by Janet Golden and Roz Warren
Carly? It’s Donald. I’m sounding out possible running mates. If I asked you to run with me, would you say yes?
Carly Fiorina: Grateful for the offer, Donald, but no can do. I’ve got blood coming out of my whatever.
Donald: Governor Kasich? It’s Donald. Do you have a minute?
Kasich: Wish I had time to chat with you, Donald, but the Watchtower folks are at the door and I don‘t want to keep them waiting.
Donald: Hey Condie! Want to be my running mate?
Condoleezza Rice: I’d rather be crushed to death by a falling piano.
Donald: Jeff? Would you be interested in serving as my Vice President?
Jeff Sessions: I’d love to, Donald, but I’ve got an elderly cat and he hates the cat carrier. I just can’t see making him endure a long flight on Air Force One. But thanks for asking.
Donald: Little Marco? It’s me, big Donald. Want to be my VP?
Marco Rubio: Sorry, Donald, but as we proud Cuban-Americans say, “No, Gracias.”
Donald: Governor? Any chance I could get you to run as my VP?
Nikki Haley: Sorry, but there’s someone on the other line. Gotta go. [click]
Donald: Susana? Want to join my ticket and fly Trump airlines to the White House?
Susana Martinez: Gee I’d love to, but I’m waiting for a new lint filter on my dryer and I can’t be in Washington when they come to install it.
Donald: Hey Doc — want to run with me?
Ben Carson: You do realize that I know even less about foreign policy than you do?
Donald: Who cares? Running this country ain’t brain surgery.
Ben Carson: It’s not? Okay then, I’m in! Did you know that I once almost killed a guy with a knife?
Donald: Vince? We met when you attended my rally in West Chester in April. I’m hearing great things about your work with the block party committee. Really great. As I understand it, you folks built a huge barrier out of orange tape and got the city to pay for it. I’m calling to talk to you about a job, Vince. A huge job. A terrific job. A job that isn’t for losers. What do you say, Vince? Are you with me?