The Real Donald Trump recently emerged from behind the AI Bot façade created by his current campaign managers to project onto the populace a new Trump, chastened by his near-death experience. And to give the old man a rest.
“That AI Guy is a phony,” hollers Trump during one of his campaign meetings.“He makes me look stupid and stupid I ain’t. I’m a stable genius. Just ask Melania. From now on, I’m in charge of me. With God on my side, I don’t need to rest.” Out of Trump’s line of sight, top staff Chris La Civita and Susie Wiles, roll their eyes.
“You, my stupid team, wanted me to become softer and more gentle after I got shot—you know, to soothe and to court the independents, whoever the hell they are,” he shouts as his hands flail before him, in an arabesque of accordianesque.
“But people want the Nasty Trump, not the Softie who has rolled out lame things like ‘KaMala is stupid. She just turned Black to get votes. There’s nothing worse than a Childless Cat Lady.’
“No one wants that pablum. They want the REAL DONALD J. TRUMP and I’m gonna give it to them. I’ve just hired Corey Lewandoski, my former campaign manager, to right this ship.
“At Corey’s urging, instead of wussing out on Project 25, I’m going hell-bent-for-leather on their script of pushing women back into aprons and coat hangers, forcing them to take a knee against feminism and to give the middle finger to the Gospel According to a Liberal Jesus.
“That’s what my MAGA crowd wants. That, and a White ethnostate with the elimination of all migrants, legal and otherwise. We don’t need no stinkin’ people who are not White in this White Christian Nation. We need a Purge for Purity.”
With Corey by his side, Trump has plunged back onto the Road to the White House—“It’s White, get it?” he says and winks to the adoring crowds who have returned to this rallies.
He shouts louder than ever, his red face pulsing with pride.
“KaMALA is a menopausal, incontinent N—.! Her husband, Dan, or Dougie, or whatever, is a Nasty Jew who put Space lasers in the sky to torture Marjorie Taylor Green. He must not be able to get it up because look at his Bitch wife—like she ain’t been gettin’ none for the whole time they’ve been married. Come on, Dougie, whassamaatah, can’t get it up?”
The more foul-mouthed he becomes, the more the crowds love him and shout, “Lock her up. Lock her up!”
“Now this is more like it. Let that Dumb-ass KaMala—who couldn’t find her ass in the dark—beat this crowd!” he shouts and opens up his arms. “And, Dugout Dougie, the Commie-lovin’ Christ Killer. You all know that’s what he is, right?”
The crowd hoots, hollers, squeals and wets themselves.
His TV coverage soon wanes, but that doesn’t stop Trump.
“F**ck the Fake News—who needs them? Just look at you, my beautiful people. When they steal YOUR Election, my gorgeous ones, you know what to do, right?”
The crowd erupts: “Fight the Steal. Shoot the Stealers. Fight the Steal. Kill the Stealers! Kill them, kill them, kill them now!”
Trump crosses his arms over his chest, Mussolini style, as he looks over the crowd and smiles.
“Now that’s what I call a rally!”
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. Email Rosie at: RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com. See RosieSorenson.com
From The Progressive Populist, September 15, 2024
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