CRONES: GERIATRIC GODDESS (II)

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at Mara Lake Bump is fitting himself inside a wave of the indoor pool strewn with graystone gargoyles with their heads sawed off. he spots Taylor Swift emerging from the pool poolside. she wraps her new curls and new girls and new butt in a company T towel and the moment her pinky toe touches the cold stone of the pool edge roof tiles she is so startled to see Mickey she drops the towel back in the poolwater.

Taylor: look, dude, i just happen to be here when you are, it doesn't mean anything.

Bump: please stay. i brag to the media that i have friends, confidantes i challenge with my new earthshattering ideas but the only soundingboard here are these light-blue shower tiles. i feel comfortable with blondes. i see splashed all across the news this picture of this certain blonde woman with big boobs. she's everywhere. i have to check the scores on my watch to make sure my apple is set to NEWS and not NUDES. sometimes i cross my information and porn feeds.

Katie Ledecky emerges her dunked head from the pool. she's been holding her breath the whole time he's been there waiting for him to leave. she no longer wears a tight swim cap of the red S it's just red. she can allow her head to breathe and let her hair down literally.

Bump: Katie Ledecky? i saw you when i was checking the scores on my apple watch. you quit? wish i could. what are you gonna do now? remain taking classes? you have two more years of eligibility. after the Olympics college is a big mouthbreathing nothingburger. what do college records mean anyway? you've won everything there is to win. you've peaked before you're 30 that's dangerous look at me. you told SVP at ESPN you were gonna pursue professional opportunities? what the hell are professional opportunities for a swimmer? what is that? is there Major League Swimming on ESPN3?

Katie: *demonstrably* no, tv, movies, commercials, cereal, stuff like that, the usual.

Bump: do WWE like Ronda. give my son a call i can fix you right up with Vince. i'll take care of it. excuse yous i gotta call. hello? Stormy? one question, what were you doing in the bathroom that whole time when you were getting ready for me? primping perfect?

Stormy: no, i was on the toilet. what do men do on the can? i was reading a particularly juicy periodical. i was catching up on the chapters i missed from Fire and Fury. a little homework to keep me abreast and know what to watch out for in our encounter. always be prepared isn't that the Boy Scotus motto? gotta go now, Spanky.

Bump: a periodical for your period? nevermind, put Anderson on. Anderson? have you fundamentally changed from bagging both broads for the same interview?

Anderson: no, sir, i love me and you should love me, too, you're the President.

Bump: i think this constitutes talking on the phone with friends. it counts. i'm going outside.

also thinking about going outside are the MSNBC crew, crewing up after late night after late night with no date night.

Brian Williams: i can't take it anymore. all i see is a neverending teleprompter of Day This and Day That. when will this nightmare end? it's like a nighttime soap that you get hooked on that you don't want to get hooked on. i hear the drums in my head. it's forced me to wear handsomeless glasses to serve as a buffer between my ears.

Chris Matthews: i hear ya, pal, i gotta get out of here. we do. we gotta get out of this room, out of this environment, and sip the outside air. i need a long tall swill of Irish breath, the green gamey stuff. it's like i can't escape no matter how far i travel by air. i can't fit anymore. there is always something i don't know. what say we two date? let's go to a concert. wanna see a movie first? how about the Lego Get Out Movie or Fileting Dory?

Brian: did you see Lawrence O'Donnell recently? his very words have spilt out from his mouth and onto the lightboard behind him. i would never want my innermost thoughts revealed and made known and highlighted like that i would die. lesgo to Lego.

Brian spreads out the weave blanket on the grass after the movie is cut short. just enough room for two. Jennifer Hudson is still singing. Chris Matthews dabs his crying eye with a napkin. Bernie Sanders is still wandering the park.

Chris: it's emotional. they just want to not get killed at school. learning is a battlefield. that's a nice pink sweater you're wearing tonight, Brian.

Brian: i like you, man, but not in that way.

Chris: let's go to the kitchen.

Brian: what? like i meant...

Chris: no. my kitchen. my clitchen. my wife threw me out. kicked me right out on my rump. i have a big butt no one sees on tv thank god. i'm a good Catholic boy from Pennsylvania. my missile and stock are genuine. i remind you of your father's smile after aftershaving.

Brian: my wife, too. let's go make a meal together. we're gonna have to learn how.

Bump is on one of the many golf courses he owns. the outing green on the 18th. by the pool. a small cyclone has begun forming waving the hedges to and fro. the hedges too dark to see, as dark-green as the putting surface. the suity spout of the cyclone lips out of the golf hole. Bump bends down to address his ball and tell it he loves it and kiss its many tiny holes when he catches the shadows of two shadow agents.

Bump: Mulder and Scully i presume? shouldn't you two disgraces be behind bars?

Scully: i'm the real Red.

Mulder: just came to serve you your paper. i can electronically give it to you if this weather keeps up. wouldn't want you to lose it.

Bump: i've already lost it.

Mulder: please we wouldn't dream of interrupting your executive time. enjoy, executive. go for the porn price, the porn suite.

Mueller: storytime ain't just yet.

Mueller's voice creeps behind the bushes dividing the A and B course. he is on the other side of the green at the tee of the 1st. the cyclone has formed into a full tornado catching all the raindrops in its mouth.

Bump: Bob? Bob is that you? how's you get on these grounds? you're fired. access denied.

Mueller: i drove myself. in my own car.

Scully: we worry about you, sir. those automatic cars are deadly. have you seen the news? a driverless crushed a poor lady. in the cold barren Arizona night-deserts. we warned about this in our techlash episode you should have been watching.

Bump: it's all over, Bob. Strzok and Page are coming for you. they'll be here any minute. a little bird named Nikki told me so. if they know what's good for her i mean him.

Mueller: don't think so, boss. let's play a round of golf for it. for your presidency.

Bump: finally. i thought nobody would ever ask. what good is golf for anyway but that?

the waterspout has become a half-hurricane sprawling and scrawling overhead blowing both of the main men's hairs but unevenly so.

Bump drops his ball on the edge. of the putting green on his keys in his upper-pantleg. he makes quite the heroic shot from there, putting it in what seems like a hole-in-one after the drop. he goes to remove the flag.

Bump smiles wickedly.

the ball rolls. and rolls into the ho.....................what? the hole is filled. it's frozen solid with ice. the ball slips and slides by.

Mueller: you were proficient in one sport growing up. i was proficient in two. i liked ice hockey, too. i went outside during winter, too.