Or How I Imagine The Conversation Went
“It’s okay, George….the doors have been sealed for our protection and privacy,” Chancellor Merkel assured.
“Uh….yeah…uh…well. heh. You see, Ms. Merkel, it’s like this: I’m not sure I trust a country that said ‘Fuck you’ to America when we needed you.”
“All of your SS agents are outside guarding you, just as mine are. Would you like some tea? Or maybe something stronger, like a….how do you say? …Jack on the Rocks?”
“Well, thank yuh….I just might do that—ah mean, drink that.”
“Coming right up! Anything for a freund, right George?”
“I’m used to people calling me ‘Mr. President,’ Ma’am.”
“Of course you are, Mr. George, of course you are. And rightly so.”
“Why did you ask me here?”
“It’s because you say you are a Christian, George.”
“Of course I am! Who’s sayin’ ahm not?!”
“Nobody, George, nobody!”
“Well, Angie….uh, can ah call you that, Ms. Merkel?”
“That’s Angela, or MRS. Merkel, to you, Mr. George.”
“Why don’t you call me ‘Mr. President’ like everyone else?”
“Well, I think that’s not the important thing right now---by the way, how’s your Jack?”
(taking a gulp) “Heh! That’s the ticket! Nothin’ like a taste o’ home.”
“Good, George! I’m glad we can be of service to our freund in America.”
“Look, I’d be much obliged if one of my boys was in here with us, y’know what uh mean?”
“You fancy boys, Mr. George?”
“Whaddaya mean? Ahm talkin’ about muh boys in the secret service!”
“Oh, of course, your SS boys. Like I said, they are waiting outside. Shall I get them some Jack Rocks as well, Mr. George?”
“Look, Merkel…uhhh….you cain’t scare a Texan with all this Euro-Femi-nazi….crap! I know Germans voted for you, and prob’ly some Frenchies as well. But they said you was a CHRISTIAN, GOD DAMMIT!”
“George, you’re upset. Take a drink.”
(gulping) “Ahhhh. Right. Like ah wuz sayin…”
“You want to know why I asked you here, George?”
“Uh, now would be the time, Merkel honey. Heh”
“Well, after you invited me to your ranch and shoveled all that beef down my neck, I had to return the favor.”
“You got beef for me?”
“Not exactly.”
“Heh! Not that it would hold a, y’know, candle to Texas beef!”
“Of course not, George. We have no beef with Texas. Here we deal strictly in schwein. Schwein of the highest quality.”
“Well, let’s pork!”
“Whatever do you mean, George?”
“Let’s get animal! Physical! Ah wanna get ANIMAL! Let’s get into animal, lemme hear yer body talk, body talk!”
“I’m calling the SS boys in now, George. You are acting strange.”
“NO!!! NOT THE SS!!! Uhhh. Wait... Yours or mine….heh heh”
“I’m going to tell you something you are not going to want to hear, George.”
“uhhhhhhh…”
“The fact is, George, you are about to be replaced by a black man. Yes, it terrifies you. A good old Texas boy like you, sure it does. But they are taking over the world. One nation at a time. I just spoke with him last week and—“
“—NOT HIM! Tell me yer not talkin’ bout HIM!”
“—that’s right, George, I’m talking about Mr. Barack Obama.”
“STOP!!!! RED ALERT!!!! EAGLE IN TROUBLE!!! CRASH THE OVAL OFFICE!!!”
“George, you’re being silly! Nobody can come in here! I told you that. And we are not in your little Oval Office.”
“bb…but, I AM THE PRESIDENT! Of the YOU NIGHTED STATES!”
“Of course, George, we know that. Take another drink. Here, have the whole bottle.”
(glug glug glug) “Ahhhh. That’s better. Yuh got any coke, Angie?”
“Ein Coca Cola? Sure! One mome-“
“NO! I meant the white powdery refreshment, baby cakes.”
“Now George, my Christian Democratic Party wouldn’t approve of me giving the U.S. President anything other than bier, bratwurst, pretzels, or Jack Rocks.”
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