Donald J Trump Is Beating Me Again q burn in Hell You British Delaware Sleeping Bag
"Piers, nosotros have a problem."
I was continuing inside the gilded confines of President Donald Trump's sectional Mar-a-Lago private members' resort in Palm Beach, Florida, and 1 of my production team was brandishing a document with a concerned look on his face.
"What'south that?" I asked, bemused.
"This is a collection of quotes yous've apparently said about President Trump in the by two years. Someone sent information technology to him in the last hour, and the quotes are not good. In fact, they're really bad."
I was due to start an interview with Trump in precisely eight minutes, and it was intended to be a blockbuster sectional to rocket-launch my new global TV show, "Piers Morgan Uncensored," on Monday, April 25.
My four-camera crew were all set up in a palatial bar, I was suited, booted, fabricated up and had been exchanging cordial small talk with Hush-hush Service agents designated to ensure we behaved ourselves.
But as I hurriedly scanned the three-page white paper document, my heart sank.
There were several dozen comments from me, taken from columns I'd written and interviews I'd given, in which I was savagely critical of Trump's conduct in the terminal year of his presidency, from his woeful handling of the coronavirus pandemic to his refusal to accept defeat in the 2020 election, and the bloodcurdling Jan six riot at the Capitol that followed.
Whoever sent it knew exactly what they were doing.
These were by far the worst things I'd always said nearly a human being with whom I'd been friends for 15 years, but I felt they were justified when I said them, and I still practice at present.
In the all of a sudden very chilly lite of a sun-kissed Florida afternoon, nevertheless, they fabricated distinctly unhelpful reading.
"Is he going to cancel the interview?" I asked, trying not to panic.
"I don't know," came the reply. "Only he is VERY upset."
"Run across if I can go and talk to him about information technology," I suggested.
20 minutes after, I was sitting in Trump's office.
Normally, he'd greet me with a cheery smile and the words, "How'southward my gnaw?," because I was his first "Celebrity Apprentice" on the serial that made him a Telly superstar.
Only this fourth dimension, there were no such welcoming niceties.
He was staring at me across his desk with undisguised fury, clutching the document titled "Piers Morgan Comments About President Trump."
"What the f–k IS this?" he snarled.
And so he began slowly reading out some of the quotes.
"Trump's a supreme narcissist …"
Pause.
"His pathetic antics in the past few weeks since losing the ballot in Nov have been utterly contemptible."
Pause.
"Trump's at present too unsafe, he's morphed into a monster that I no longer recognize as someone I considered to be a friend and thought I knew."
Pause.
"He's now acting similar a Mafia mob boss."
Pause.
"And all considering Donald's stupendous ego couldn't accept losing and sent him nuts."
Each fourth dimension he paused, he peered over the certificate at me, with mounting rage in his eyes.
When I won Trump's "Celebrity Amateur" testify in 2008, his final words to me equally he appear the result were: "Piers, you're a cruel guy. I've seen information technology. Yous're tough. Yous're smart. Yous're probably brilliant. I'm not sure. Yous're certainly not diplomatic. But you did an amazing task. And you lot beat the hell out of everybody … you're the Celebrity Apprentice."
When he won the 2016 ballot, I returned the favor by sending him a card saying: "Well, Donald, you're a vicious guy. I've seen it. You're tough. You're smart. Yous're probably brilliant. I'thou not sure. You're certainly not diplomatic. But you did an amazing task. And you beat out the hell out of everybody … you're the President of the The states."
Then we had a reasonable understanding of each other's personalities, proficient and bad.
And information technology wasn't like we'd never had a spat.
He unfollowed me on Twitter (he only followed around l accounts at the fourth dimension, so this didn't go unnoticed!) in April 2020 later on he'd proposed using household disinfectant to fight COVID, and I'd hammered him in a cavalcade for spreading "bats–t crazy coronavirus cure theories."
Only a few months later, he called me for a lengthy chat before the election and chuckled about how "mean and nasty" I'd been almost him, so I mistakenly assumed he didn't actually listen me verbally whacking him from time to fourth dimension.
Wrong!
