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Aaaand The Mooch is out. I think we jinxed him.
So far into his presidency, Trump has fired more people it seems than in all those seasons of The Apprentice combined. Not that anyone ever actually watched The Apprentice; we only watched The Celebrity Apprentice, you know, just so we could see Khloe Kardashian and Gary Busey fail at free-market economics.
Not that I understand political strategy, because I don’t (and after the last election it seems neither does Hillary Clinton), but one move The Donald has made has got me pumped: Mr. Make America Great Again fired his press secretary and communications director, Sean Spicer. Technically Spicer “resigned,” but we all know that wasn’t his choice; Spicer “agreed” to quit the same way you agree with your risk management chair when he shoots down your idea of a self-produced, post-daydrink fireworks extravaganza: with a feigned, powerless acceptance. Nothing against Spicer, but if the main accomplishment of your short term is being impersonated by Melissa McCarthy, you might’ve been doing something wrong. Sure, Donny has his share of impersonators, but nothing Alec Baldwin does can overshadow what the Trumpster does in real life.
In an act of supreme awareness, Trump replaced Comm. Director Spicey, with his infinity forehead and beady eyes, with Anthony Scaramucci, a former businessman who’s equal parts savior to and caricature of Italian-Americans (he also brought in Sarah Huckabee Sanders to fill Spicer’s press secretary role).
Scaramucci is like a mix of Joe Pesci and De Niro with a dash of Pacino on the side. Every time the dude walks to the podium he acts like he’s ready to announce that he’s joining Frankie Valli as the fifth member of the Four Seasons. Scaramucci is definitely the type of guy who hardcore judges people who consider Olive Garden real Italian food (plot twist: its not, but the breadsticks are great). I imagine Ellis Island circa 1920 was filled with people like Scaramucci running around. Dude even has his own nickname, “The Mooch,” that sounds halfway between a Boardwalk Empire villain and a WWE ring name. One actor, Mario Cantone, just started impersonating the guy on Comedy Central. As if Anthony Scaramucci didn’t sound Italian enough, you go with a guy named Mario Cantone? That sounds like something I’d order at my neighborhood Italian bakery.
“Oh ciao, Donatella! Can I have a loaf of Italian bread, four cannolis, and about a half pound of that Mario Cantone?”
Speaking of impersonations, Cantone did a good job. A scary good job, actually. But because every wannabe comedian who does a halfway decent Donald Trump impersonation in a $15 wig thinks it will get them both a Netflix special and laid, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw a huge influx of C- Scaramucci impersonation opportunists soon. This begs the question: who is worthy to play the White House communications director?
Quite personally, I think I should be the one to play Scaramucci on late night television. I’m a bargain; you don’t need to see my tax returns to know I’m not exactly earning the big bucks these late night jamokes make. If not me, how about Joe Piscopo, the 1980s SNL comedian who, despite his generational talent, was always unfairly second fiddle to Eddie Murphy? Since then, Piscopo has turned into a FOX News contributor, a Trump fan boy, and, at one time, a rumored candidate for Governor of New Jersey (full disclosure: I would have voted for him).
The holy grail of Scaramucci impersonators, however, is Sebastian Maniscalco. If you don’t know who he is, his name probably sounds like some exotic seafood dish cooked with the crab from The Little Mermaid. But if you do know who he is, you know he’s hysterical and perfect for the part. They even look like twins separated at birth who took two very different paths with their lives.
In the end, the real thing is probably going to be better than any impersonation. This is a textbook example of “life imitates art,” and boy this life is hysterical (just check out The Mooch’s New Yorker interview to see why). I can sit and watch Scaramucci for days, even if his own hand motions make me feel exhausted just watching them. Let’s all just be thankful press conferences aren’t as boring as if Hillary had won and made Al Gore her communications director/press secretary..
Image via Shutterstock