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At this Magnus became highly flapped. “Donald Trump? That guy? The guy who just got elected president? He’s a necromancer. And an apprentice? He’s the lesser evil?”
“Well more of a journeyman by now” the dead folksinger said. “Since he’s graduated and moving on to a different city now.”
“Moving on to a new city? He’s becoming president? Of the whole country.”
“Yeah, the mystical community don’t give a lot of stock to the conventional government titles. They see it more as he’s leaving New York to run Washington D.C.”
“Who’s running Washington D.C.?”
“Well it was a rakshasa, an Indian tiger spirit.”
“I know what a fucking rakshasa is Phil, you don’t have to be a condescending prick.”
“Well not everybody does. Anyway, he’s dead now so it’s kind of a moot point.”
“Trump killed him in a sorcerous duel?”
“You’d think so right? Had an FBI hit team do it.”
“Man, the FBI really was working for him during the election. Fuck those guys.”
“You can say that again man. You know they had a file on me while I was singing.”
“Yeah, and I know you’re proud of it. So don’t bother trying to sound offended.”
