Limo Driving: A Presidential Pastime

The following is a parody.

Deposition transcript regarding January 6, 2021 inside the presidential limo-- testimony, Secret Service Agent (name classified) Classified name will be specified as either Agent xxxx or John Doe

Prosecutor: Just tell us what happened Agent xxxx

John Doe: It started out like any other early afternoon. The president had just finished his speech at the rally and wanted to ride shotgun in the limo. I took the backseat with the president's staff and advisers and let the president sit next to the Secret Service driver as we pulled out. We were headed back to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue-- the White House.

Prosecutor: Go on.

John Doe: When we got in the limo, it was a little cold so the president adjusted the heater. The president pulled out his favorite Elton John CD. He loved that CD. He wouldn't stop listening to it...(agent's voice falters)

Prosecutor: Its ok, Agent xxxx. Take your time.

John Doe: It was the song, Tiny Dancer. It was his favorite song. We tried to tell him Elton John had many other great hits, but he just wouldn't listen. He popped the CD in, it made that little click, and it started playing. Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

Prosecutor: That's a good song.

The prosecutor's voice fades away as the Agent remembers that day on the ride back to the White House.

The White House comes into view in the far distance. The driver who had been peckish all morning that day pulled out some double stuff chocolate Oreo cookies from underneath his seat. The president notices the crinkle noise of a plastic wrapper being opened and turns his head as his eyes focus on the cookies.

Overwhelmed with the desire for heavy calorie intake, the president says, "Give me those cookies!" Lunging at the secret service driver, his orange hair and yellow eyes aflame, the driver screams to the agents in the back, "This guy is fucking nuts! All you have to do is ask, Mr. President."

The president ignores the plea and says, "Give me those cookies! The fake news media wants to take them away from me." The president grabs the wheel of the limo. "You want to recuse yourself? Where did you learn how to drive-- the Nancy Pelosi School of Driving Dummies? You call this driving. I'll show you driving. You drive like how Obamacare insures sick people, you know that?" The limo swerves and curves narrowly missing a fire hydrant. The agent cries out, "Mr. President, let go of the wheel. You'll kill us all!"

"Believe me, folks, nobody is a better driver than me. I could drive this limo in my sleep. You know how many broads I've slept with in the backs of limos?"

"Mr. President, I believe you. Just let go of the wheel."

"If the vice-president were here right now, he'd probably ask Jesus to come and take the wheel. You ought to be happy someone who can actually drive is sitting up here in the front with you."

Surrendering in a panic, the secret service driver relinquishes the double stuff Oreo cookies-- the agent's favorite afternoon snack. "Here, just take the damn cookies." The president snatches them with his smaller than average-sized hands. "Thank you. You see, that wasn't so hard." The president greedily devours and consumes them like Danny DeVito eating a raw fish in Batman Returns.

The music continues. Count the headlights on the highway, lay me down in sheets of linen...

"I've had a very busy day today," the president says in tandem with the song as his mouth is half-filled with cookie. A gurgling, choking sound follows. The cookie crumbs start to clog his throat. Luckily, he has a half gallon thermos of Diet Coke and drinks his favorite soda as the aspartame bubbles in his brain.

Satiated by the orgasmic snacking, he turns to his shaken secret service driver who has been looking at the president nervously. The president says "What? What'd I do? You're looking at me like I deleted e-mails on a private server or something?" The driver looks straight ahead now, frustrated and fed up.

When the driver gets back, his boss demands a full and immediate debriefing.

"Why did he lunge at you?" The driver knowing that the Oreo cookie story strains credibility at best looks to the side trying hard to come up with a cover story. "Um...he wanted to go driving. He never drove a limo before. He wanted a chance at the steering wheel." The president says in agreement, "I'm an excellent driver. Dad lets me park it in the driveway. Yeah-yeah, definitely the driveway. Of course, Charlie Babbitt squeezed and pinched and hurt my neck."

The secret service chief looks at the driver more intently this time, his eyes wide and his brow furrowed. "Who the fuck is Charlie Babbitt?"

The driver says, "You got me, Chief."

The secret service chief nods. He lets out a sigh with a mix of bemused resignation and ample irritation written on his face. He leans over and whispers in the ear of his closest aide. "Just tell the other agents he was trying to take the wheel and drive to the Capitol, and we talked him out of it. I don't know what to say about this fucking guy anymore?"

"Chief--" someone squawks on the radio. "They've breached the Capitol!"

"Mother of God," the chief secret service agent says.

As the Secret Service Agent recounts his testimony for the deposition about the moments leading up to the riot and breach of the Capitol, the prosecutor sees he is physically exhausted and calls for a recess. The agent looks grateful and walks to the vending machines outside the deposition room. The prosecutor steps up to the agent to speak off the record.

"Just tell me one thing, Agent xxxx," the prosectuor says, "Be honest."

"Yes."

"Who dropped the ball on this one? How the fuck did those nut cakes get past security?"

“They weren’t nut cakes, they were cookies.”

The prosecutor face palms himself.