Trump as student

When I hear Donald Trump dodge and lie, I sometimes imagine what it might have been like to have him as a student. Imagine young Trump, having left (flunked out of?) Fordham College, speaking to a professor teaching an econ class at Penn.

“Mr. Trump, I regret to tell you that the paper you gave me is largely plagiarized.”

“The girl who does my typing must have given me the wrong paper. That’s someone else’s paper; she must have put my name on it by mistake.”

“Can you ask her for your paper?”

”I don’t know her name. I don’t know the girl. She does my typing for me. I met her at a party.”

[Taken aback.] “Well, do you have something that you can show me of the work that you did for your paper?”

“That’s all back in New York. I’m leaving this afternoon for the weekend. I can have the paper on your desk on Monday afternoon.”

[Taken aback but remembering, too, how much loot this ne’er-do-well’s family has.] “I suppose that will be all right.”

I should add: this conversation is taking place on a Wednesday.