“I know this is completely unexpected,” said former White House Press Secretary Sean Spicer. “I mean, who would have thought I wouldn’t last the four-year term? No one, that’s who.” Mr Spicer seemed finally at ease at home in his mother’s attic, surrounded by blown-up photographs depicting various modest crowd sizes for President Trump’s events.
He was very honest about the motives for his resignation, even becoming emotional at times. Quietly wringing the neck of a rubber chicken he spoke about the isolation he’s been dealing with: “it’s been some time now that I’ve been feeling estranged from my props. Like I never thought I’d miss them so much? It’s been months since I last held my cool Thor hammer replica and there’s a part of me that breaks every time I realize that.” The dry tap of intermittent tears falling on his oversized plastic clown shoes echoed through the attic.
Talking about the future of his career, Mr Spicer sounded optimistic and flexible. He discarded becoming a stand-up (“prop comedy is for losers and whores,” he noted) and has little interest in becoming a volunteer student film Art Director (“been there, done that”).
If you need a clue as to his next move, the Rhode Island native showed a great interest in the career path travelled by the people that end up being custodians for lost and found bins. “Just think about it! All that stuff!” he gushed, finally a twinkle in his eye. “I once saw a bin with 3 types of umbrellas, 2 raincoats and a stuffed bunny missing one eye. I’m telling you, it was crazy.”
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