I am at Denny's with my Nazi Girlfriend who Is Not My Girlfriend and she, as usual, is massaging my balls with her feet under the table while we wait for pancakes.
"I don't get why people keep comparing Trump to Hitler," she says, adding more sugar to her coffee.
"It's a bit of a stretch," I reply distractedly.
"I mean -- I get it -- they both accomplished Big Things. But I don't think Trump is going to kill any Jews. Or even Mexicans, for that matter, even if they ARE illegal."
"One would hope."
"You know -- if Hitler had kept the amount of dead Jews to under a million he'd be remembered a lot differently."
"Under a million?"
"Yeah. Like eight-hundred-thousand, say. Think of it like dollars. Six million dollars is a lot of money to most people."
"Yes: yes it is."
"But eight-hundred-thousand dollars, well: it's a big amount, but not THAT big. It doesn't even make you a Millionaire."
"Don't get me wrong: it would still be a Bad Thing to do. But it would be LESS of a Bad Thing."
This would be a good time for the pancakes to arrive, but they are not on the horizon, so I flick the maple syrup flip-top a few times.
"When I was younger I wondered what it would be like to fuck Hitler."
"Oh yeah. I'd fuck him, then I'd gently stroke his hair and tell him to leave the Jews alone for now, just focus on the Gypsies."
"The World would've been a lot different, then."
"I know. Nobody likes Gypsies."
"And the Belgians: they HATE Gypsies."
"The Belgians are a curious bunch."
"Yeah. Maybe Hitler could've killed eight-hundred-thousand of them, instead."
"Because killing a million Belgian people would be horrible."
"Maybe not horrible, but someone would get in a snit over it. Probably."
Finally, the pancakes arrive. I only want to think of pancakes. But now I'm thinking I might rather have a Belgian Waffle, instead.
I am Laslo.