The Republican Party has sown a field of misogynist racists and a New York Democrat has come along and stolen the crop at harvest time! Their sole hope is The Oprah, she is the only one who can stop The Donald but will she get there in time? Does she care? Stay tuned......
Oh no, The Donald has stopped The Oprah with an army of mutant border crossing guards that he kidnapped from the pews of the Catholic Church while he was there having sex with the lovely and talented Marla Maples. He's been feeding them Trump Steaks and 5 Hour Energy drinks for years in his lavish basement laboratory in New York City and now each one of them is the size of Hulk Hogan in his heyday. They've got her pinned and are force feeding her some kind of strange green goo that looks like liquid money, and...what's this? Oh no! She's consented to run with him as his Vice President! Say it isn't so! What has he done to The Oprah?!!!! He is too strong, even for The Oprah.....Where is Underdog when you need him?
Wait...wait....what is happening to mild mannered Ben Carson? It looks like he's getting angry, very angry and you know what happens to him when he gets angry...he becomes The Hulk...armed with a tiny knife and a hammer and he's going after The Donald with a vengeance.
"Hulk kill Trump! Take The Oprah! Rarrrrr!"
The Donald is not scared and he fills a stadium with prepubescent choir boys to pacify the green-brown creature with a rendition of Amazing Grace and God Bless America....The Hulk is becoming the quiet Ben Carson once more...The Donald is truly unstoppable and he's heading straight for the Republican Convention in Cleveland, with The Oprah in tow, leaving a trail of burned out polling places in their wake, followed by an army of white-hooded klansmen.
This could be the big one for the Republican Party, the end of the line, the final train out of politics. Don't touch that dial, don't turn that channel, keep your mouse pointer right here for the amazing conclusion of The Donald That Ate America!
The Republicans are not going down without a fight and they're fighting back, ladies and gentlemen, as the terrifying presidential candidates make their way across the Mississippi River they are stopped by a wall of parade floats in the likeness of Stedman pulled by a tractor-trailer driven by....OMG....Caitlyn Jenner! Who knew she was a member of the GOP? Will she never stopped amazing us with fantastic transformations that would make a transformer envious? Oh, Caitlyn, save us, please!!!
"Oprah, please, listen to me. It's your friend, Caitlyn. It's okay to fall down. The world looks different from the ground. Do it for me. Do it for Stedman. Besides, brown does not go well with orange. Think about it."
The Oprah, stunned in her tracks halfway across the river pauses for a moment and then socks The Donald with a right hook that knocks him upstream to Iowa. She did it! The Oprah is back, fighting on the side of The Right, for Capitalism and The American Way.
The Donald is face down in the mud somewhere near Dubuque and it doesn't look like he's getting up. It's over. Hooray!!!
The End.
The credits roll.......
directed by Roger Ailes...
produced by The Koch Bros and...
20th Century Fox....
as the credits roll a van filled with members of The Posse Comitatus arrive to haul their fallen hero away.......They are dressed as Elvis Impersonators and sequin-clad white-leather suits.
Anita Bryant strolls across the muck, still wearing her Miss America crown, carrying a large plastic sack and a huge rubber hose......
A giant X fills the screen.
What's going on?
Rupert, we've been deceived!
You tricked us you dastardly bastard and our children are watching!
The X fades, the movie continues and we see Anita's back as she walks up to the fallen giant lying face down in the mud. She reaches down and pulls off his pants with her mighty Miss America hands and the true Donald is exposed. A golden thong girding his genitals explains the grimaced look on his face much of the time he spends at the podium. What's this? A leather thorn-strap wrapped around his thigh? Is The Donald really a Mormon? That would explain everything, the giant ego, the pearly white teeth, maybe not the golden thong, who knows, maybe it does?
Well practiced hands deliver the medicinal therapy our former gay-hating Miss America is known for in the circles of the elite: The Anita Bryant All-American Florida Orange Juice Enema. That's what that hose is for! Who knew?
The sack is attached to the hose and the hose is inserted in place just as the camera cuts away, sparing us the distasteful visual and leaving the rest up to our filthy imaginations, which is even worse.
We see his Italian hand-made shoes covered with brown dirt as rain drops begin to fall, at least I hope those are raindrops but they don't look like water, they're, they're.....orange!