I'd never seen him and then livid or felt so uncomfortable in his presence as I did right now in his part.
He was almost foaming at the mouth and kept shaking his caput slowly and menacingly at me, similar Don Corleone when he felt he'd been disrespected.
There was no point in trying to deny the quotes.
I'd said them, and I'd meant them.
"I've e'er been disquisitional of y'all when I've felt you deserved it," I eventually said, "merely as you know, I've also written and said many supportive things about y'all besides. This is a ane-sided hatchet job designed to stop you doing our interview."
"It's definitely a hatchet job," he retorted, "ON ME!"
Then he read another line: "January 7, 2021 – President Trump needs to exist removed from office. Every bit soon as possible … through new emergency manufactures of impeachment, which would have the boosted benefit of barring him from always running for the presidency once more."
"REMOVED FROM Role?!" he spat. "BARRED FROM Always RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT Once again?!"
And so he threw down the document and threw me a look of withering antipathy.
"I thought we were friends?" he shouted. "This is so disloyal! Afterward all I've done for you? Why would you lot say all this about me?"
"I thought what you lot did was wrong," I replied, feeling myself get-go to sweat.
This wasn't going well.
It looked for sure like Trump was most to can the interview, which would have been a massive waste of time and money for me and our team and go out me an even more massive hole for the first bear witness.
I was desperately thinking of some way to relieve things.
"I don't intend our interview to be confrontational," I said. "A lot of time has passed since I said those things, and a lot has happened in the meantime."
"Why should I do information technology at all?" he scoffed. "Yous're not real. You're a faux."
"No, I'm but brutally honest."
"DIS-honest!"
"Yous didn't make me your Glory Apprentice because I'm a shrinking violet who sits on the argue or doesn't say what he really thinks."
Nosotros stared at each other for a few seconds, his optics tiresome into mine with all the warmth of an Arctic glacier.
Information technology was time to alter the mood music.
"I'd love to talk about your recent golf hole-in-one," I stammered. "Your playing partner Ernie Els was raving nigh it."
Trump sat commodities upright.
"He was? Where?"
"In a newspaper interview I read. He said it was a vivid shot and you played really well."
"I did, I did."
"Was that your kickoff hole-in-one?"
"No! I've had vii!"
Seven?
This claim seemed highly implausible. (I'grand a keen golfer and only had one. Most amateurs haven't even had that.) Simply this wasn't a good moment to fact-bank check him nearly his sporting prowess.
"Amazing," I replied. "Congrats!"
Suddenly, Trump clapped his hands.
"OK, I guess I'll still do the interview. I don't know why, honestly, but I'll see you lot downwardly in that location."
My extremely fractious audition was over, and I felt a huge wave of relief as I headed back to my squad.
"How was he?" asked my executive producer, Winnie Dunbar-Nelson, who'd flown from London to oversee the interview.
"He'southward very bellyaching," I said, "more annoyed than I've ever seen him. Spitting claret, in fact. Simply he's going to do information technology."
X minutes later, President Trump arrived in the interview room, and acted similar nothing had happened every bit we posed for smiling photos together. He was fifty-fifty charm personified to Winnie, whom he remembered from three previous presidential interviews we'd taped for my onetime show, "Adept Morning Britain," in Davos, onboard Air Force One and inside the Churchill State of war Rooms.
But I could sense he was still very wound up, and in that location was none of the usual bonhomie between us that I was used to in our many previous encounters.
I'd been promised 20 minutes and feared he would cut that down to punish me.
But in the cease, I got 75 minutes, past far the longest time I'd ever had with him on photographic camera, and information technology was a fascinating, often riveting, sometimes hilarious series of exchanges with arguably the globe's most famous person equally we talked nigh everything from Ukraine, Vladimir Putin, Kim Jong United nations and nuclear weapons, to the royals, transgender athletes, Twitter and Joe Biden.
For the first hour or and then, it was a perfectly normal interview, and we even shared a few laughs.
Trump displayed the extremely forthright style and advised sense of humor that commencement propelled him into the White House, and certainly showed no sign of losing any of his fabled energy.
I also agreed with him about a number of issues, as I have washed in the past.
