s ringin’ the bell”)
Ben: When “Zoo” Zinke ordered you that new impressive door for the Treehouse here they threw in a doorbell. A fancy one that sings.
Doorbell: “Do me a favor, Open the door and let ’em in”
Donnie: It IS a nice door.
Ben: It really is.
Donnie: Cool tune too.
Ben: I know.
Donnie: Is that a Beatle?
Ben: I think so sir.
Donnie: Loved those guys. Sad that they weren’t American.
Ben: I agree.
Donnie: They SHOULD have been American. We should have forced them to be American.
Ben: I continue to agree, though this was McCartney solo.
Ben: This was Paul McCartney solo sir. He wasn’t a Beatle then.
Donnie: Oh. good. ‘Cause if he was I would have called for his birth certificate.
Ben: Why sir?
Donnie: To prove he wasn’t American…duh.
Ben: But we already knew he wasn’t Ameri…
Donnie: So does this special Zinke door have one of those eye thingys?
Doorbell (again): “Someone’s knockin’ at the door. Somebody’s ringin’ the bell”
Donnie: Eye thingys Ben. You know, to see who’s on the other side of the door?
Ben: Oh, yes. Right there. (pointing to the middle of the door)
Doorbell: “Someone’s knockin’ at the door. Somebody’s ringin’ the bell”
Donnie: (peering through eye thingy) It’s a guy with…balloons?
Ben: (pretending surprise) Oh….REALLY??…a guy with balloons??…I wonder what HE could POSSSIBLY want?? Maybe you should let him in?
Donnie: Well, alrig…
Doorbell: “Do me a favor, Ope…”
Donnie: SHUT UP DOORBELL!!!…
Doorbell: “…n and let ‘e…….” (dying doorbell sound)
Donnie: …Wow, that was cool for like 5 seconds. Really, should I let him in?
Ben: (with a wide smile) I think you should.
(balloon messenger enters singing)
“Oh say Ken-nedy, by the dawn’s backwards light…”
Ben: It’s a thing sir. Or it used to be. All about throwback these days.
“…what so Duetsche bank we bor-rowed, at the twilight of democracy.
Whose broad strokes of court’s pen, a loyal future so bright
what a gift was brought us, through an unright partisan fight”
Donnie: Wow, this guy’s got some lungs
Ben: I know huh?
“And the rockets…”
Donnie: Ooooooh, I like rockets.
Ben: I know you do sir.
Donnie: Think we can parade them?
Ben: Oh. I’m sure we can sir.
“…and the rockets red flair, Putin tousling my hair…”
Donnie: Damn, this is good.
Ben: Chills sir.
“…gave proof to the right, that our flag was still my prop…”
Donnie: That one is a little off.
Ben: Yeh, just a bit
Donnie: Not the lyric. it just came off a bit…flat ya know?
Ben: With ya sir
“…Oh say does that red, white and no blue banner yeeeeeeeet Maaaaagaaaaa…”
“…O’er…” (singer stops) Hold on. Favorite part. I love singing “O’er”
Donnie: Love hearing it!
“…O’er the land of wealthy elite…and the home of the…whoever’s dumb enough to buy into my cult of personality and follow me down autocracy road”
Donnie: Bravo!! Though that last bit didn’t really fit. A little long I think.
Singer: Sorry sir. Got carried away.
Donnie: It’s Ok son. Let those sons of bitches kneel to that! Inspiring! Do you have any young girls in matching shirts who can sing it with you?
Singer: I’m sure I could find some.
Donnie: A family of sisters?
Singer: No problem sir.
Donnie: Brown shirts?
Singer: Certainly sir.
Donnie: Great! I’ll call Laura. Kellyanne too. They’ll be Sooooooo excited. The balloons are very cool too. Square. Very retro I’m guessing? Turn of the centrury images of sweat shops are a nice touch.
Ben: That was my idea. They’re even filled with hydrogen for effect.
Donnie: (pat on the head) this calls for a cigar.
Ben: Careful with that cigar sir.
Donnie: Clam it Ben.
Donnie: (aside) You got any cash on ya?
Donnie: For a tip numbnuts.
Ben: Oh right. (confused) What?…You tip?
Donnie: Never. But It’ll be your money and look like me.
Ben: Smart sir.
Donnie: I know.