If music be the food of love, play on;

Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,

The appetite may sicken, and so die.

--Shakespeare, Twelfth Night

Do you see what happens? Do you see what happens, Larry? This is what happens when you fuck a stranger in the ass.

--Walter Sobchak

When Donald J. Trump gets hungry he gets hungry, so I stole food outta Barron's drawer that looked kinda like mushrooms but weird, and then some weird stuff happened. Also, this word typing thing won't let me use comic sans. Obama. Sad!

I had the TV on. It's the biggest, most beautiful TV the White House has ever had, you gotta watch a lot of TV to keep an eye on the people so I watch at least 15 hours a day - Obama couldn't watch that much TV - so I had the TV on, and after I ate those things it started to look funny, it looked like it was made out of purer gold than my toilet. And weird stuff started to happen on it, too, I was watching Fake News CNN and they said my campaign to expose voting fraud (massive fraud!) was hurting America (MAGA!) and I said "you're lying sacks of shit who outta get shot," and then Don Lemon said, "this just in, we're lying sacks of shit who outta get shot." They said what I said! CNN said something real!

So I said something else for the media to repeat like they're supposed to when real leaders talk, I said, "Don Lemon has no penis and the China virus is a deep state conspiracy," and then Don Lemon said, "this just in, Don Lemon has no penis and the China virus is a deep state conspiracy." So then I turned up the TV volume and said "FRAUD! Michelle Obama bribed Georgia, Philly poll workers with underage sex slaves!" and they said it! Then I realized I had bumped a button and the channel was on OANN, so that part was actually kinda normal.

And then Roy Moore was in the room! There was this girl clinging to him, wearing a wet t-shirt and a thong. She was young, too, like 15. I'd rate her an 8, so not like a 10 like Melania was before she got those disgusting stretch marks and not like Ivanka, but not bad, you know?

"Don! Great news!" Roy said. "The Supreme Court said that I could be the judge for your voter fraud lawsuit, and they said I could have the 10 Commandments in the courtroom!"

I said a real leader would only need four commandments, and Roy said, "It's OK! Jerry Falwell Jr. and I fixed them!" We were in the Rose Garden then, don't know when thta happened [Obama had mroe typos], and I saw one of the colorless rose bushes Melania put in was burning.

"Donald J. Trump," a voice said. It was my voice! "Donald J. Trump, take these stone tablets and spread my law." And then I was holding these stone tablets. The fire from the bush spread to the White House (why didn't I think of that before? suck it, Biden) and I read the tablets.

1. I AM the Lord your Donald who led you out of diversity; thou shalt stay at no other resort or hotel besides mine.

2. Thou shalt reproduce my name and image everywhere, excepting thou beest Alec Baldwin.

3. Thou shalt keep my Twitter feed holy.

4. Thou shalt honor thy father, and thy mother if she be more than a 6.

5. Thou shalt not kill whites.

6. Grab ’em by the pussy.

7. Thou shalt not steal according to any actionable legal definition.

8. What the hell does “false witness” mean anyway? I mean, who writes this stuff? Sad!

9. Thou shalt not covet thine own wife.

10. Thy neighbor shall pay for thy goods, thy military bases, all international security arrangements, and thy yuge and beautiful wall.

"Roy! They're great!" I said. But was gone. Good guy, Roy Moore. Maybe I'll squeeze in a Presidental Medal of Freedom for him in December, if I have time. Gotta give one to Don Jr., Kim Jong-un, and Ghislaine first.

Then I did something that will always be remembered in all the history books: I shot a 53 at Augusta National! And I bought the place! It started to get a little dark when I was finishing the back 9, so I snapped my fingers and called "more light!" and then Obama was there wearing a red uniform and hat and holding a lantern for me, so I knew I had Made America Great Again.

But I was tired and decided to sleep so I was back in the Lincoln bedroom but it had my picture there instead, and I might have slept a little but then I sat up and there was Adolf Hitler! Dimensions had crossed, and I woke up with Hitler sitting calmly on the edge of my bed, nearly transparent. Unafraid, I sat up and had a conversation with him. I'll write the scene and dialogue.

I said, "Adolf, people say a lot of bad things about me. They say a lot of bad things about you, too, but there were good people on both sides."

Adolf said, "Wer bist du? Du siehst aus wie ein schwaches scheisskopf."

I said, "Eva Braun's not bad, by the way. I'd call her an 8, maybe a 9 on a good day."

Adolf said, "Du hast sehr kleine Hände, orange Mann."

