Maximum Carnage Quotes

Trump was made for these moments, having spent decades mastering camera angles and production quality, distorting his expressions and gestures for maximum dramatic impact. He was having the time of his life. Bush was not. Awkward and reticent, with his six-foot-four frame coiling into itself due to poor posture, the former governor was already sore about having to compete with the Judas known as Rubio. Now he was forced to endure the indignity of sharing top billing with a man who had spent the last year mocking his family. Trump could read the repulsion on his rival’s face. At one commercial break, he turned to Bush. “Jeb, how you doing?” he asked. “I’m fine, Donald.” “So, where are you going after this?” “Headed to New York for some fund-raising events tomorrow.” Trump beamed. “You want a ride? I’ve got my plane here. We’re heading back tonight.” Bush stared blankly. “No. I’m good. We’ve got a ride.” “You sure?” Bush nodded briskly. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.” Trump, feet still positioned perfectly over his stage mark for the television cameras, turned toward his family in the front row and winked. It was a down payment on the space he would occupy inside Bush’s head for the duration of the campaign.