Classification: ZERO INTELLIGENCE DETECTED
What follows is a satirical transcript from an extremely fabricated phone call between Tulsi Gabbard and Attorney General Pam Bondi. It lives somewhere between what is being said, what could be said, and what probably has been screamed into a throw pillow behind closed doors.
PAM BONDI (cheerful):
“Hey Tulsi, just circling back on your notes. I got the memo packet. Hope the surf out there’s good.”
TULSI GABBARD (pleasant, almost warm):
“Aloha, Pam. Appreciate you hopping on. Waves were decent this morning. Good clarity. Spiritually and geopolitically.”
PAM (laughs lightly):
“Well, that’s a rare combo. I skimmed your doc. Some heavy asks. We’ll need to go piece by piece.”
TULSI:
“That’s all I’m asking. No pressure. Just justice. For the American people.”
PAM:
“Right. So… starting with Comey?”
TULSI (voice shifts):
“Yes. James Comey. Former FBI Director. Posted ‘86 47’ on Instagram. Coded assassination threat. He gets indicted.”
PAM (pause):
“I mean… he posted a photo of seashells. Is this… satire?”
TULSI (clipped):
“It’s not a beach day, Pam. It’s treason wrapped in coral.”
PAM (sighs):
“Oh God. Here we go.”
TULSI (pressing):
“He’s not the only one. Obama was in on it. He probably directed the entire operation. Just like the 2016 Russia hoax. Fabricated. Treasonous. You saw the memo I declassified. You were supposed to arrest everyone I told you to, Pam. That was the deal. That was your only job.”
PAM BONDI (completely unfazed):
“I’m the Attorney General, Tulsi. Not your personal handcuff fairy. You don’t get to tweet a name and summon a SWAT team like it’s DoorDash for vengeance.”
TULSI:
“I went on Joe Rogan and laid it all out. Brennan, Hillary, Soros—”
PAM (interrupting):
“You went on Joe Rogan because your ego needed a flotation device. The only thing you ‘laid out’ was your midlife crisis in podcast form.”
TULSI:
“You’re embarrassing me in front of my followers.”
PAM:
“You embarrass yourself. That white streak in your hair doesn’t make you wise — it makes you look like a character from X-Men that got tenure at PragerU.”
TULSI (ice-cold):
“And you look like a traffic cone that binge-watched Judge Jeanine and decided to major in subpoenas.”
PAM:
“You’re not a whistleblower, Tulsi. You’re a PowerPoint slide with daddy issues and a God complex. Surfing doesn’t make you deep. It makes you damp.”
TULSI:
“You prosecute like you’re judging a wet t-shirt contest in Daytona.”
PAM:
“And you govern like you’re livestreaming from an REI dressing room.”
TULSI:
“You promised Epstein revelations and delivered a binder full of nothing and a Word doc labeled ‘Fun Facts About Dershowitz.’”
PAM (screaming):
“I RECEIVED THREATS FROM THE HODGE TWINS!!”
TULSI (deadpan):
“Good. Maybe they’ll knock some federal obligation into you. Laura Ingraham texted me ‘WTF is Bondi’s problem?’”
PAM:
“You act like I’m your personal executioner. I don’t work for Tulsi’s Vibe Check Committee.”
TULSI:
“I will Aloha your ass straight into irrelevance.”
PAM:
“You can’t even arrest credibility, let alone a war criminal.”
TULSI:
“Do your job. Or I’ll tell Trump you’re obstructing declassification.”
PAM (laughs):
“He called me ‘Kellyanne in heels’ last week and then asked if I was dating Dershowitz. Do it.”
TULSI (gritting teeth):
“Karoline gets it. She knows arrests are necessary.”
PAM:
“Let’s ruin her lunch.”
Pam merges the call. The sound of distant vape pull. Static. The voice of a woman already spiritually at war.
KAROLINE (rasping):
“I swear by the blood of Christ if this is about Deep State mass arrests again, I will baptize myself in iced espresso and flee to Branson.”
PAM:
“Tulsi says you support her.”
TULSI:
“You stood with me.”
KAROLINE (already loaded):
“I also once stood behind a commemorative cake for Jared Kushner’s peace prize. Doesn’t mean I believed in it.”
TULSI:
“You said we needed action.”
KAROLINE:
“I said we needed to stop flinging indictments like divorce papers on Vanderpump Rules. What you’re doing is pretending to have a revolution with bullet points.”
PAM:
“Told you.”
TULSI:
“So you’re siding with her now?”
KAROLINE (ominous):
“Oh, don’t mistake this for siding. Pam, your press briefings are The View with subpoenas. Tulsi, your declassified emails read like a Word doc written by a ghostwriter on mushrooms. Both of you are giving ‘girlboss coup’ energy and I need holy water.”
PAM:
“Karoline—”
KAROLINE (escalating):
“No. I’m on day three of dry shampoo and spiritual warfare. Tulsi, you issue arrest demands like you’re ordering a Frappuccino. Pam, your redactions are erotica for conspiracy theorists.”
TULSI:
“We’re protecting the Republic.”
KAROLINE:
“No. You’re background noise between Trump’s golf tantrums and Don Jr. launching a cologne line called Elk Tears. You are both my personal hell. Pam, you’re a press liability in Lululemon. Tulsi, you’re an emotional landslide in tactical pants.”
[Long pause and the soft moaning of American democracy.]
KAROLINE (quietly, with the fury of ten press secretaries):
“You both shut the hell up for 48 hours. No subpoenas. No leaks. No metaphorical executions. Sit in your offices like good little plot goblins while I try to duct tape this administration together with expired mascara and prayer.”
TULSI (dark):
“This isn’t over.”
KAROLINE (exasperated):
“It never is.”
Click.
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This post has been syndicated from Closer to the Edge, where it was published under this address.