'Uh, Mr. President, we have a bit of a problem."
"What is it Spicey, and why are you wearing a dress?"
"Sir, Sean Spicer quit this miserable job months ago. I am your latest beleaguered press secretary, Sarah Huckabee Sanders."
"Well, what is it Huckleberry? I'm a very busy man feuding with everyone from the Brownies to the Dalai Lama. Can't that guy ever wear a suit?"
"I have some breaking news, your Twitterness."
"What is it now? Did Secretary of State Rex Tillerson call me a moron again? Did Sen. Bob Corker suggest the White House should be renamed Trump Acres Assisted Living Facility? Or has that crazy nut in North Korea gone completely Dr. Strangelove on everyone?"
"Actually, it's a more delicate matter than that, my liege. One of your ex-wives gave an interview on television."
"Which one, Clara?"
"That would be Ivana."
"Was that No. 1 or No. 2? I can't keep track of all the alimony payments."
"Ivana was the first to enjoy the pleasure of your blissful marital company from 1977 to 1992, my king."
"That was the one I had most of the children with?"
"I believe so, my insufferableness. It seems the original Mrs. Trump claimed in an interview that, ahem, 'I'm basically the first Trump wife. Okay? I am first lady.' "
"Has Melania heard about this? I am such toast."
"Alas, Mr. President, the latest Mrs. Trump is aware of the first Mrs. Trump's remarks, even though the staff did their best to distract her by turning all the television sets in the residence to the Slovenian version of Project Runway."
"Oh boy. How fast can we gas up Air Force One?"
"Where do you want to go, my deity?"
"Anywhere! Maybe I can go back to Puerto Rico, where it's so restful."
"Unfortunately, the earliest version of Mrs. Trump was only getting warmed up as she dished about how she could clean up this dysfunctional political toxic waste dump of a White House in less than 14 days."
"But that probably would involve getting rid of me."
"That might have been on her mind, since she implied she was smarter than you and a far more savvy businessperson. She also said the two of you talk on a regular basis."
"Melania wasn't supposed to know that. Wait a minute! Hucksterbee, I've just had a brilliant idea. Maybe we can blame Ivana for everything from the failure to repeal and replace Obamacare to the fact my administration has been less productive than Lucille Ball on a candy wrapper assembly line."
"I'll call Steve Bannon and ask him what he thinks. In the meantime, Mrs. Trump 3.0 issued a statement calling your ex-wife little more than an 'attention-seeking' hustling opportunist who is trying to sell a cheesy book by making a bunch of 'self-serving' noise."
"I know all about the noise stuff. You should have heard Ivana when she found out about Marla Maples, who eventually became Mrs. Trump, Part Deux. I will say though that with Melania I know it's the real thing. She obviously married me because of my incredible handsomeness, my sexiness, my towering intellect, my stunning good taste and my impeccable character. Don't you agree, Honeysuckle?"
"I think Corker and Tillerson were on to something. Look, Mr. Petulant, I don't think you quite appreciate that this sniping dust-up between your former and current wives is yet another distraction diverting attention away from the pressing responsibilities of your office. This isn't the White House. It's the Jerry Springer Show of the Potomac."
"Not all, Honeycomb. Most importantly all this is about me. Two women are in a nasty, insulting spat over an overweight 71-year-old man. That would be — me. Can you fathom two men getting into a snit over Angela Merkel? Aside from the fact I'll probably be sleeping on a futon in the Roosevelt Room for the foreseeable future, this is really a win-win for — me."
"Please, Mr. Trump! This can't be good for your image."
"Image, schmimage! This is bigly. Remember what that brawl between Joan Collins and Linda Evans did for the ratings on Dynasty? Here's what we're going to do. Stage a grudge match between Ivana and Melania. Marla can be the referee. We'll call it 'Wrestlemania In the West Wing!' It will be huuuuuge. The winner gets to go up against that French firecracker Brigitte Macron. We'll put it on pay-per-view. It will drive Vladimir Putin crazy with jealousy."
"Anything else sir, before I start drinking heavily?"
"Yeah, call Access Hollywood. They're due for another scoop."