I've never been tribal or partisan about Trump — of the 100 or so columns I wrote virtually him during his presidency, effectually half were positive, half negative.
But things took a dramatic down turn when I finally brought upwards his refusal to accept defeat in 2020 and the appalling scenes on January six.
I told him I believe he lost the supposedly "rigged, stolen" ballot, I repeatedly pointed out his failure to produce any evidence of the widespread voter fraud he insists occurred to rob him of his presidency, and I blamed his refusal to admit defeat for the deadly riots at the Capitol.
"Then y'all're a FOOL!" he sneered. "And you oasis't studied!"
He was back to the furious Trump he'd been in his office and branded me a fool six more times, in between calling Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell "stupid," and his former vice president, Mike Pence, "foolish and weak."
Our commonage criminal offence was that none of usa agree he had the election stolen.
Now abandoning whatever pretense at cordiality, Trump ranted that he was far more honest than I, and once more sneered that I wasn't "real" before haranguing me for exceeding our 20 minutes, which was particularly disingenuous given that during all our previous interviews, he'd invariably decided exactly how long he wanted to keep talking.
As he bellowed insults at me for disbelieving his rigged-election bulls–t, it reminded me of the scene in "A Few Good Men" where Jack Nicholson's arrogant, deluded Colonel Jessup calls Tom Cruise'southward military lawyer, Lt. Kaffee, a "snotty little bastard" for grilling him about ordering a mortiferous Code Red penalty on a Marine.
"I want the truth," demands Kaffee.
"YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH!" roars a cynical Jessup, before losing his rag, lecturing Kaffee most loyalty and honor, and so finally albeit his culpability.
I don't expect Trump to ever admit he lost the ballot fairly or confess to being responsible for the January six carnage.
We'll never hear him say, "Yous're goddamn right I did!" like Col. Jessup because, ironically, he can't handle the truth.
Incensed Trump tried to end things by declaring, "That's it!" before I reminded him that we hadn't discussed his hole-in-one, which he then sabbatum down once more and did — briefly — before abruptly jumping to his feet, looking hateful, and barking at the shocked crew: "TURN THE CAMERAS OFF!"
Then he turned on his heel, and sloped angrily off through a side door, loudly muttering, "So dishonest …"
It wasn't a rhetorical observation.
Apparently, he was afterwards heard denouncing me every bit a "scumbag" and proverb he wished he'd never washed the interview.
But I thought it was the all-time i we've ever washed together, and all the tension created past the damning document he was given gave it a crepitation and free energy that makes for compelling tv set.
As for who sent him the document in the first place, Trump told me it came from London and gave information technology to me to "go on equally souvenir of your treachery."
Mysteriously, it contains two random, very positive comparative quotes from British politician Nigel Farage, who now works every bit a presenter for my rival UK network GB News.
Oh, and by an boggling coincidence, Farage happened to have dinner with Trump at Mar-a-Lago on April eight, but three days before I was there.
You lot don't need to be a rigged-election conspiracy theorist to work out who probably sent it.
The next day, I sent Trump an email thanking him for his time and included these words: "You had every right to get annoyed and call me a fool for not assertive the ballot was stolen from you, but I besides have every correct to my opinion, and I wasn't going to lie to your face only to avoid annoying yous. The best friends are the nigh honest/disquisitional ones, not the sycophants."
As I write this, 10 days afterwards, I haven't had any reply.
Perhaps nosotros'll never speak again, and our friendship is over?
I hope not. Donald Trump remains one of the world's most interesting people, he is even so the almost popular Republican choice for 2024 nominee, and if Biden's presidency continues to self-implode as badly equally information technology currently is, he could end up back in the White House in two years.
In which eventuality, I can only imagine his fury if nosotros all say that election was rigged, and Biden had the presidency stolen from him.
The heated word will air on Morgan'southward new prove "Piers Morgan Uncensored" available from Apr 25. The program will air every weeknight on networks across the globe, including Play a joke on Nation, Talk TV in the Uk, and Sky News Commonwealth of australia.
Source: https://nypost.com/2022/04/20/my-fiery-showdown-with-donald-trump-over-his-stolen-election-claims/
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