Comey Meets the @realDonaldTrump #heebie-jeebies

Nobody wants to be near this guy. Nobody wants to be alone in a room with him.  Hell, even Melania doesn’t want to hold his hand, much less be left in a room with him. Hard to believe someone would not want a private meeting with the third most powerful person in the world behind Angela Merkel and Oprah Winfrey.

Here’s what really happened in that one-on-one meeting between Donald and Comey that led him to tell Sessions, “Don’t ever leave me alone with him again.”

Fade in. A meeting is breaking up in the White House. Close-up of president.

Trump: “Okay, everybody out. I want to talk to Jimbo alone.

Sessions: “But, Mr. President, that’s highly…”

Trump: “Don’t give me any shit Jeff or I’ll banish you back to Middle Earth where I found your Hobbit ass.”

Bannon: “Me too, chief?”

Trump: “Yeah, you too. Don’t forget to take your cape, hood and scythe. You leave that thing on the floor all the time and I keep stubbing my toes on it. I don’t need any more bone spurs in my feet.”

Bannon: “Aw, not fair. Does Steve Miller get to stay?”

Trump: “Nope, him too. C’mon Steve Miller, Fly Like an Eagle right on out of here. That’s an order.”

Miller: “Yes my Covfefe.”

Trump: “Where’s Flynn? Mike is that you hiding behind the curtains? I see your shoes sticking out from the bottom of the curtain. Nice try. Let’s go!”

Flynn: “Of course, my Covfefe. As you say.”

Trump: “Mike, push the Kush out with you.”

Kushner opens his mouth to protest, but no words come out.

Trump: “Sorry son, I don’t read lips.”

Finally, the room is cleared, except for Comey, who stands stunned, looking at Trump.

Comey: “Now what?”

Trump: “Now we go into the War Room. Well, it was going to be a War Room, but no one showed up for the war. So, I had it converted into a spa. C’mon, let’s jump in the hot tub.”

Comey: “I don’t know…”

Trump: “Oh, c’mon. It’ll be fun and very relaxing.”

They enter the converted War Room where a large, circular hot tub is full of swirling hot water and steam rising off the surface of the bubbly brew. The two men disrobe and gently slip into the hot tub, sitting at opposite ends, facing each other.

Trump: “Ah-h-h-h, this is the life isn’t it Jimbo. May I call you Jimbo?”

Comey: “No…”

Trump: “Jimbo, I need to ask you some very, very important questions.”

Comey: “Okay.”

Trump: “Do you like being FBI Director? Pretty cool being the top cop in the US. Walking in J. Edgar’s shoes. You like that?”

Comey: “Of course.”

Trump: “Of course you do. J. Edgar was a loyal man. Are you a loyal man, Jimbo?”

Comey: “It’s James…

”Trump: “He was loyal to the FBI, the United States, to Clyde Tolson, but especially to the president. I’d like you to be as loyal to me as J. Edgar was to Clyde Toolson. Can you do that?”

Comey: “I don’t know…”

Trump: “You know Hoover and Tolson used to dress up as women, put on high heels, make-up, listen to jazz, slow dance and bitch slap each other over cocktails.”

Comey: “That's just a vicious rumor.”

Trump: “Not a rumor. Alex Jones reported it on his radio program. Not a rumor. So, let me ask you this, do you prefer snails or clams?”

Comey: “Huh?”

Trump: “Simple question. Snails or clams. Which do you prefer?”

Comey: “Sir, I’m from Yonkers. We don’t get much seafood there.”

Trump: “Don’t worry about that Jimbo. I got us out of that stupid Paris climate change deal. In a few years, Yonkers will be fucking prime beachfront property. I’ll probably build a hotel there.”

Comey: “Mr. President…”

Trump: “Please, call me El Covfefe. All my underlings do”

Comey: “Okay. El Covfefe, I’m very uncomfortable with this conversation.”

Trump: “Sure. You’re worried you will be unable to walk in Hoover’s shoes, or fit in them and his dresses as well. No problem. Ivanka has designed some custom dresses for your tall frame and shoes for those gun boats hanging off your ankles.”

Comey: “No, I really…”

Trump claps his hands and beckons for Manuel, his personal valet, to bring in the clothes Ivanka has made for Comey.

Trump: “Manuel. Yo, ¡Manny! La ropa para Jimbo por favor!”

Manuel: “Si, mi Covfefe.”

Trump: “They are gorge clothes. All the rage in Jina and Moscow.”

Comey: “I’ll try them on when I get home. But I really think I should be leaving.”

Trump: “Fine. Fine. If I have your loyalty and you promise to tell everyone I had nothing to do with the Russians---although, between you and me, I’m in Putin’s pocket like a cheap handkerchief---and you lay off Flynn.’’

Comey: “There’s no way I could…”

Trump: “Good. Good. Let me ask you this. I’m thinking of unloading Sessions and replacing him with either Richard Simmons, Rue Paul or Harvey Fierstein. Wanna get some outsider, non-political, LGBT-type to be my Attorney General. Who do you like?”

Comey: “I hear good things about Fierstein. He’s loyal.”

Trump: “Done! Harvey Fierstein it is. You know, Jeff was a total failure as Attorney General. Every time he got in the hot tub with me, he’d lay bubble farts. Still thought he was swimming in some Alabama creak, I guess.”

Suddenly, Comey’s face grows tight with unease and he sits upright.

Comey: “Uh, Mr. President…I mean…El Covfefe. Are you tickling the bottom of my feet with your toes?”

Trump: “Maybe.”