The Trump Treehouse of Tall Stories, Treason & Tyranny – Ep #7: "Is It Just A Tan?"

(The Official Secret Clubhouse of the He-Man Truth & Tan Haters Club)

Last we saw our dynamically inept duo? 

(trying to pull a body up the tree)

Paul: Hold your end turtle!

(rope slips)

Mitch: Stop calling me turtle!

(rope slips further)

Mitch: And why do you call me turtle anyway?

Paul: ’cause you look like one out of its’ shell.

Mitch: Oh, well that’s the just mean…shit!

(rope slips a bit more)

Paul: And stop calling me risky!

Mitch: But that one’s so obvious! Check the deficit!

(rope lets go)

Paul: Son of  a bitch!!

Mitch: Told you!!

(plop sound. moans)

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Paul: Dammit!! (sheepishly) He’s not dead is he?

Mitch: I don’t know Paul. I’m not a doctor.

Paul: You’re not?

Mitch: No.

Paul: I thought all congressman were automatically doctors.

Mitch: No Paul, we just think that way.

Paul: Gotcha. “We’re not really doctors” Noted.

Guy: (muffled from under a hood) I’m not dead.

Paul: Put your finger on his throat.

Mitch: What?

Paul: Do that finger on the throat thing, like they do on TV.

Mitch: I don’t know how that works.

Guy: I’m all good. You don’t need to.

Paul: Me neither. I just know they do it on television and then maybe shake their heads with sadness.

Mitch: Ok, and?

Paul: Just do it!!

Mitch: Fine!! (puts finger on Guy’s throat)

Guy: Hey (he he) that tickles.

Mitch: I got nothin’

Paul: What’s nothin’?

Mitch: I don’t know numbnuts. Nothing. I just felt his neck.

Guy: I’m fine by the way

Paul: Is it still warm?

Mitch: Sure Paul, his neck is still warm. But if he JUST died he’d still be warm anyway.

Paul: I just wanna feel better about this. Warm is good for right now.

Guy: I didn’t JUST die you guys.

Paul and Mitch: Shut up!!!

Guy: Sorry.

Paul: Try the throat ag….

Mitch: Enough with the throat Paul. I’ve tried. He’s still warm. That’s all I got.

Guy: You’re looking for a pulse.

Mitch: What?

Guy: You’re looking for a pulse. That’s the finger on the throat thing.

Mitch: Really?

Guy: Yeh, a pulse, feel the blood moving. Mine is moving by the way and I’ve got one.

Mitch: One what?

Guy: A pulse.

Paul: Don’t believe him turtle. That’s what they all want. For us to believe they’re alive.

Mitch: But he IS alive

Guy: He’s right, breathing here.

Paul: Bullshit. I think he’s definitely dead.

Guy: I’m not dead.

Paul: So you say. No, Mitch we need to bury him in the backyard. I’m sure Donnie has another shoebox on his bookshelf he can use (after he empties out more of those fucking rocks). And even if he’s not REALLY dead I’d just be so much more comfortable with knowing he’s somebody elses problem.

Guy: Whoa!! Who else’s problem am I if I’m buried alive in the backyard in a shoebox?

Paul: …ummmm…I don’t kn….Gods’…yeh, your God’s problem then. I talk to him you know.

Mitch: Yes, we know..and it’s really annoying. But we brought him here for a reason.

Paul: We did?

Mitch: Yeh, the boss will want to see him.

Paul: He will?

Mitch: Jesus, you’re dim…yes, that’s why we were pulling him up the tree in the first place.

Paul: Oh, right. Hey! Not dead guy! Time to meet your maker!

Mitch: Paul (sigh)…you only say that if you’re gonna kill someone.

Paul: He’s not already dead?

Mitch: (twice sigh) No Paul, we established that, you just talked to him.

Paul: Right. Ok, again…Hey! Not dead guy, are you ready to meet…

Mitch: Paul?…

Paul: …my bad. I get stuck in a loop sometimes, like trying to justify the Tax Cut Scam. Alright then…the boss wants to see you not dead guy!

