After a day spent in seclusion watching news reports, binging on fast food and mass produced, cream filled, diabetes inducing snacks, President Trump stumbled, wide eyed and manic, into the Tuesday morning White House Press Briefing.
Absentmindedly handing over a half eaten box of Cap’n Crunch and adjusting his stained Trump Brand robe, the President smiled at the White House press corps and launched into what appeared, at first, to be a stump speech.
“This is such a great turn out! I wish the media would report things like this!” Trump said as he smiled, revealing a few food bits still wedged in between his teeth. He wiped his slimy hands on his robe, leaving faint smears of Cheeto dust and post masturbatory residue.
He pointed at the room, lost in a haze of madness brought on by the fear of repercussions stemming from a lifetime of narcissistic hubris as he leveled charges against a mainstream media that had thus far given this troglodyte in human form much more consideration than he ever rightly deserved.
“We all know it’s fake news. We all know that. And they lie. They lie so, so bad. They’ll never be honest with the American people. They can’t because only losers become reporters. We all know this.”
After a fifteen minute harangue that vacillated between semi-coherent, if lacking in formal structure, to vignettes of words, and phrases that maintained a resemblance to language, President Trump got to the heart of matter.
“Now even though I’ve written the book ‘Art of the Deal’, and it’s a wonderful book that’s all about me, let me say this… And it’s gonna sound confusing but not all deals are good. Okay? Just because someone offers you a deal doesn’t mean you should take it. Because other people, namely myself, may have better deals, okay?” President Trump said as he white knuckled death gripped the podium with both hands.
He looked into the cameras, his eyes wide with panic, “Okay! Jared. You’re part of the family now. And we don’t go against the family. I’m the President! I can take care of all of this!”
Chief of Staff John Kelly, and White House Succubi Kelly Anne Conway stood off to the side watching the car crash that has become the standard for American Leadership unfold.
Kelly stood stone faced, his skin covering the cavernous, rotted expanse that was now his being, a place where a principled self once resided.
For her part, Kelly Anne grinned manically from ear to ear, nodding rapidly along with each point Trump made. She periodically covered her mouth as a titter slipped past her lips.
Beads of sweat rolled down the President’s brow as he begin to mutter incoherently, lost completely over to half the baked terrors of a diseased mind.
“I won the Electoral College.”
“Illegal Mexican Rapists gave Hillary those other votes.”
“I make deals. Pussy deals.”
“I grab pussy deals. I get the best deals.”
The press conference was mercifully brought to an end when First Lady Melania Trump came out and placed a gentle hand on the President’s shoulder. “I make the best deals!” Trump half pleaded, half yelled to the First Lady. She simply nodded, and smiled small. “Yes.”
Robe half open, bulbous gut exposed, the 45th President of the United States of America exited to silence.
White House Press Secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders then took the stage and stated, “This is the level of commitment you can expect from this White House. What you just saw was the President rehearsing for a small surprise role in a play at his son Barron’s school.”
After the Press Corps issued a collective groan to the standard, everyday protocol, each camp was back safely within their ideological narratives, making sure to either keep things in balance, or wholeheartedly support the spectacle they’d just witnessed.
A lone cry from the back of the room by Justin Rosario, who was on assignment for The Daily Banter, interrupted the flow of events. “Oh for fuck’s sake! Can we just call him a fucking traitor already?!”
He was escorted out, and his White House Press Corp credentials revoked.
Update: As of this writing Ben Cohen, Ruler of the Bastion of The Daily Banter, has not reimbursed Justin’s Metro pass expenses.