Trump news conference

Scenario: President Trump is agitatedly seated before a bank of TV screens in the Oval Office. Kellyanne is seated on one knee, and on the other is the strident, young brown shirt of the Sunday morning programs. They are mopping sweat off the boss’s face and whispering in his ears: “Bad, bad; mean; mean.”

Trump abruptly rises, dumping both bad angels on their keisters. He barks out:

TRUMP: Get those rotten assholes into the East Room; I’m having a news conference!
STAFFER: But, Mr. President, we’re not prepared...

TRUMP: Did I ask a question? Get ‘em in there!
STAFFER: Yes, Mr. President.

TRUMP: (To assembled reporters) Look, I’m sick of all this negativity. I’m not a bad guy. Why are you always pounding on me? You, over there, with your hand up.
REPORTER: Mr. President, why are you keeping the Vice President out of the loop, allowing him to go on the air with obviously incomplete information?

TRUMP: What do you guys know? All you do is produce fake news. Next.
REPORTER: Mr. President, checking your statistics against the facts just doesn’t add up.

TRUMP: Haven’t you dummies ever heard of, “Alternative facts”? Just ask Kellyanne. You, over there.
REPORTER: Mr. President, there has been a rash of anti-Semitic occurrences around the country since your election. Some say they are attributable to your rhetoric.

TRUMP: Are you kidding? I got a Jew son-in-law right here; he won’t even work on Saturdays. And my beautiful daughter has latched onto that Jew thing, too. You guys ought to keep up. There must be somebody out there with a friendlier attitude. You, over there.
REPORTER: Mr. President, since you were elected, Vladimir Putin has re-positioned weapons in Europe; made threatening moves in Ukraine; and, in order to better interfere with our communications, has a ship trawling off our coast.

TRUMP: What do you want me to do – blow the ship; out of the water? You guys just don’t get Vlad, do you? Don’t you realize that if you keep on poking him he could nuke us when we weren’t even looking? Yeah, I know – we got nukes, too; but my briefers tell me they’re just for show; that our souls still ache from Hiroshima; that we’d be really hesitant to do that again. So, don’t you dummies see how vulnerable we’d be if Vlad knew this? Let me take care of him; he’s a decent sort of a fella.
REPORTER: But, Mr. President...

TRUMP: Oh, shut up and sit down! I’m getting’ tired of you young, white liberals, pickin’ at me all the time. I see one of my African Americans over there. Yo, mah sistah – got anything to say?
REPORTER: Mr. President, for some time now, the CBC has been concerned with getting the Federal Government involved in some of the worse intercity areas...

TRUMP: So, you represent the, “College of Black Criminals” – is that the one headed by Frederick Douglas? BTW: Tell him I’m still on for lunch.
REPORTER: Uh, Mr. President, that’s the, “Congressional Black Caucus.” They have been attempting to arrange a meeting with you.

TRUMP: Oh, yeah, that group. Sure, I’ll meet with ‘em. Why don’t you set it up? You know ‘em, right?
REPORTER: Mr. President, yes, I am acquainted with some of the members...

TRUMP: Aw, don’t be shy; all you guys know each other. Go ahead, set it up; I’ll be glad to meet with ‘em. Maybe we can chow down on some chitlins and greens.
REPORTER: Mr. President, I am a reporter; just trying to do my job like the rest of them here...

TRUMP: That’s the problem; you guys listen to all those White liberals. They’re only nice to you because of your votes. You’d be amazed at some of the things they say behind your back!
REPORTER: Mr. President, the CBC complains that, for some time, they have been attempting to arrange a meeting with you...

TRUMP: Like I said, just set it up. There’s not a prejudiced bone in my body. Just ask Amorosa and Ben Carson – Mah ace-boon-coon Niggah! That’s all, guys.
REPORTERS: Mr. President, Mr. President...

TRUMP: No, that’s enough. All you guys want is more grist for your now very fake news mill. I’ve had it for now.

Hey, Sean, get these guys outta here! Sean! Where’s my Jew son-in-law? Oh, there you are. Gas up Trump Air Force One. I yearn for the smell of grease paint and the roar of the crowd!

Curtis W. Long

Curtis W. Long

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