The Phone Call, this time Carl Rove calls the Vice President 32
The voice on the line was staid and overly confident. “The Vice President cannot receive your call right now. Can I take a message?”
The answer boomed through the speaker. “Hell no you can’t take a damned message! This is Carl Rove. Put me through. NOW!”
Again, the practiced nonchalance of the aide’s voice droned ahead. “The Vice President doesn’t wish to speak with you right now, sir.”
The growing agitation of the caller gradually rose to a whining aggression. “He’d better by God wanta’ talk to me! Who in the hell does he think he is?”
The aide offered a well rehearsed, yet veiled, alternative. “Sir, if you continue in that tone, I will be forced to refer your call the Secret Service. The Vice President does not wish to speak with you at this time. I will inform him that you called. Now, good day.”
Now the caller exploded in a sickening insistence. “The hell you will! Get that son-of-a-bitch on the telephone. Tell the pushy little bastard that he’ll regret handling me this way.”
Suddenly, background conversation could be heard as the phone was clearly passed to the Vice President. “Listen up, you fat little prick. You don’t work here any more. I don’t have to take your goddamned phone calls if I don’t want to. And, you don’t ever threaten me, Rove! Those days are over!”
The caller’s voice settled into a frightening, yet outwardly calm intensity. “Cheney, you better hear what I have to say. I’m calling because George asked me to.”
“So what?” the Vice President yelled. “Like I care what you’re doing. What does he want this time, the little chicken shit is too creepy to pick up his own phone?”
“He called me from Air Force One in route back from Paris. A bunch of his Senators called him, complaining about what you said.” the caller droned on.
“Hey, hear me say this. I’ll say any goddamned thing I want to, any time I like. What the hell business is it of yours?” the Vice President snapped.
“You told another whopper with that crap about the Chinese and the Cubans drilling for oil off the Florida coast. I thought we agreed that you’d stop lyin’ after we got the war started.” Rove rolled on. “Now that Texan is crawlin’ out of his frickin’ head with the impeachment crap, and you have to jump in with this stuff!”
“Just back the hell off, Rove. That crowd loved it. Not like you ever fired up an audience.” the Vice President answered, maneuvering for the upper hand.
“It was a lie and you knew it! The whole goddamned country is already up in arms, and now you throw gasoline on the fire. You’re gonna’ lose this election for us, you stupid son-of-a-bitch.” Rove continued. “I’m trying to put this mess back together for the President, and you’re out spewing more crap. If Obama is the next President, you know what, well, you know what that means.”
“Don’t threaten me, you little out of work twerp! I’m the one who survived this disaster, and you’re the one who his got his ass fired. Don’t forget that!” the Vice President answered.
“Okay, Cheney. You can just find a civil tongue. I don’t need any abuse from the likes of you! Smoking gun like a mushroom cloud. What an idiot!” Rove answered in a calculating tone.
“Okay, big shot. Where are you right now?” the Vice President answered ominously.
“I’m in my bunker at an undisclosed location, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still make things happen if I need to.” Rove replied.
“Yeah, like what?” the Vice President taunted.
“Like having Scooter get into a talkative mood, that’s what. And, bet your ass, there’s lots more.” Rove countered. “Don’t push me, you sterile nobody.”
The ex-aide continued. “You don’t say smack no more! Get it? I’ve got my hands full managing what monkey’s we got left in the House. In case you didn’t notice, they’re retiring like flies. The ones that are left are terrified. No one can be trusted.”
“By the way, I’m not fired.” Rove added calmly.
“Oh yeah? Says who, you loser?” the Vice President shot back.
“Says Bush 41, that’s who. He’s reorganized me and the rest of the Iran Contra team to try to save 43’s legacy. We got marchin’ orders, Cheney. What have you got?” Rove asked indolently.
After a pause, “Okay, I’ll pull back. What do you want? A retraction?” the Vice President asked.
“No. That’s only gonna’ make it worse. I’m just telling you to shut up for the next seven months. No more bomb Iran. No more Muslim rumors. I got rid of Clinton and I can damned sure get rid of you. Got it?” Rove hung up.