I said, "Your tanks are impressive, by the way. I wanted a parade like you got but they said maybe some other time."

Adolf said, "Ich mag deine seltsamen Haare. Gemeinsam werden wir auf viele russische Prostituierte pinkeln."

Well next thing I knew I woke up and there was Melania, and I said, "I'm really thirsty," and she went to find a maid who could make me a glass of water. I saw she was wearing the robe I got her where she has "DJT" on her back. It's the nicest robe, made with the best silk. She said it was sweet that it had my initials on it. Hope she never looks DJT up on Urban Dictionary and figures it out.

“What’s that brown shit next to my hamburger?”

“Sir. Mushrooms. Sir.”

“Take this plate back to the kitchen. Everyone working in the kitchen knows I don’t eat vegetables, let alone what do you call this…formaldehyde? Fungus?”

“Sir. Fungi. Sir. Well, I believe there is a new chef in the kitchen. Perhaps he didn’t know. I will take this back and get you a fresh hamburger and I will let him know to never bring you mushrooms again.”

“Okay. Hurry it up. I’m hungry. And bring me another diet coke, no ice, right away.”

“Yes Sir. Right away Sir.”

Five or ten minutes later the waiter returned with the order and he was pleased when DJT said,

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. You can go now.”

DJT had never had such a delicious hamburger. He would make sure to tell the waiter to let the chef know. He was taking the last bite when he felt something within him slipping; like fifty pounds of blubber had just melted away, so he got up to look at himself in the mirror and although he did not see any visible changes, he was sure of a change, so sure that he called in Ivanka and he asked her,

“Ivanka, do you notice anything different about me?”

“No Daddy. Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. I feel lighter. Not quite thinner, not quite younger, but different, in a good way and I can’t put my finger on it. It is something that feels so right and yet so wrong at the same time. Foreign. It feels foreign.”

“I don’t know what to say Daddy. Maybe you should go to bed and perhaps when you wake up tomorrow morning you will be back to your old self.”

“You’re not calling me old, are you?”

“Oh Daddy. No. You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed. I feel like there is something I need to do. You can go now Ivanka. You know I am good at figuring things out by myself.”

And with that he picked up his phone. Ivanka blew him a kiss and left the room.

And for the first time in his life, DJT told the truth about everything. He went on FB live and admitted that every time he says something is fake news he is really denying facts, including that he does not have the money he claims to have, and that he really does owe various questionable lenders all those millions, and that all the female accusers are telling the truth and then some, and it is true that he thinks military personnel are suckers and losers, and that he knows he is not smart and that yes he did pay someone to take his SAT’s, and then he blurted out up so close into the phone that his uvula could be seen,

“And, NO, I am NOT the least racist person in the room. You working stiffs are so gullible you would let me shoot your mother on 5th Avenue. You believe I am fighting for you? You are all suckers for sending money to my campaign and for paying more taxes than me, oh wait, therefore I guess I am smart and by the way; SURPRISE, I am not under audit by the IRS. Wanna see my tax returns?”

And he throws his head back so far all that can be seen is his fat orange neck as he laughs uncontrollably and so does the new chef watching the shit show on FB. After all it was his genius idea to mash up the truth serum mushrooms into DJT’s hamburger.

But DJT didn’t tell his supporters that he suffers from narcissistic personality disorder and that he is blinded by hubris, because why would truth serum mushrooms be able to magically diagnose mental illness?

Just then Ivanka runs into the room and yanks the phone out of his hand violently.

“Daddy, what the hell do you think you are doing?”

“Telling the truth?????”

“Daddy, what the hell is wrong with you?”

It only took a few moments to reach Nirvana. I understood it was all an illusion and the magic mushrooms are not really magical, but it all seemed so real.

Americans had a shared vision in which success for one did not come with the price of failure for another. Individuals could not be collectivized and would not curry favor for the discarded waste of bureaucratic fiscal ineptness all while ignoring the blatant theft of tax monies and looted treasuries.

Democrats would forgo the foolishness of destroying what impedes their consolidation of power in order to advance the well being of themselves.

Republicans would actually work as a unit. The RHINO who betrays you today will betray you tomorrow.

Understand that socialism, by this or any other name, is slavery and ALWAYS results in failure, authoritarianism, and object poverty.

Understand that the United States of America is not only the best, but the only, and (now) the last hope for the prosperity of all mankind.

Understand that American citizenship, American culture, and American borders all came at the price of American blood. They always will. You reap this bounty without seeing this bill. Stop ignoring this debt.