Guy: Ummmm…

Mitch: Can you at least pull this time? (grabbing the rope again)

////////////////////////

Donnie: (looking down the tree) Hey, what the fuck are you two doing?

Ben: It’s hard to find Sir.

Donnie: What’s that?

Ben: Good help.

Donnie: I know. Tell me about it. That’s why I’ll bet a good taco salad is completely out of the question right now. But they do have my back.

Ben: There is that sir, it’s just that…

Donnie: Spit it out Alfred…I mean Ben.

Ben: Awww, you’re warming to the idea aren’t you?

Donnie: ?

Ben: Never mind.

Donnie: No, they’ve got my back. Literally, check out their blood autographs right her…

Ben: …please don’t take off your shirt Sir.

Donnie: Why?

Ben: I just ate.

Donnie: Ok, point. But they’ve been right here….

Ben: …I know, the whole time, compromising whatever amounts to self respect these days, selling out Country for party and greed, enabling your delusions, turning a blind eye to you destroying our Democracy, siding with Putin, blah blah blah…(changing subject) How about we just see what this is all about?

Donnie: Right. Yes. (shouting down the tree)  Hey you two!! So what is this…sorry, getting a little lost here…

Ben: …what is this all about?

Donnie: Exactly! So what is this all about?….

////////////////////////////////////////////

Paul: (looking up the tree) We’ve got one sir.

Donnie: One what?

Paul: A sympathiser sir.

Donnie: Is that bad?

Paul: Well of course sir. A sympathiser to the resistence sir? Can’t have sympathisers. Gotta keep ’em line.

Donnie: Isn’t Dan Donovan working on that?

Paul: He is. And kudos to him. He’s trying to unmask them.

Donnie: That doesn’t include pointy hoods does it?

Paul: Not sure.

Donnie: Cause I’m fan of the pointy hoods. And body armor. I like body armor. It looks so freakin’ cool! And Tiki Torches.

Paul: We’ll make sure it doesn’t. (jotting a note: pointy hoods are OK – body armor – Tiki Torches)

Donnie: Great.

Guy: Still here you guys

///////////////////////////////////////////////////

(after finally being pulled up the tree)

Donnie: Right in front of me boys! So what do you have to say for yourself Guy?!

Guy: (still muffled under hood) My name’s not Guy.

Donnie: It’s not?

Guy: No.

Donnie: Really? But it says so right here.

Guy: That’s just to denote A guy in the script. My name is actually Steve.

Donnie: (fingers on chin)…hmmmmm.

Paul: It’s a trick sir!! He doesn’t have real name. None of them do!

Donnie: Shut up Paul.

Guy: The hood is nice.

Donnie: What?

Guy: The kidnap hood. Fur lined is a nice touch.

Donnie: What?…right.  I know huh? That’s all Ivanka.

Guy: She’s got a certain flair.

Donnie: She does, Shes so much better at this than me. She told me Trump branding dead cows wouldn’t really sell. Did I listen? No. She warned against the Vodka too, though she might have been a little short sighted on that one

Guy: I know, from the mouths of babes huh?

Donnie: You fucking with me?!!

Guy: Ummmm, no sir

Donnie: Good. So why are you here?

Guy: Well…your guys kidnapped me. Can I take off the hood?

Donnie: Kidnapped? You two kidnapped him? And no…you’re our floor model, plus we’re still waiting on the Chinese trademark. And it’ll be huge in Mexico.

Paul: Well, not quite kidnapped…more…umm…aquired. We thought you might like to know what the resist….

Guy: Aquired?! You had your goons grab me outside a coffee shop at gun point!

Paul: No we didn’t!

Guy: Yes you did! And one of them was small, looked like an evil little elf wearing tiny jackboots. Big ears.

Donnie: Shit…fucking Sessions! I told him not to go out in the field. Guys, I have no room left in the backyard.