The voice on the line was staid and overly confident. “The Vice President cannot receive your call right now. Can I take a message?”
The answer boomed through the speaker. “Hell no you can’t take a damned message! This is Carl Rove. Put me through. NOW!”
Again, the practiced nonchalance of the aide’s voice droned ahead. “The Vice President doesn’t wish to speak with you right now, sir.”
The growing agitation of the caller gradually rose to a whining aggression. “He’d better by God wanta’ talk to me! Who in the hell does he think he is?”
The aide offered a well rehearsed, yet veiled, alternative. “Sir, if you continue in that tone, I will be forced to refer your call the Secret Service. The Vice President does not wish to speak with you at this time. I will inform him that you called. Now, good day.”
Now the caller exploded in a sickening insistence. “The hell you will! Get that son-of-a-bitch on the telephone. Tell the pushy little bastard that he’ll regret handling me this way.”
Suddenly, background conversation could be heard as the phone was clearly passed to the Vice President. “Listen up, you fat little prick. You don’t work here any more. I don’t have to take your goddamned phone calls if I don’t want to. And, you don’t ever threaten me, Rove! Those days are over!”
The caller’s voice settled into a frightening, yet outwardly calm intensity. “Cheney, you better hear what I have to say. I’m calling because George asked me to.”
“So what?” the Vice President yelled. “Like I care what you’re doing. What does he want this time, the little chicken shit is too creepy to pick up his own phone?”
“He called me from Air Force One in route back from Paris. A bunch of his Senators called him, complaining about what you said.” the caller droned on.
“Hey, hear me say this. I’ll say any goddamned thing I want to, any time I like. What the hell business is it of yours?” the Vice President snapped.
“You told another whopper with that crap about the Chinese and the Cubans drilling for oil off the Florida coast. I thought we agreed that you’d stop lyin’ after we got the war started.” Rove rolled on. “Now that Texan is crawlin’ out of his frickin’ head with the impeachment crap, and you have to jump in with this stuff!”
“Just back the hell off, Rove. That crowd loved it. Not like you ever fired up an audience.” the Vice President answered, maneuvering for the upper hand.
“It was a lie and you knew it! The whole goddamned country is already up in arms, and now you throw gasoline on the fire. You’re gonna’ lose this election for us, you stupid son-of-a-bitch.” Rove continued. “I’m trying to put this mess back together for the President, and you’re out spewing more crap. If Obama is the next President, you know what, well, you know what that means.”
“Don’t threaten me, you little out of work twerp! I’m the one who survived this disaster, and you’re the one who his got his ass fired. Don’t forget that!” the Vice President answered.
“Okay, Cheney. You can just find a civil tongue. I don’t need any abuse from the likes of you! Smoking gun like a mushroom cloud. What an idiot!” Rove answered in a calculating tone.
“Okay, big shot. Where are you right now?” the Vice President answered ominously.
“I’m in my bunker at an undisclosed location, but that doesn’t mean I can’t still make things happen if I need to.” Rove replied.
“Yeah, like what?” the Vice President taunted.
“Like having Scooter get into a talkative mood, that’s what. And, bet your ass, there’s lots more.” Rove countered. “Don’t push me, you sterile nobody.”
The ex-aide continued. “You don’t say smack no more! Get it? I’ve got my hands full managing what monkey’s we got left in the House. In case you didn’t notice, they’re retiring like flies. The ones that are left are terrified. No one can be trusted.”
“By the way, I’m not fired.” Rove added calmly.
“Oh yeah? Says who, you loser?” the Vice President shot back.
“Says Bush 41, that’s who. He’s reorganized me and the rest of the Iran Contra team to try to save 43’s legacy. We got marchin’ orders, Cheney. What have you got?” Rove asked indolently.
After a pause, “Okay, I’ll pull back. What do you want? A retraction?” the Vice President asked.
“No. That’s only gonna’ make it worse. I’m just telling you to shut up for the next seven months. No more bomb Iran. No more Muslim rumors. I got rid of Clinton and I can damned sure get rid of you. Got it?” Rove hung up.
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