Politicians would run for office because of an idea and not an individual benefit.

All Americans would read the US Constitution prior to summarizing or speaking of the contents of the US Constitution.

Low information voters would (somehow) finally rid themselves of the pretense of the hallowed ground of ignorance they covet and finally learn what fools they have been played for by politicians for decades.

All victims taking pride in their status should find better uses for their time. People need help, not whiners.

If you cannot be an American first, don't be an American at all. The wall is not yet finished. No one is forcing you to stay.

The media would also (finally) discard their charade of balance and fairness they publically banter about between giggling and lying.

Finally, Prose could offer a bold challenge to elevate the nation as a whole, instead of extending the degradation of a sitting US President. When the next US President stumbles, will Prose re-offer this type of distraction? Don't look at the man behind the curtain. You might learn something Prose doesn’t want you to know.

This trip ended too soon. Like all fantasies, it most likely fell on deaf ears.

White House Briefing, Dec. 4th 2020:

"I was told by Pelosi herself that this mushroom she enjoyed regularly back in the day would ease my mind and make me not so tense. It has now been only minutes and I can tell you already this has been the worse trade deal for my body in my personal health's history." I tug my magnificent tie as my stunning wife gives me the nod it should be taut.

"While I do feel tremendously more relaxed, the most relaxed I've ever felt, I look out to all of you and see those little rodents that always follow eachother, what are they called Pence?" With a proud expressionless face he replies,

"Lemmings Mr. President."

"Yes right Pence! You all look like lemmings, but also all the reporters have turned into snakes...don't look at me like that I know I've said that before, but they actually look like snakes right now. They're hissing at me...literal ANIMALS, ALL OF THEM." I run with the grace and speed of a pack of cheetahs and lock the whole white house down until my symptoms are better, but I can't let the public know some dung plant got to me.

I was told I needed to write up this report about my experience last night, so here it is. Might be a bit short since I have to get to the club by 9 AM so I can beat Tiger Woods. Sucka!!

Alright, listen up, so it’s a Tuesday night, and I’ve just finished this incredible meal by our favorite chef (well, Melania says he’s the best, but I’m not so sure...I mean, he’s kinda ugly compared to that hot lady chef we got). Anyway, so I’ve just finished eating when I look up from wiping some sauce off my shirt and I see none other than Joe Biden standing next to me. He’s hovering over me, like an idiot, with this cheesy grin on his face. I’m like “whoa, what the ****!” (they told me to bleep out the cussing in my report...you can decide for yourself what four-letter word I’m saying. After all it’s a free country, right Joe?). He’s still standing there, just grinning at me, you know. And he just won’t stop. And I say, “Joe, what are you doing just standing there grinning at me? Did you get lost on your way to the basement?” I thought that was a good one. But he doesn’t respond, just keeps on doing that weird grinning thing. It’s a little unsettling.

So I’m just staring at him, trying to figure out what to do with him. I mean, what would be the nice thing to do to your top political rival who’s just dropped into your house for a visit with no warning? Offer him some food? Give him a peek at my exclusive solid gold golf club collection? Let him have the pick of my staff to take him on a tour of the place? I mean, d***, he’s so sure this is gonna be his house anyway so why the h*** not? Show him what he’ll never have. D***, this censoring thing is so not fun. It’s terrible. It’s completely unconstitutional. This must be what it’s like to work for Facebook, right? Just go in there and delete everything you don’t like? And then while you’re at it, replace it with something fake that sounds nice or maybe horrible depending on who or what you’re talking about. Man. So sad!

Alright, anyway, back to my story. This is the good part now. This is when it starts to get really incredible, okay?

So I’m looking at Joe and wondering what to do and I look over at Melania and suddenly she’s all doing that staring and grinning thing too! “Melania!” I say. “What’s going on here?” And of course she doesn’t reply. Just keeps staring. And then I look at the agents over in the corner, and they’re looking at me all weird grin and stuff. I’m like, what the h*** has gotten into everyone tonight?

Well, you can probably guess what happened next, but I still have to write it out here, so tough. But yeah, can you guess who I saw next? I mean, who else walks into my dining room and comes to stand right next to Joe Biden, other than Obama himself. And now Obama is doing that crazy staring and grinning at me thing. I mean, is this for real? And then, you can probably guess what happened next, but what do you know, Hillary herself walks in the door! And then like three others from the Far Left Libs come in after her. I mean, what is this s***? Are they totally ganging up on me right now? Trying to scare me out of the White House before my time? People just can’t do that.

