While cleaning out my old wardrobe in the spare room, the
one that is modeled after a blue British police box from the 60’s, at a mirror
at the back where I park my DeLorean, I came upon a nineteenth century theme
park car with brass nobs and mechanical tumblers labeled with things like “WWII
Air Raid” and “Twenty billion AD.” One knob was labeled, ‘You don’t want to go
there.’
A step through brought me to an odd place. I found myself in
a courtyard. Everything was made of sleek, curved lines like a 1950’s idea of
what the future should look like if the 1950’s had a clue. There was a statue,
Olympic in scale, orange in hue. The head was in the clouds. Or maybe that was
his hair. Cradled in his left arm was a ledger book from the Cayman Islands. In
his right he held a sword, a shield, a trident, a quadradent, look it up,
losers, a sextant, a big bag of money, and Ivanka. A plaque read, ‘Donald J.
Trump, 45th President of the United States. First Emperor of
Trumplandia, Inc. Look upon me and despair!’
I was in a holy place. A sacred place. A financially viable
place despite its many bankruptcies. Inside, after paying my entrance fee of
ten Trumpbucks, no refunds, copyright pending, I first saw the Hall of Tweets.
Also known as the Presidential Research Liberry. Swift Timex Sinclair thinking
machines of the future let me instantly scan the bigly store of knowledge.
Beautiful knowledge. Wonderful knowledge. You don’t get knowledge like this
anymore. Or at all. From his earlier, primitive phase, to his kaon mode, to his
crude attempts at palindromes, to full John McCain. Everything you ever wanted
to know but were too intelligent to understand. Tweets are timestamped and
cross indexed to monologues of Stephen Colbert for context.
Next I came to the game show exhibit entitled, ‘Who wants to
be a Covfefe?’ It was next to the ‘Russian Brainwash Booth’ and across from
the, ‘It’s my World, after all,’ ride. What’s this, what’s this? It’s the
‘Nightmare before Ramadan’ ride! Thrill to the antics of Jihadi Jack and his
lovable village of misfit murderers. I won’t say how it ends, but it does
involve a visit to the Fission King! And talk about Asian fusion! Anyone know
where Asia is/was?
Next is the ‘Hall of Science Denial,’ followed by the
‘Dunking for Diplomats’ attraction and the ‘Grab the P*ssy and Run’ interactive
fun floor. Be sure to take time out for a quick round of mini golf at the Mar a
Lago Bed, Breakfast, and State Secrets resort conveniently located over the old
kitten and orphans shelter. Where are those entitled snowflakes now?
Oh, I almost forgot! Be sure to try your hand at the
‘Impeach this!’ arcade game. Try your luck with three chances to make a case
against the Dapper Don. Many have tried. Most were fired before a special
prosecutor could be appointed. Some did themselves in through illegal leaks and
foreign entanglements. Stop indicting yourself!
So be sure to make yourself great again at the President
Donald J. Trump Library, Theme Park, and LLC!
Quick. Back to the TARDIS!
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