William Southold | Opinion Columnist |The Southold Report
“Speaking fiction to power one story at a time.”
Veritas Per Ficta!
Donald Trump attacked Anthony Scaramucci (again) on Twitter this morning, just as I was finishing this story you are reading now. I had tracked Scaramucci down this weekend at Tate’s Bake Shop in Southampton. I had gotten the word that he was crazy for their in season, fresh picked raspberry scones, and why wouldn’t he be, I was chowing down on one when I saw him come through the door.
I gave him time to make his order and sit down before I approached him, and asked for a word. He took one look at his phone and shut it down before he looked up and said, “Sure, have a seat. I know you.”
I don’t know which surprised me more, the fact that he knew me, or the fact that he graciously allowed me to join him. It was early, and we were the only two seated on the far side, furthest from the counter.
“I know you,” he repeated, “I’ve seen you around D.C. Tell me your name again.”
I did, and he responded, “Oh, yeah, the Fake News guy.”
“None other."
“Hey, you know I was once a Fake HouseGuest on Celebrity Big Brother 2.”
“Celebrity Big Brother . . .?”
“A show I was on once. It was a blast. You didn’t see it. That’s OK. So what can I do for you Mr. Fake News Guy?”
“Well,” I said, trying to get right to it, “you’ve been all over the news lately, encouraging people . . .”
“To think for themselves” he cut me off. “We are in a terrible fix, our country of ours, and we need to do something about it. Quickly. Bigly, as my old but briefest of bosses might have said it.”
He sounded hopped up on coffee, but there was no food or drink in front of him.
“I’ve heard you’re working with Bill Kristol, to come up with a challenger to your once brief boss,” I said.
Just then the waitress brought his order over. Yep, raspberry scone. Nailed it!
“Thank you, Margaret. Looks great,” he told her.
“Always is,” she said, and turned and left.
“You know, it’s always important to thank your service people, by name. By name,” he repeated. They don’t always stay as waitresses, or whatever. People need recognition! Now, what were we talking about? I gotta tell ya, I come in here to work, so . . .” hands extended, palms up, phone at the ready, with a little shrug.
I took it as intended, to bring our brief conversation to an end.
“So any comment on Kristol?” I asked him, making ready to get up.
“Something’s gotta be done, I can tell you that, and Kristol’s a man who can pull it all together.
He paused a moment, in thought. “You know, everybody thought I got fired because of my profanity laced tirade. The truth is, I wanted out. Do you know what was the last thing Trump asked me to do?”
“You mean before you . . . left as Communication Director?
“Yeah. The big guy could tell things were goin’ south with his Black Outreach” he liked to call it. He calls me into the Oval, and shows me this gold plated statue he had made. Says right on it, World’s Least Racist Person EVER!.
“He had a statue of himself, World’s Least Racist . . . “
“Yeah, you got it. He told me I had to find a Black celebrity, he wanted Iron Mike, or Dennis Rodman, or Kanye, that’s who he really wanted. He told me to find one of them, and tell them to present him with this statue. Like it was their idea.”
“That’s a little . . . bold.”
“Ya think? It’s bull goose looney! I said Boss, he used to like me to call him Boss, I said you can’t ask someone else to lie for you. You gotta go at it straight. There must be plenty of celebs willing to come out for you over racism. And he says, no, this is the way. It’s gotta be big. We can do the whole thing in the Rose Garden, it’s gotta be the gold plated statue.”
“I say, but it’s all a big lie you’re trying to pull off, you want someone to go on the record with your lie, and he says, Mooch, you know it’s my way or the highway around here. You get that much don’t you?”
“That was his response.”
“The Big Lie, the bigger the better. People need to stop putting up with it. I called him on it. He doesn’t like that one bit. Next thing I know, I got canned.”
“So, can I quote you on this?”
“Sure. Quote the hell out of me, all you want. People need to know this stuff. It’s time to pull the plug on this nut job.”
I left Mr. Scaramucci to his coffee and scone, and was working on this story when Trump unleashed his latest attack dog tweet on the Mooch. So, that’s the story at this hour. It’s bound to change, though. It’s about Trump.
Central News Service, proudly bringing you the fakest news anywhere, featuring our very own Pulitzer Prize winning Fake Newsman, William Southold
(CNS Disclaimer: Mr. Southold has in no way won the Pulitzer Prize.)