Elon Musk sat in the audience at a recent Trump rally in Pennsylvania as Trump foregrounded his supposed love for women:
“You will no longer be abandoned, lonely, or scared,” Trump said to a crowd of 4,000 as he hitched up one shoulder, then the other
“You will no longer be in danger. You will no longer have anxiety from all of the problems our country has today. You will be protected, and I will be your protector. Women will be happy, healthy, confident, and free. You will no longer be thinking about abortion!”
Spoken like a true stage hypnotist from the good old days or like Tony Robbins at a NLP (Neuro-linguistic Programming) seminar before the walking-on-fire thing commenced.
Musk was overcome as he watched Trump skillfully work to bamboozle millions of women. The crowd erupted in shouts, in hoots, in gibberish, over and over again.
“How does that fat, ignorant sucker do it?” Musk muttered under his breath. “He’s nothing but a Monopoly® money billionaire.”
Watching Trump command such an audience only inflamed his jealousy. “I’m the richest Motherf*cker on the planet! Why should Trump have all the adoration, all the fun?”
The following day in another Pennsylvania town, Musk could be seen bouncing around Trump’s stage like a cheerleader on speed; like a deranged bunny; like a guy with Asperger’s who’s high on Ketamine.
Trump, who himself has been said to have ADHD, hollered, clapped and egged Musk on. The audience loved it. Not just Trump —they loved him, loved Musk.
Still, the jealousy fulminated inside him. He had to DO something.
Musk had seen the outpouring of love, the attention and the sympathy for Trump after two assassination attempts—the belief, even, that it was God who had saved him.
“Well, why not stage one of my own?” he mused as he brushed back his hair.
One night, in a drug-induced frenzy he wrote a post on his own Dark Website: “CrazeeAsIWannaB”:
“Looking for someone to assassinate me. Just kidding. I want someone to make it look like he was trying to assassinate me, but missed. Can you do that? I will supply the gun and the bail and the attorney—incognito, of course. $10,000,000. No payment, though, if you actually kill me.”
Unbeknownst to Musk, his first-born son, “X Æ A-Xii,” or X for short, had been stalking him on the Dark Web and reported his father to the FBI. Two agents monitored the site until someone took the bait, and then they pounced, charging both the 20-something buyer and the seller, Musk.
“You can’t do this,” hollered Musk, as they slapped the cuffs on him. “This is America and my First Amendment right of Freedom of Speech!”
“No, it isn’t,” said agent Malone. “You’ve obviously never read the fine print.”
“Can’t you take a joke?” cried Musk.
“No.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“No.”
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, December 1, 2024
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