An orange blast fills the screen, Anita is blown backwards on her ass into the mud and The Donald rises again, like Christ from the Tomb, an analogy he would believe is fitting like his huge Gucci suit but an abomination to all Christians who still vote for him in massive numbers as he wins the vaunted prize of the California Primary, pushing him over the top to 1239 delegates, two more delegates than he needs to clinch the Republican Nomination. He takes the two extra delegates and donates them to the Wounded Warrior Fund as a sign of his god-like generosity.
Once more he strides towards Cleveland, super-powered and a deeper shade of orange. He will take his prize but not before dropping his drawers and plopping a deuce onto the stage....ugh, disgusting!.....and also quite orange!
What will he do next? The world waits with bated breath......
The Donald pisses all over the stage and the GOP banners before he is confronted by a giant Bill O'Rielly.
The song, The Final Countdown, plays as he pulls up his pants and the two behemoths slug it out on stage. Bill fights like a girl and The Donald knocks him flat on his ass with his Yuge Ratings.
The Donald stomps towards the back of the stage like a giant angry child and is stopped again, this time by the women behind the man: Mae West, Barbara Stanwyck and Doris Day who is holding a puppy. They are all that stands between him and the true source of Republican power: a 40 ton dose of viagra kept in a cage underneath the stage.
The Final Countdown plays incessantly.
The camera cuts to a closeup of The Donald's face, grimacing, then it cuts to a headshot of Mae, then Barbara, then Doris, back to The Donald, then to each of the three women again.
"Out of my way, Mae," The Donald shouts.
"I'd love to Mr. Trump but, those hands, they're so small, are you sure you're man enough?"
"I will be once I get my tiny hands on that big pill." The Donald replies.
Doris Day chimes in, "I don't like parties, mister, but you'll never be a part of this party."
"Doris," The Donald says to her, "you were a ten in your day but now you're just a nine point seven, maybe even a nine point five or am I putting the decimal in the wrong place? Out of my way dog lady or I'll swat ya like a fly!"
He raises his hand and Barbara whips out her whip from The Big Valley and lashes his right hand with it.
"You've got a lot to learn, young man, and I've got a lot to teach you. On your knees, cowboy!" She pulls him to the ground.
As he kneels before her he says, laughing, "Oh, baby, you know what I like! But not now, honey, I've got to have that pill so I can fuck the GOP and, when I'm through, I'm going to fuck America from the mountains to the prairies, and then, maybe, if you're real good, I'll fuck you, too."
The Donald sweeps them aside with his giant arms and tiny, stubby hands and stands before the cage where the 40 ton pill of viagra is kept. Above the cage hangs a sign that says, "Democrats are Pussies".
He opens his giant maw and tosses the massive tablet down his throat. A moment later the floor begins to rumble beneath his Italian hand-made leather shoes....stay tuned, we'll be right back after a short break and a message from our sponsors.
The Final Countdown continues to play as the station cuts to a commercial.
A narrator reads this statement as black and white pictures of housing projects in Brooklyn and Queens show on the screen:
“Wikipedia reports this about The Trump Organization, ‘In 1973, the U.S. Justice Department's Civil Rights Division filed a civil rights suit against the Trump organization charging that it refused to rent to black people. The Urban League had sent black and white testers to apply for apartments in Trump-owned complexes; the whites got the apartments, the blacks didn't. According to court records, four superintendents or rental agents reported that applications sent to the central office for acceptance or rejection were coded by race.’ Like father, like son. This ad paid for by Citizens Concerned About The Sons Of Racists Running Our Country and is not affiliated with any candidate or political party.”
And now back to our story....
The floor rumbled and The Donald's hands grew the size of a normal man's times ten. We see closeups of his hands growing exponentially larger.....Now that he had the 'hands' of a real man and the backing of the Republican Party, he began sticking them wherever he could: up his nose, up his butt, up other people's noses and butts, eeeww! Yuk!
Soon his hands were everywhere, on giant billboards, sixty second commercials and one hour x-rated youtube videos.
He gave a large finger to everybody and sued whenever he didn't get his way. He sued The Left and The Right. He sued up and down and all around until his giant hands got their way but still he was not happy. The people did not love him properly and he banged his big hands on the table before the throne.
Voters were appalled but still he got to call himself the Republican nominee for president of the United States and he took great joy in this.
"Soon," he said, they will learn to love me as I Am for I am I Am."
