“Grrrrr, grrrrr, leaks, fake news, swift paw of justice grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, rarrrrrghhh, save me from myselffffahblahbalah,” says Anthony Scaramucci, Donald Trump’s new communications director, and poster boy for living with rabies, early on a busy Friday morning while trying to elude men with nets on long poles, who were allegedly summoned by Reince Preibus.
In a White House in which carriers of the virulent disease have now risen to previously unknown heights, the appointment of Scaramucci from drug-dog to head of comms represents the crossing of a notable threshold: Where previous positions were filled by men nicknamed ‘Mad Dog,’ we now witness the arrival of actual untrained canines in tailored suits.
“I just take it one day at a time. I tested positive for rabies when I was twelve, but really I think my family knew all along,” he says through a translator, who relates this information from behind her spittle-flecked face shield. “There was a lot of foaming at the mouth. A lot of aggression. A lot of running around in circles trying to gnaw my own ankle.” Scaramucci then defiantly snarls that it is these (effin’) skills that got him where he (effin’) is, and charges to the end of his (effin’) chain, staked to the middle of the Oval Office.
He then falls abruptly silent, as his angry attentions turn to an open window and the grassy lawn beyond. Aides are about to release Jared Kushner in an attack-dog training suit so the newest addition to Trump’s dirty bomb of an administration can work off some of his excess irateness before the next press conference, and hopefully chalk up another day without tearing a reporter’s head off.
“In my professional opinion he is both an inspiration, and enormous public health risk,” says Gertrude Fandango, head of the Humane Society for the greater DC area. “Is it amazing to see a man rise above a dangerous, though curable disease? Yes. Do I feel Mr. Scaramucci should be receiving treatment rather than promotions? Also yes.”