One Old White Guy Talks

The Don (arrives with Elon Musk on a leash): Come along, Elon. If I had known a pet was this easy to train, I’d have gotten one as a kid. They say you can treat a dog badly, and the mutt will still be loyal. So right, Elon. Just think of my MAGA base. What a bunch of fools.

Steven “Thriller” Miller: Oh Lord Trump. My homage flows over you like immigrants streaming out of the country. It’s a dream come true, my Lord. And you are the purveyor of Sturm und Drang. Our Fuhrer would have been proud of you like the boys you released from prison to honor our mission. When can I start filling planes, trains, and automobiles with the dirt of the earth, the scum of the soil, the pox of the planet. Oh Lord, I quiver with joy.

The Don: Merchandise, Stevie child. We must think of monetization. The illegals need to go, but we need to put bucks in my pocket. 

Robert “The Pawn” Kennedy: Oh, all-knowing Trumpolicious, your ken is king. I think you should take my idea of which my worm tells me and make it yours as it always should be. I am but a lowly, insignificant peon and can only stand in your presence with hat and sunglasses on. But Lord Trump, a board game, “Shoots and Ladders,” is a perfect fit for our program. Genius – your genius.

Marjorie ”Trailer” Greene: Oh Bobby, come and rub me with some unpasteurized milk. Your idea, which is the idea of Master Lord Trump, is mental giantry. We’ll have our slave-media infants app it to their platforms. Then the Wise One of all Wise Ones will decree via executive order that each school must buy 10, at $99.99 each, and have first graders play the game. As our brilliant savior has deigned with a motto beyond all mottos, “If your immigrant play-piece uses a ladder, he’ll be shot, you lose the game, and must go to an attitude readjustment center.”

Robert “The Pawn” Kennedy: Then, oh most holy one, you’ll release the adult version, “Tunnels and TNT.” AR-15 carrying henchmen will force unsuspecting Latin Americans into tunnels on the Mexican side of the wall. The caravan of people will march through the openings into the waiting patriots who will toss sticks of dynamite at them. The player who collects the most body parts wins the game. Oh, Lord Donald, you are such a man of the people.

The Don: Bobby, you might not have vaccines, but you do have the dastardly personality needed to run America’s health system – into the ground. Down, Elon. We’ll get to AI as soon as I figure out how intelligence can be artificial. My IQ is higher than anyone has ever seen before. And anyway, how can intelligence have a quotient. Mine is unlimited.

Mike Johnson walks into the bunker.

Mike “Jaunty” Johnson: Oh most Holy Commander-in-Chief, forgive me for interrupting, but alas a situation has arisen like you did from the depths of Democrat election tomfoolery to become the rightful throne sitter, the maker of all that is spectacular, the cleanser of the American wasteland. Some of the House, your House, are wavering and forming their own opinions about how America’s cash, in reality your cash, is going to be spent. I beg you to seize them and make a mockery of all they believe.

The Don: Hesitate not. Bring them to me.