The citizens took umbrage at his vulgar language which increased in number and profaneness with his new crown. Conservatives and moderates alike fled the party in droves and did the once unthinkable: registered as Democrats.
Negotiations for a debate with his Democrat challenger, The Hillary, began as the country burst into flames of riots started by nearly every group of people being insulted and denigrated by The Donald and his army of racist backers and mutant border crossing guards.
"Your taunts don't bother me," The Donald shouted from his throne atop of the building across the street from studio where the PBS Newshour broadcast its nightly program.
A name was floated on Facebook, The Megyn would be the moderator.
"Go ahead," The Donald roared from up high where servants waited on him hand and foot, "She can't hurt me now, I'm too powerful."
Would The Megyn agree to moderate the debate? Would she too be cowed by his giant hands? Stay tuned and don't turn that dial, we'll be right back after another short message from our sponsors......
A picture appears on the screen of a young man superimposed with the large letters '4F'. A narrator speaks:
"He wants to command our military to bomb women and children but when he had his chance to serve he sought and received 4 deferments as a student. Upon graduation he had his status changed to 4F citing a foot spurs. Tell us again, Donald John Trump, on which foot was that spur? Donald John Trump, unfit to serve in the Armed Forces and unfit to serve as President of the United States. This ad was paid for by Citizens Concerned About The Sons Of Racists Running Our Country and is not affiliated with any candidate or political party.”
More commercials of middle-aged couples walking on piers by the water or along the beach holding hands or holding hands while immersed in separate bathtubs; a narrator implores viewers not to take their medicine if they are using heart medication and to call a doctor if they experience erections lasting more than four hours....
A headshot of The Megyn fills the screen.
"You may begin your opening statements," the moderator says, nodding to Mrs. Clinton, "Ladies first."
The Donald interjects, "She's no lady, I've won more, I'm a bigger winner..."
The Megyn hits a large white button in front of her that immediately silences his microphone and says, "As we agreed Mr. Trump, no talking out of line or I'll cut off your...." she pauses briefly, suppressing a smile, "microphone privileges. We couldn't believe your lawyers let that one slide but I guess you don't know them as well as you thought you did. Please, Mrs. Clinton, continue."
A frustrated Trump stomps his feet and bangs his giant hands on his podium but he holds his tongue.
“Unlike you, Donald John Trump,” Hillary began before being abruptly interrupted by The Donald once again,
“You can’t call me John, only my mother can call me John, stop it, stop it, I tell you! Moderator, can you please tell this beeeyatch, that she can’t address me with my middle name.”
There was a loud noise as The Megyn's fist slammed the table, missing the cutoff button the first time but succeeding on the second and The Donald was silenced although his lips and body language indicated that he was still talking.
"As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by the witless, impotent imbecile standing right there," The Hillary continued, pointing her right hand and index finger at the giant red-faced man beside her, banging his fists and stomping his feet, “In between the Donald and the Trump is just a John trying to prove he can be somebody, starved for attention like a little boy, too stupid and too lazy to go out and get some on his own.”
When it was clear that The Megyn was not going to turn on his microphone, The Donald held his breath in a vane attempt to illicit sympathy from his tormentor to no avail.
Surprisingly, probably due to his advanced age and poor health, he was able to withhold air to his brain long enough for him to pass out. His head hit the podium as he fell to the hard floor of the stage where he began vomiting uncontrollably.
Two paramedics, an African-American woman and Mexican-American man, walked slowly to the place where he lay in his own vomit. The paramedics produced a respirator and a manual which they began to read, slowly, page by page.
When they were satisfied that they could use it correctly, they placed it over The Donald's nose and mouth but it was too late: The Donald was dead. Everyone agreed that performing CPR on national television would be inappropriate for small children who might be watching and they covered his body with a cheap wool blanket they saved wrapping up dead animals.
When it was clear that he would not be resuscitated, the audience cheered. In fact, the entire nation cheered except for his army of hooded racists. Then the whole world cheered so loudly that it set off the car alarm on the NASA rover vehicle on Mars which drained its battery in just a few minutes causing the research machine to send its last photograph back to earth: a picture of a dull, lifeless orange rock about the size of a human head.
That was the end of The Donald and this is the end of my story.
Good night,
God Bless
and Good Luck,
let's hope that none of this ever comes true.
sincerely,
The Kayak Hombre
Hey, check out this book about witches and zombies that dance tango:
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