Anthony Scaramucci got fired as he lived: rapidly and with no purpose.
The former White House communications director is already back in the dust after having crawled out of it for 10 glorious days in our lives, days marked by chaos and glory and favorable Joe Paterno quotes. In a White House that thrives that weekly purges, Scaramucci was one of the weakest and easiest to kill: but his story will live on.
We’ve got his memoir to prove it.
A leaker who somehow survived Scaramucci’s planned mass killings delivered me this envelope with the words “TOP SECRET!!!” written on it in very serious black ink. We cannot prove the document’s authenticity but find the three exclamation points and use of caps lock to be very convincing.
Here’s a little glimpse of how the Mooch apparently made his magic:
“The call to public service came straight from my groin”
I had it all: a highly successful job in investment banking, a family and a contributing role at Fox News.
But unlike SOME PEOPLE I’m not the kind of guy of who’s content just to sit at home and suck his own c*ck: I needed more. I’ve always been a big dreamer: someone who’ll never be satisfied with just a triple figure salary and a twelve pack of abs. Back in my Harvard Law School days – do you know I went to Harvard Law School? With Barack Obama? — they used to call me “The Walking Vision Board.” I love goals: setting and achieving them.
I love the President of the United States.
So when President Trump asked – well, literally begged me to come on board, with Reince Pubis wailing in the background — I chose to leave everything I loved behind and strike a new path.
It was up to me to save America and kill those leakers, one by one.
“What it feels like to do push-ups on top of the world”
I believe it was the great Mark Twain who once said, “The secret to being a highly effective person is working hard and playing hard.”
For the 10 straight days I worked in the White House, I tried to do both. Every morning I woke up, drank a dozen raw eggs and slapped on some Axe aftershave before heading over the White House to brief the president on the communications strategy for the day. Some of his favorite themes included: “Think big,” “Use your hands” or my personal favorite, “Never forget to smile.”
It wasn’t always easy coaching the President – after all, he was the Media Master and I was merely his humble student, trying to coach him from behind. Plus, it didn’t help that that sniveling little Boy Scout Preibo was always hiding under Trump’s desk trying to cockblock the man’s way to greatness.
So I relaxed when I could, whether by doing quadruple espresso shots or cracking my knuckles incredibly loudly during meetings to express dominance.
The Mooch was here and in command.
“Reporters are miserable people who haven’t had a real job in their miserable horrible lives.”
You’re going to want to quote that.
“I kill Abel”
I died, so that Reince could die, so that others may live – specifically President of the World Donald J. Trump.
The President simply couldn’t achieve his agenda while those treasonous paranoiac miserable bastards were leaking confidential national security secrets out of their assholes. So I did what I had to. I called The New Yorker and accused a White House top advisor of sucking his own cock so I could get fired, so that Priebus would also be fired and that the president could be saved.
When the history books are written, people who are not my wife will recognize me for the communications genius I am.
“Dream as if you’ll live forever, live as if you’ll die today,” a great man who may or may not be me once said.
Some will say I died immediately – but oh, they will never know how I lived.
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