There’s no longer a question of “Will he or won’t he?”
Trump’s attorneys tried to talk him out of it, but Trump insisted upon testifying at his own criminal trial in New York City.
“My fans want to hear the truth from me!” he hollered. “I don’t want them to think I’m a p***y!”
It’s 9:00 a.m., Thursday. Trump is sitting upright in the witness box, having been admonished by Judge Merchan to “Tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God.”
Trump squirms, waves his hand in the air and says “Yes, yes! Let’s get on with it.”
Prosecuting attorney Joshua Steinglass draws near, takes a beat, says, “You’re not happy to be here, are you?”
“What, me? No. Hell, I’ve been breaking laws since you were in diapers, so fire away, my little legal beagle.”
“You’re admitting crimes?”
“Of course not. I just wanted to see if Trump’s little joke might rattle you.”
Steinglass takes a deep breath and begins. “Tell me about Stormy Daniels.”
“Who?”
“Stormy Daniels. That blond woman sitting in the back row.”
Trump cranes neck around, shakes his head, says, “Never met her.”
Steinglass holds up a photo of Trump and Stormy. “Remember now?”
“Look, I’m famous! Women want their photo taken with me all the time. You can’t expect me to remember everyone.”
“You just heard her testimony, about how you met at a golf tournament, asked her to dinner in your room and then had sex with her.”
Trump shrugs and bobs his head. “If she says so. I was napping when she was talking.”
Steinglass continues, “She also said that when she asked about Melania, your wife, you brushed it aside, said, ‘Oh yeah, yeah, you know, don't worry about that. We don't even—we have separate rooms and stuff.’"
“If you say so,” says Trump, trying not to squirm.
“She says so, under oath.”
“Look, we had sex, OK? And, it was fantastic.”
“That was not what Stormy said. She told Jimmy Kimmel you had a tiny mushroom-topped penis and that you didn’t wear a condom and that she prayed for death while you were on top of her.”
“Biden paid her to say that. Look, having a baby messes with the lady parts, you know? After Barron was born, Melania moved into her own bedroom and got some new panties that said, you know—what she had printed on her green jacket the day we went to the border to visit illegal children in their cages—the panties said, ‘I really don’t care, do you?’ I didn’t like it but you don’t cross Melania or she’ll cut you
“So you did have sex with her—Stormy Daniels?”
“That’s what I just said, dumbass. Where did you get your law degree—in a Cracker Jack box?”
Steinglass glances at the clock and says, “I think that’s all for today. We will take this up again tomorrow.”
Trump rushes to the back of the room, assumes his favorite position in front of the cameras. He straightens his blue tie, smiles and says, “I want to begin by wishing my wife, Melania, a Happy Birthday, it’s her birthday today, be nice to be with her but I’m in a courthouse for a rig trial a rig trial but we’re doing very very well, everybody knows it, she’s in Florida and I just want to say Melania, that none of this happened, you know, and even if it did, it wouldn’t have meant anything you’re my wife and I love you.”
He starts to turn away, then swings back to scowl and point at the camera, “This is all Biden’s fault, all of it.
“See you soon!”
Rosie Sorenson is a humor writer in the San Francisco Bay Area. Her column is satire and, like Fox “News,” cannot be believed as fact. You can contact Rosie at: RosieSorenson29@ yahoo.com. See RosieSorenson.com
From The Progressive Populist, June 1, 2024
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