But believe it or not, that’s not even the worst thing that happened.

I look over at Melania again and say, “Melania, you gotta help me here. You’re on my side, remember?” And I won’t ever forget what happened next because it’s practically burned into my brain as one of the top ten, no top five, most terrifying things to ever happen to me. Maybe even top three.

Melania opens her grinning mouth even wider and suddenly her teeth are all black and disgusting and her eyes and her cheeks sink in to the bone like an old lady and her hair starts falling out and she literally turns into a zombie, right in front of my eyes. I am not kidding here.

Then I take a closer look at Biden and the same thing’s happening to him. Sunken face, black teeth, bald head, the whole shebang. Same thing with Obama and Hillary and Pelosi and the other Dems. Surprisingly they don’t look as bad as Melania does right now. H*** that’s gonna give me nightmares for weeks.

And then they all start to move toward me with terrible zombie faces and grunts like in the movies. I’m seriously thinking, did I just fall into a zombie movie or something?

I look around frantically for Barron but I don’t see him so he must’ve decided to get out of there while he could. Smart boy. So I do the next best thing I can think of and grab my phone and dial up Don Jr. He’s so good at talking he can even talk circles around me and that’s saying something. He’ll be able to think up a way to sweet talk these zombie-fied people into being normal humans again. It’s really in their best interest to get human again. Why would anyone choose to become a zombie? It just doesn’t make sense.

So Don Jr answers his phone and I say, “Don! Son! You gotta come over here right now!” At first I don’t hear anything and then he says, “You okay, Dad?” And I say, “Not really, there’s a bunch of creepy zombie creatures stalking me in the dining room! And Melania’s one of them!”

“Dad?” he asks again and I don’t know what the h*** he’s doing, probably in the middle of making some speech like he’s so good at doing, but there is a time for making great speeches and there is a time for coming to your father’s rescue, am I right?

Hillary is reaching her arms out and trying to step over Joe to get to me and one of her eyeballs is hanging out of the socket--and I’m telling you, if I weren’t so scared out of my mind right now, I’d be laughing my head off at these Left Wing Libs, they look so comical with their big gaping jaws and ugly decomposing faces and arms swinging back and forth, it really suits them. But I’m so scared I don’t think about that, all I’m thinking is getting out of that s***hole as fast as I can, so I jump back a few steps to the other side of the table and yell into the phone. “Son! I need you to come over to the White House stat and get these Radical Leftists back in line! Do you hear me?”

Then I hear him say something to someone else that sounds like, “It’s just Dad having another bad trip.” But I’m not on a trip! I’m right here at home and I need help here before I get eaten to shreds! “Donny!” I shout louder, but then what do you know, he just hangs up on me! He actually leaves his poor father in a lurch. What is this world coming to?

Then I call Eric, and he doesn’t even answer. Why don’t you get the h*** off Twitter, Eric! I mean, what does a father have to do to get his son’s attention? I wonder if I should call up Ivanka but I’m terrified that she’ll turn into a horrifically ugly zombie like Melania. I don’t think I could handle both of them letting themselves go like that.

So I call one of my lawyers and the second he answers I yell at him, “Get over here right away and I’ll double your fee if you promise to get rid of the zombies for me! No I’ll triple it!” And the moron, he says, “Are you okay, Mr. President? Should I call your psychiatrist?” And I say, “Of course not, you idiot! I’m about to get eaten by my wife! Call the military or NASA or somebody! Call Putin! Or one of the other world leaders at the UN! I think we’re being taken over by body-snatching aliens that look like zombies that used to be Melania and the entire Radical Left!”

By this time I’m forced to run to get away from the zombies. I have no clue if they’re really aliens, but I wouldn’t put it past them. I’m making my way to the door, but suddenly Pelosi jumps out of nowhere and grabs at me with an evil chuckle. I’m so shocked that I just drop my phone but I can’t bend down to pick it up because she’s looking like she’d like to take a bite right out of my neck. So I just hope my lawyer got the message and make a mad dash out of the dining room. I start running like crazy down the hall, but when I look back the whole horde of zombies is right behind me and Melania’s at the very front. It’s like they have superhuman speed now, which kinda makes sense because they’re not human anymore. They must be superhuman. Or supernaturals of some kind. Most likely aliens. Aliens always have some sort of supernatural power or strength. Now why did they evolve far enough to get super speed and we humans here on our great planet with all our incredible technology can’t even find a solution to world peace? Or famine, or bring born with bad teeth? It’s just not right.

