Your Independent Journal from the Heartland
As the saying goes, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” nnU.S. Representative Lauren Boebert of Colorado and Georgia’s Marjorie Taylor Green, stalwart Trump supporters, but fierce frenemies—have now bonded over President Trump’s recent betrayals.
Trump refused to sign a bi-partisan bill to fund the “Finish the Arkansas Valley Conduit Act, H.R. 131 (119),” which would have helped communities in Southeastern Colorado build a vital pipeline to provide desperately needed water.
Marjorie Taylor Greene fumed over Trump’s dragging his feet about the release of the Epstein files as well as his refusal to continue the Affordable Care Act subsidies, resulting in huge increases in people’s premiums, including those of her own sister.
MTG and Boebert met recently in the House restroom and decided to bury the hatchet, so to speak, perhaps into Trump’s skull.
As soon as they developed the concept of a plan, they contacted JD Vance for a private meeting.
JD, in turn, contacted his best beloved buddy, billionaire, Peter Thiel, leading member of the “PayPal Mafia,” who had funded JD all the way to the Vice Presidency and was looking forward to driving him to the Presidency itself when the time came.
“The sooner the better,” pronounced Thiel, smiling at JD and the girls. “We can’t afford any more of Trump’s demented missteps.”
And, so the plan was hatched.
One of Thiel’s best buds owned a smelting factory which had the capacity for melting down gold ingots into liquid gold.
Thiel invited JD and Trump to tour the smelting facility, hoping to impress Trump with the latest manufacturing techniques.
Trump looks around and says, “Pretty impressive. Can you do something with gold? I’ve got some gold bars the Saudis gave me. I’d love to turn them into small statues of myself and place them on all the gold shelves I have in the Oval Office.”
“Of course,” says Thiel, smiling. “Follow me.”
Thiel picks up a water bottle along the way to the smelting room.
“Here,” he says to Trump, handing over the bottle. “It gets really hot in there. You’re gonna need to stay hydrated.”
Trump nods his head and drinks from the bottle, the last thing on his mind being that he’d been slipped a mickey.
Thiel, noticing Trump wobbling, pushed him toward the vat of liquid gold, and tipped him over without so much as a peep. Asphyxiation was instant.
The girls popped out of the closet and did a little happy dance.
“The King is dead. Long live the King! Congrats, JD!”
The smelting room workers, promised $5 million each for their silence, carefully hoisted him out the vat and set Trump’s body into a desk chair and rest his arms and hand on the desktop in front of him. Within minutes, Trump was transformed for eternity into something he most coveted—the status of a 24 ct. God.
Under cover of darkness, they trucked Trump in the Oval Office, positioned him at the Resolute Desk, with arms stretched out on top of the desk, and put the finishing touches on that well-practiced smirk.
“Oh, My Jesus, Trump’s preserved for all time, just the way we wanted him to be,” cried MTG. “We can kneel and pray at this feet now, without worrying about the Secret Service coming to remove us. We can charge as much as we want for people to bow down and worship.”
The fact that Trump was now dead bothered no one.
“He’s with Jesus now,” says Boebert, “and he’s with us too, forever. That’s all people care about.”
At that very moment, a booming, bass voice bellowed, “I admit I didn’t do a very good job with him. My Bad. But at last, my mistake has been obliterated. I promise to do better next time!!”
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. She has a new (serious) book, “If You’d Only Listen: A Medical Memoir of Gaslighting, Grit & Grace,” available on Amazon if you can’t find it at your more respectable neighborhood bookstore. It has received all sorts of prizes — see RosieSorenson.com.
Email RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com
