World boxing champion Manny “Pacman” Pacquiao was working out in a gym in Hollywood, California to prepare for his fight against Shane Mosley on May 7, 2011, when billionaire Donald Trump walked in unannounced. Pacman recognized Donald and stopped his workout. “Hoy, aren’t you the Donald Trump?” Pacman hollered at him. “Yes, that’s me! The one and only Donald Trump!”
Pacman: Well, I’m the one and only Manny Pacquiao, too. He he he…
Donald: That makes the two of us unique, my friend.
Pacman: Eunuch? Hoy, Donald Duck, speak for yourself! I am not a eunuch!
Donald: A eunuch? Oh, no no no. I mean “unique,” spelled U-N-I-Q-U-E. It so happen that it is pronounced like eunuch. Whew! Sorry about that… now, can I call you, “my friend”?
Pacman: Okey lang. But be careful with what you say, okey donkey?
Donald: Okey donkey? He he he… You mean, okey dokey, right?
Pacman: Same thing, same thing. What brings you here, Donald Duck? You look different in person. You’re photogenital. He he he…
Donald: Photogenital? Huh? What’s that?
Pacman: Well, you know… uh… you look better in your photo. He he he…
Donald: Oh, you mean, photogenic, right?
Pacman: Same thing, same thing. You need to have a plastic face, pal. Your hair… or is that a toffee on your head? He he he…
Donald: You mean to say, toupee, right? No, my hair is real!
Pacman: Whatever. It looks teribol! With all your billions why don’t you have a hair plantation?
Donald: You mean to say “hair transplant,” right? You’re funny, my friend. Ha ha ha…
Pacman: Don’t tell me you declared bankruptcy again? Are you here to borrow money from me?
Donald: Well, not exactly… but having three ex-wives is hurting my pocketbook. I wish I were like you, married only once. What’s your secret?
Pacman: I love my wife and my wife loves money. We’re picture perfect. He he he…
Donald: I love my ex-wives, too. But they got more money by divorcing me.
Pacman: I really feel sorry for you. With three ex-wives and four bankruptcies, you’re a double-loser, pal!
Donald: Hey, hey, hey! Don’t you call me a double-loser, okay? I wrote the book “The Art of the Deal” 35 years ago and millions of people are still reading it! Why don’t you read it, then you can stop boxing for a living and be like me… just making deals!
Pacman: Don’t you know that a Filipino general committed suicide while he was reading your book? And you want me to read it? No way, Donald Duck!
Donald: Wait till I become president of the United State, Pacboy! Then you know what a winner is!
Pacman: You wanna be the president of the US of A? Ha ha ha… Do you think you can beat Obama? No way, ducky boy!
Donald: My strategy is to prove that he’s not a native-born American. That would disqualify him from running for re-election.
Pacman: Huh? Didn’t you read in the papers yesterday that Obama produced a true copy of his long-form birth certificate?
Donald: I don’t believe it till I see it.
Pacman: Hey, look who’s coming in the door!
Obama: Hey, Manny! I just happen to be in the neighborhood on my way to a Hollywood fundraiser for my reelection campaign. I thought I’d drop by. Kumusta, amigo.
Pacman: Mr. President! What a surprise! I’m pissed to see you!
Obama: Huh? Pissed? Oh, you mean you’re pleased to see me, right?
Pacman: Same thing, same thing, mojo man! He he he…
Obama: And who is this loser? (pointing at Donald)
Pacman: This is Donald Trump, the chump. He he he… He said he doesn’t believe you were born in the US. Sige, show him your birth certificate, Mr. President.
Obama: A chump, indeed. I’ll show mine if he shows his. He looks like an alien from Mars.
Donald: I’m not a chump! I find that offensive, el presidente!
Obama: Well, you look the part, amigo. Perhaps, you should have an extreme makeover. With you’re funny-looking toupee, you certainly look like a chump… hmm… actually, you remind me of a carnival barker! Woof woof…
Pacman: A carnival barker! Woof woof… He he he…
Donald: I’m going to run against you in next year’s election! And I’m gonna beat you!
Obama: Hey, why not? I might even contribute to your primary campaign! You’re my ideal opponent, my friend.
Donald: Why so?
Obama: Cuz you look like a washed-out carnival barker with a funny-looking toupee. Maybe, my friend Pacman here can teach you how to lose some weight and look like a winner like him. Right, Manny?
Pacman: Mr. President, I don’t think I can help Donald Duck.
Obama: Why not?
Pacman: Cuz he’s hopeless, Mr. President. He’s… uh… never mind.
Obama: Whatever you say, Manny.
Donald: I’m outta here! I’ll beat you in the election!
Obama: Hasta la vista, amigo! See you at the carnival. Woof woof…
