I just read that President Biden will be hosting President-elect Donald J. Trump at the White House on Wednesday, and, clearly having way too much time on my hands, I decided to imagine how that conversation might play out.
Scene: Biden and Trump, two old frenemies, meet in the Oval Office like a real-life sequel to Grumpy Old Men. Biden’s wearing his signature aviators indoors (because why not), and Trump is adjusting his hair as if it’s under attack from an invisible gust of wind. Let’s listen in…
Biden: (gesturing) Well, well, Donnie. Look at us, here in the Oval again. Gotta admit, after last time, I didn’t expect you to be back. We didn’t even get a handshake back then — nothin’ but radio silence.
Trump: (smirking) I was busy, Joe. Tremendous things were happening, big things. People were saying it was one of the best transitions not to happen. Besides, here I am now — the people wanted me back. It’s historic.
Biden: (chuckling) Sure, “the people.” (leaning in) The only people sayin’ that were you and maybe Rudy — if he’d been hitting the Scotch. But, hey, we’re here, right? And you’re, what do they call it… a “returning guest star.”
Trump: (grins) Guest star, huh? Joe, I was the star. I brought energy, excitement. And style, lots of style — remember those gold curtains? People loved them.
Biden: (scratches head) Oh yeah, how could I forget? Walked in here and felt like I’d stepped into a 1970s Vegas lounge. (smiling) But y’know, Jill put her foot down. She wanted the place to look a little less… Bond villain. Says it’s bad for my blood pressure.
Trump: (leaning forward, mock-offended) Bond villain? Joe, please. That was luxury. The best luxury. I had decorators flying in from all over. They said, “Sir, this is the most tasteful Oval Office we’ve ever seen.”
Biden: (grinning) Sure, they did, Donnie. Must’ve been hard for ’em to say that through their sunglasses. You had this place lit up like the Fourth of July. Took half the year just to get that gold glow off the desk.
Trump produces a small mirror and checks his hair, making sure every strand is perfectly in place. Biden watches, amused.
Biden: (smirking) Y’know, Don, that hair of yours could survive a tornado. What’re you usin’, industrial-strength epoxy?
Trump: (grinning proudly) Presidential-grade hair, Joe. Strong, reliable, just like the people who support me. Unlike some folks, I keep what I start with.
Biden: (snorting) Hair, schmear. I’ve got more important stuff to keep in line — like the budget. (grins) We’re still payin’ down the electric bill from that last “Trump Glow” decor.
Trump: (waving dismissively) Fake news. That “Trump Glow” was popular. People loved it — really made the room pop. Now it’s all… sleepy. You put in a nap button or something?
Biden: (grinning) Now that you mention it — sure did. Slap it every day around three. Keeps my “energy” up. Beats the Diet Coke button you had.
Trump straightens, feigning offense.
Trump: The Diet Coke button was a classic, Joe. Innovative. Direct delivery. Made the best Diet Cokes, too — iced to perfection. The stuff of legends. Just efficient, that’s all.
Biden: (smiling) Right. Efficient. Just what every president needs — a whole button just for soda. And meanwhile, I’m here runnin’ an administration on sugar-free snacks and catchin’ power naps.
They share a reluctant laugh, with Trump eyeing the room, clearly mentally redecorating.
Trump: (thinking out loud) You know, maybe I’ll add a few little things when I’m back. Touch up the desk — bit of gold trim, maybe a Trump crest right there in the center.
Biden: (leaning back, deadpan) Sure, over my dead body. (grins) Look, Donnie, I respect the glitz and all, but this is the White House — not Caesar’s Palace. Leave the bedazzling at Mar-a-Lago, alright?
Trump: (sniffs) Fine, fine, but you’ve gotta admit, Joe, a little glamour doesn’t hurt. Keeps things exciting. Like Space Force! Big, bold idea.
Biden: (chuckling) Space Force. Right. So, what’s the plan now, Donnie, you gonna add a Trump Tower on the moon?
Trump: (nodding, thoughtful) Not a bad idea. Imagine it — a Trump Tower in orbit. Best views in the universe. It’d be big, Joe. You wouldn’t get it.
Biden: (grinning) Oh, I get it alright. I’ll leave the “orbiting hotel chain” thing to you, though. I’m just tryin’ to keep both feet on solid ground — got enough to handle right here. And the country’s tired enough without all the fireworks.
They exchange a smirk, each man aware of the other’s stubbornness. The conversation pauses, each thinking about the unusual journey that led them both here.
Trump: (sighing, with mock seriousness) Well, Joe, it’s not easy running things — big job. But I’ve got the experience, I know what it takes.
Biden: (nodding slowly) Yeah, yeah. Takes energy, patience, maybe a few snacks. But Donnie, for the sake of all things decent, leave the place lookin’ like an actual office — not a gold-plated gift shop. Keep it civil.
Trump: (smiling) We’ll see, Joe. But maybe I’ll bring a little Trump flair, just a touch. People miss it. Tremendous style, they’ve said.
Biden: (grinning, shaking his head) “They’ve said,” huh? Sure thing. Just don’t mix up your Diet Coke button with the “other” button. The last thing we need is a fountain of soda shootin’ out of the Resolute Desk.
They both stand, shaking hands with a bit too much enthusiasm, each trying to outlast the other. Trump gives Biden a lingering look as he makes one final adjustment to his hair, while Biden pops a Werther’s into his mouth.
Biden: (with a wink) For the road, Don. Just don’t go rearrangin’ my nap button without permission.