So anyway, by now I’m thinking I must be having some kind of horrible dream. It was probably the lobster I ate. I think I heard them saying it came from some strange place in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and you know, the water’s so cold there and it’s kind of near China too, so no wonder it did strange things to my head. I don’t know, at least that’s what I’m hoping. A bad nightmare would be much preferable to actually being invaded by zombie aliens. But I definitely wouldn’t put it past them to take advantage of this time of political turmoil in our country and quietly invade us, with the help of the Left Wing Radicals, of course.

So I’m running and I’m running and I turn down another hallway and what do I see but a whole group of illegal immigrants charging down the hall toward me. See, this is what happens when we don’t secure our borders! And they’re all zombies too. And they’re holding up ridiculous signs that say stuff like “DJT is a bad, no-good president” and “Trump is the worst golf player of all time” and “Donald J. Trump is a terrible wall-builder” and “Melania is an alien.”

What have I been saying about Fake News? No matter what you do or say, they give you bad press. This is all of that stuff I’ve been speaking out against, coming to life, right here, center of the White House of all places. Even this great place of residence is not safe from corruption. You know, after I finish writing up this report I’m going to make a copy of it and bring it up in my next cabinet meeting. I’ll probably talk to them about letting me include it in my next campaign speech. Definitely in the State of the Union. It’ll be phenomenal. Really wake our country up. Make us great again.

So back to my story, I feel like I’ve been running for hours, just...hours, you know? In circles around the White House, down every hallway and back again, ten times in a row, twenty times. I think I have the layout of the building memorized down to every corner by now. And these zombie aliens, they just won’t stop chasing me. Almost caught me a few times, but I outwitted them. Had to. I mean, I’m not just gonna die right here in my own home, okay? That’s not American.

I keep looking out the windows for the sun to come up and wake me from this horrible dream, but it’s still dark. For hours and hours, right? Then, the most amazing thing happens. Pence must’ve been praying for me or something, ’cause this bright golden door appears in the hallway in front of me, just brighter than the sun, blinding white light all around it. It’s fantastic. First thing I think is, I’m finally saved! I totally beat those left wing zombies. Second thing I think is, I wonder if they have golf courses in heaven. But I don’t have time to think about that for long.

The door starts opening as I’m running toward it, so I muster up my strength and I launch myself head first through that door. Last thing I remember is soaring like an eagle through the clouds and seeing the beautiful mountains and lakes and fields below me. I feel majestic and powerful and so proud of my country right now. This is what it feels like to live in our great country.

And then suddenly I feel a massive punch to my stomach and I’m tumbling down down down through the air until I open my eyes and see Melania standing over me, with a mostly normal face, thank God. She tells me I ate something bad for dinner, but I’m still keeping my eyes open for suspicious looking liberals. I’m telling you, never trust a grinning Democrat.

Alright, this is over and out from your President. I promise you this is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God. (I’m putting my hand on a Bible as I say this. I am not making this up.)

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** I apologize if this causes offense in any way; it is meant to be nothing more than a lighthearted parody for comedic purposes. **

there’s nothing like Googling DJT and seeing some graph you never knew existed.

when DJT views this graph he sees green and curves and something about an index? an average? is the man who invented this named jones? some kind of market summary but i don’t see shopping!

click. highlight text. delete.

magic mushrooms are something my lovers have taken for ages. why take them? you take them so you can see the world in color. my lover looked at her hands and saw the rainbow. she said it deepens your perception, in a good way. i know what ‘good’ means, anyway. that’s why i put it there in italics, like this jones intellectual who beat my name in Google!

back to the green in the graph, it all looks rather good. perhaps the spiky points in this graph means that things are good? shopping is good! is america good?

i can’t see the rainbow in my hands that my lover was talking about, but i do see white. is this good?

of course it is!

wait! is my lover trying to fool me? or does she know i can’t rise like this jones?

click. highlight text. delete.

let’s make this a tweet.

something good. something with some color, a rainbow that will defeat jones and make my lovers see only what they want to see in me! and america, of course. because that would be good.

HR ONE: God, you made me as You intended. Wow. Thank You for the perception of colors I see.. I feel devotion on steroids.

HR FIVE: I must get to the Native American reservations. They will give me insight.

HR TWELVE: Praise to God, The Great Spirit.

If President Trump "tripped," It would be with caution. He is an intelligent man who may not need what others do to get a spiritual enlightening.

I'm only talking on because I didn't meet the word count for the challenge.

If you want to "trip," know the source, the safety. Do not be a guinie pig.