Mich: We know that si…

Donnie: No, I actually have have no room left in the backyard. There’s like 30 plus shoeboxes buried out there and now almost all of my treasured bookshelf rocks are boxless. Flynn, Manafort, Page, White Bomb Bannon, T-Rex, McMaster, some chick who made a joke about McCain which I didn’t find in poor taste at all, Prissy Price, Popadopalot or something like that, Gates, Spicer, Hagin, selfish bastard never invited me to one of his parties, Pinky Pruitt, my girl Hope (chokes up a bit “just like a daughter I never got to date”), that sleazy Italian Mooch guy who worked for me for like 5 minutes, the wife beater, a bunch of lawyers sticking me with Rudy, LewanDickski, Precious Priebus and now a dozen or so Russians including that really hot gun toting one…shit that’s lot of shoeboxes Mitch!…plus my back hurts from all the shoveling. I’ll have to start burying them on top of each other at this rate.

Mitch: You won’t have to bury this one sir. I’ve got a better idea.

Donnie: Oh, you do do you turtle?

Mitch: Oh, you too?

Donnie: It’s got a ring to it.

Mitch: (sigh) You won’t have to bury this one. I’m thinking we just drop him right in the Potomac.

Donnie: Concrete shoes?

Mitch: Sure.

Donnie: And weighted? With heavy chains? Just like in the movies?

Mitch: Of course.

Donnie: Now that’s cool!! So Mob like. And I’ll have a nickname too, like Donnie “The Diaper” or Donnie “The Disaster”

Mitch: Those aren’t very flattering sir.

Donnie: No? You don’t think?

Mitch: No

Donnie: Wait! How ’bout Donnie “The Disastrous Diaper” That could be like a signature. I stuff a disastrous diaper in their mouths.

Mitch: No sir.

Donnie: Can we at least video it? On my phone?

Mitch: Probably best not to.

Donnie: Yeh, you’re right. Just do it an have lunch. Is that taco salad done?

Ben: I’ll check sir.

Guy: And have lunch?! Hey!! I’m right here ya know!

Donnie: Shut up Steve! So what do you know?

Guy: (still muffled) …Uhhhhhhh…

Donnie: What?

Guy: I said…uhhhhhhh.

Donnie: Oh, take that fucking hood of him already.

Guy: (Paul takes off the hood) …whew, that’s better. The fur lined is nice but a bit warm and it get’s stuck in your throat.

Paul: I know what will get him to talk sir.

Guy:..you all got a coke or something here? A Fresca? Maybe a glass of water?

Paul: Mitch. Bring it in.

Mitch: You sure? It’s a little extreme.

Paul: Gotta do what ya gotta do right?

Mitch: (hangs head – walks into the next room) You’re right.

Guy: (as Mitch exits the room)…So no water I guess?

Paul: Oh, YOU’LL get water my friend

(Mitch comes back rolling in a chalkboard)

Paul: Oh, you’re definitely gonna talk now!

Guy: Is that a chalkboard?

(Mitch banging erasers together) Menacing huh?

Guy: ?

Mitch: It’s menacing right?

Guy: What? You clapping erasers together?

Mitch: Just wait (banging into bigger clouds)…how about now Steeeeeevvve?

Paul: (pulls out some chalk and starts drawing)

Guy: What the hell is that?

Paul: Does this SCAAAAAARE you Steve?

Guy: Is that?…are you drawing drops of water?

Paul: Yes I am Steve…on this chalkboard. Are you ready to talk NOW?

Guy: Wait…seriously?

Paul: What?

Guy: Water drawn on a board? Really? You know that’s not how that works right?

Paul: It’s not?

Guy: No. You’re supposed to have me upside down with a towel or something over my head while you pour…

Donnie: (frantically stands up) Towelhead?! Where!!??

Mitch: Relax sir!

Donnie: Sorry. A knee-jerk thing.

Mitch: We understand.

