A Wasteland President, Part 4

“One hundred years?!” Trump repeated himself, fiddling in his pocket for a handkerchief to soak up his forehead sweat.

“Looking for your cellphone?”

Trump nodded, looking so wronged and so young.

“Good news is I have your cellphone!”

Trump’s eyes twinkled.

“Bad news is it’s practically worthless! AzureStar no longer has employees.”

Trump lurched forward. “I’ll talk to ’em. I’ll talk to the CEO.  We’ll create jobs and get out of this mess!”

“No one cares about jobs, anymore, Donald. Look around you!”

Donald looked around him. One of the orcs was giving him the fish eye.

“Could use better lighting, I think. Come with me, Steve. We’ll go on the road like old times!”

Bannon clenched both hands inside his tattered trench coat. “Not gonna happen. Things have changed, Donald. Let me spell it out for you. Fuck, never mind that! I’ll just tell you! If there’s anyone resembling a President here, a man in charge, it’s me!”

Donald was about to blow his stack. “The people won’t stand for this!”

“Let’s cut the shit, cuck. No one is around to absorb the blow. Priebus is gone. Tillerson never made it back from Cancun. Kushner is in Texas doing quite well for himself. Point is, all of your old scapegoats are no longer here. Except me.”

“And the Clintons? The Obamas?”

“Okay, they’re still here…”

“Then all isn’t lost. It’s just begun…”

“No, listen. Donald. You’re done. Toast without caviar. Fuckin’ finished! Just accept it. You’re lower on the totem pole now, and I need you to do a job for me.”

“Jobs? I’m listening.”

“Go to the F.B.I headquarters. Hack into the computers and steal a file called “Some_Files.exe, and come back here. We’ll use that info to smear the FBI. Got it? Should I repeat myself?”

“No, Steve, I got it.”

“If you need to contact me for any reason, take this flute. It will summon a homing pigeon. Use it sparingly!”

Trump nodded, only to be knocked to the ground by the debris of an exploding wall to his left. He could hear Obama’s voice before he faded from consciousness. Everything was going to be okay. Obama was there to save him.

A Wasteland President, Part 3

A Wasteland President, Part 5

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A Wasteland President, Part 3

Trump was escorted from the ruins of Mar-a-Lago by a rough-handed orc. The beast reminded him of someone, but he couldn’t quite place it. All he knew was that he wanted to ask it questions, to ask it advice. It was far more attuned to this world than he was, seeing as how the world seemed so different from the one he had known less than three hours ago.

“You’ll take me to your leader?” he asked the orc. “Wait, what am I saying? I am your leader.”

The orc merely grunted, pulling Trump’s arm so that what was attached to it would follow. The group of orcs stopped at a circular steel door several blocks away.

“I hope this was made with American steel,” Trump said, glancing at the green beast. It didn’t respond. Trump was hauled before a short man wearing a tattered vampire’s cloak. The man had his back turned to the President.

“All is well, I presume?” Bannon’s voice seemed to rotate his body to face Trump.

“Steve! Thank god! I haven’t seen you in hours! How’s the country holding up?”

“Oh you know, we’re that thin dividing line between civilization and floating in space.”

“I took a chance with you, Bannon. Glad it’s paid off. You served the country well in the few hours I’ve been gone.”

“It’s been a hundred years, you cuck.”

“One hundred years?! You shittin’ me?!”

A Wasteland President, Part 2

A Wasteland President, Part 4

A Wasteland President, Part 2

With the heat from the dead Secret Service agent nearly spent, Trump wondered what would come next. He was all alone finally. No one to distract him from what was really important.

“I’ll just wait for someone to come along. Yep. That’s the plan.”
“But nothing came along”
” Wait, did I say that out loud? Maybe if I talk loudly enough, someone will come. They always do. They have to.”

Something that sounded like a car engine came closer.  One wall came crashing down, chunks of debris being unceremoniously flung to forgotten corners.

“Are you Trump?” an orcish voice asked from the gloom.

“I couldn’t be anyone else,” he responded.

As the smoke cleared, Trump glimpsed a large spiked vehicle. Green muscular beings poured out of it, brandishing chains and the like.

“What do you want?” Trump asked the orcs. “Have you come to save me?”

“No one we’ve ever encountered has put it quite like that,” the one orc who looked like the leader said.

A Wasteland President, Part 1

A Wasteland President, Part 3

Stephen “Steve” Bannon–The Forgotten Lump

The moorings of time have eroded
Leaving the lump atop his mountain
To fight outta obscurity
Thomas Cromwell wasn’t made in a fortnight
Just ask his successor
Pope-fighter and establishment-buster

Emperor Vader-Cheney
Made imperious by hyphens and self-bestowed titles
He defies time in a fractured state
Velocity increases, only increasing the torture in that chamber

Vader waits, gliding in a circle around the room
Known as the “war chamber”
Hussein was there
Bin Laden too
All the forgotten people
Waiting to released from the chamber

Cheney wants just one more chance
That’s all he needs
To prove himself to his tool
Showing the rusty wrench
Who is pulling the levers

 

 

The GOP probably wants you dead!

Obamacare’s replacement would cut federal funding for like, you know, plague outbreaks and bioterrorism (almost a billion’s worth).

Is this the GOP’s idea of “personal responsibility”?

Better that reams of cash be spent on a wall than plague prevention.

 

Obamacare. It’s all over, folks!

“Aides sat with blankets in their laps or around their shoulders in the overly air-conditioned room. One snuck in a box of Dunkin’ Donuts “Munchkins” to share.”

Did CNN just endorse Dunkin’?

“We’d rather focus on minutiae, thanks.”

So much for whipping up hysteria to strengthen democracy. Munchkins are the “bricks and mortar” of a healthy government of checks and balances.