Thus, this is the last one you can trust. Next time, trust no one.
Not even, sniffle, Nixon.
"Is it me, or does this coffee taste weird? Haldeman, answer me!"
"But, Mr. President, Rose Mar --"
"Don't you fucking blame her, you sonofabitch. Get me the plumber."
"Now, you little shit!"
"Head shots, head shots, kill the son of a bitch?"
"No, Gordo, nothing that extreme. I want you to check on where this coffee originated. I just know that asshole McGovern is behind it. Fucking hippie."
"Here's a fresh cup from McDonald's, Mr. President."
"Thank you, Rose Mary, what would my jowls do without you. Want me to shake 'em?"
"Ah, no, that's alright, Mr. President, you just enjoy your coffee."
"Gordo, when did you become purple?"
"You don't understand English, Charlie? Commies and gooks, that's all you are!"
"You're purple, and Rose Mary is orange, and that prick Haldeman is green, throwing up in the bathroom like a Democrat. Not as if I asked you to garrote the sonofabitch."
"Would you like me to, sir?"
"No, no. But tell me why you are so -- holy shit, why am I red as a beet?"
"Perhaps you should lie down f --"
"Go fuck yourself, I'm fucking red, Gordo! And plastic, I'm fucking plastic!"
"You're gonna rock 'em sock 'em to me?"
*many years later in New Jersey*
"I know what I saw and years of anti-psychotics and group therapies couldn't convince me otherwise: that you won't have Robot Nixon to kick around any more."