by David McElroy
Dear Donald Trump:
I was really interested Wednesday afternoon when you made your business proposal to Barack Obama — the one in which you offered to buy copies of his college transcripts and passport application for $5 million. I had heard you had a big announcement coming, but I didn’t know it was going to be this big. Or this exciting. Honestly, the possibilities astound me.
Since I know you’re such a great and successful businessman — we won’t even mention those unfortunate bankruptcies — I know you always have your eye out for a better deal. And, boy, do I have a deal for you. Since you’re in the market for college transcripts, I just happen to have a very nice set of lightly used transcripts from the University of Alabama that I’d be willing to let you have for less than the $5 million you’re offering to Mr. Obama.
I know you drive a hard bargain, so I’m going to cut right to the chase. I know that owning a set of my transcripts wouldn’t be quite as prestigious as having a set from a sitting U.S. president, so I’m willing to cut quite a deal. What are you thinking? $4 million? Maybe $3 million? Good gracious, no, sir. I’m willing to take a measly $2 million for my transcripts.
You’re welcome to publish them or read them at parties or line bird cages with them. For just $2 million, you can do as you like with them.
Now, you might be wondering why I’m willing to let my transcripts go at a 60 percent discount to what you’ve already offered. Let’s be honest. I just want your money, and I’d like to strike a deal quickly before someone clues you in about how stupid you look about this.
I’ll admit that there will be a few embarrassing things to explain. I’d rather not talk about that English class from my sophomore year, the one that I meant to drop and kind of forgot about until past the drop date. I didn’t bother to go the entire semester, but I showed up and took the final just on a whim. Who knew they’d give me a D and three hours credit just for that? Nuts, right? But it’s not one of my prouder moments.
I’d also rather not talk about how the listed major changed pretty much every semester. Journalism, history, political science, television and film, and more. I might have even listed physics one semester. Pretty goofy, huh? At least it’s entertaining reading.
Despite these minor blemishes on the transcript — well, some of them are more than minor, but we don’t have to talk about that, do we? — I think you’d be proud to own these transcripts. Yes, sir. And imagine being able to brag to everybody at the Club about what a great deal you got.
Oh, one other thing. When we do the deal, please bring cash. I want the money before you sober up. Or the drugs wear off. Or whatever.
I hope we can do business. Have your people call my people.