Guy: …while you pour water on me till I can’t breathe.

Paul: Well, shit. That’s how that really works? Kind of inhumane.

Guy: I know huh?

Donnie: (Grabbing a light bulb and getting right in Steve’s face) You’re probably wondering why we grabbed you outside that coffee shop aren’t you Steve?

Guy: Well, yeh, that thought did occur to me. And what’s with the light bulb?

Donnie: For your interrogation Steve. Duh.

Guy: But it’s not lit. It’s not screwed into anything.

Donnie: Shut up Steve! We grabbed you because…ummmm. (whispering aside to Paul – “why did we grab him?”)

Paul: (still in aside, whispering “because we think he’s Antifa sir…and possibly an organizer”)

Donnie: (“really? That’s bad right? What’s Antifa?”)

Paul: (“Anti facist left wing radicals sir”)

Donnie: (“ANTI fascist? But wait, isn’t that good? Being anti fascist?”)

Paul: (“Not in your case sir”)

Donnie: (“ok…I’ll take your word for it”)…we grabbed you because you’re an Antifa radical!!!

Guy: What? No! I was just grabbing a cup of coffee. And even if I was, wouldn’t being ANTI fascist be a good thing.

Donnie: Yes, of course…wait…no…dammit I’m so confused.

Paul: Sir?!

Guy: I was just grabbing a cup of coffee…

Paul: “Just grabbing a cup of coffee?” You make me laugh antifa pig.

Guy: (sigh)

Paul: Weren’t you thinking of organizing a protest?!

Guy: By grabbing a cup of coffee?

Mitch: C’mon now Steve. Look at the board!! WITH WATER DROPS DRAWN ON IT!!
Tell the truth Steve!

Guy: (to self “Jesus Christ”)…Ok, whatever. I stepped out of line.

Mitch: AAAAAAANNNNND?

Guy: My wife called…

Paul: …now we’re getting somewhere…

Guy: …and I stepped out of the line to take the call. I didn’t want to be rude.

Paul: …”didn’t want to be rude”…that’s rich, like YOU’RE concerned with civility.

Mitch: …isn’t it true that you stepped out of the line to allow two immigrants ahead of you?

Guy: Two immigrants?

Mitch: Yes!

Guy: You mean Bob and Tammy?

Paul: Oh there you go, giving them names. That’s how it starts.

Mitch: Shut up Paul! Yeh sure, Bob and Tammy, whatever you say Steve…

Guy: …no, really, that was Bob and Tammy. They’re friends of mine. Live next door. My wife called and…

Mitch: …but they’re brown. Stephen Miller warns us about them all the time…

Donnie: …Browns?! Where?! Somebody get Steve King on the line. Browns!!!

Mitch: …relax sir…

Donnie: …sorry, can’t help it…

Mitch: …it’s Ok sir…

Guy: …they’re not brown. They just got back from vacation in the Keys. They have tans.

Mitch: (stops) …tans?

Guy:…yeh, tans.

Paul: …uhhh, just tans?

Guy: …yeh, that’s it…tans

Paul: …well I uh…just tans…really?…they still shouldn’t have names though…

Mitch: Cut him loose Paul.

Paul: Why? Cutting him loose is a mistake!! There’s more here I know it.

Mitch: Shut up Paul.

(on the phone)

Steve King: Hello? Iowa White National Hotline. If you ain’t white you ain’t right. He He. That shit just makes me laugh…who’s this?

Donnie: KING!!! WE GOT BROWNS!!

Mitch: Sir, please calm down.

Guy: Can I get a soda? That Fresca?

Paul: Shut up Steve!! This isn’t your mom’s kidnapping!

Guy: Sorry.

Steve King: Is that you Mr President?

Donnie: YEH! BROWNS KINGY!!

Steve King: ALERT!!! MOBILIZE!!! PREZ SAYS WE GOT BROWNS!!!

Donnie: Mitch, call Miller – I need a speech! We’re going to IOWA!!








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