This is the New Yorker Radio Hour, a co-production of WNYC Studios and The New Yorker.

My Living Will

If I should remain in a persistent, vegetative state for more than 15 years, I would like someone to turn off the TV.

If I am unable to feed, clean, or dress myself,

I would like to be referred to as Mr. Trump.

Do not resuscitate me before noon.

Assume that even in a coma, I can still hear discussions about my apartment.

If there is any family dispute over my medical condition, it must be settled with a dreidel.

Even if I remain in a persistent vegetative state for more than 15 years, that still doesn't mean bangs.

If my doctor pronounces me brain dead, I would like to see the new Ashton Coochard movie.

I do not wish to be kept alive by any machine that has a popcorn setting. I would like to die at home, surrounded by my attorneys. In the event

of an open coffin, I would like smoky evening eyes.

In lieu of flowers or donations, I would prefer rioting.

Paul Rudnick, the playwright and novelist and screenwriter with a piece called My Living Will.

Welcome to the New Yorker Radio Hour. I'm David Remnick, and thanks for joining us.

Later on in the hour, director Sophia Coppola talks about working with Bill Murray.

But we're going to start with a story about a businessman, a real estate tycoon, born and raised in New York, with incredible hair and a pension for making headlines.

His name, you already know, is Donald Trump.

Years ago, long before the outrageous pronouncements about Muslims and Mexicans and women,

Donald Trump's outrageous remarks were generally found in the New York tabloids, which seemed to adore him.

Back in those days, Mark Singer, who's a staff writer for the New Yorker, got the assignment to write a profile of

Trump for the magazine. And he told the story on stage at an event put together by the

...