The next visitor (I have no excuses)
--Drumpf sitting in style, petting his cat, Blofeld. His feet are up, perched on the back of an uncouth slob wearing a black felt cap, on all fours--
--Enter Vlad The Emailer, accompanied by squat Slav, Ygor--
Vlad: здороваться толстуха! We have come to collect.
--Blofeld flees under Louis XIV chaise longue; slob twitches--
Drumpf: Hey, Vlad, my old best buddy, great to see ya—
Vlad: Don't get up. (Glances at uncouth slob) What is smell? Cat make gas?
Drumpf: Uh, Bannon— no, sorry, he likes to be called Cromwell now ... anyway, I was just leaving—
--Ygor hands Vlad a tablet, then blocks doorway, arms crossed--
Vlad: You made promise. Yooge promise. Is here. (Shows transcript on tablet)
Drumpf: I didn't say that, you got that from lyin' lamestream meeja—
Vlad (Plays recording on tablet)
Drumpf: That was someone else's voice, it's a conspiracy—
Vlad (Shows video on tablet)
Drumpf: That wasn't me, mummy- er, Vlad, it was that mean nasty Baldwin guy pretending—
Vlad (right hand in pocket): Not soft Yanki. We have deal. Ygor.
Drumpf (sobbing): Chapter 11?
--Ygor hands over pen, checkbook, blade--
Drumpf: Ow! (cries some more)
--Ygor dips pen in Drumpf ooze--
Vlad: Sign cheque. (smiles) What little hands you have, babushka.
Drumpf (recovering as he hands check over): Makes some other bits look yooge by comparison, heh.
Vlad: Nyet. We have photos of tiny Drumpf accessory (pockets check, winks) CNN, tonight at nine.
Drumpf: Oh jeeze ... hey, don't go yet, grab some pussy. Cromwell, go catch Blofeld.