THE HUGEST!

Enter at Your Own Risk!!

Interior Oval Office, Daylight…

Donald Trump is slumped behind the Resolution desk. He has just signed the last of the day’s 666 Executive Orders and sent the signing pens to The Trump Organization to be gold-plated, numbered, and sold in a limited series.
The President swivels and sightlessly surveys the South Lawn as he mindlessly masticates the lukewarm remains of a Big Mac with extra cheesy cheese. Sighing, he plaintively asks his Jester, Stephen Miller:

“Is that all there is, fool?”

Sudden new camera angle—
From the far edge of The South Lawn, the camera zooms past the President’s helicopter, quickly traverses the long green expanse and stops just outside the Oval Office window. Behind the bullet proof glass we see the familiar sagging orange face… What does the President hear, what does he see?

-Cut to six sweaty, muscular men, clad only in black leather chaps and wearing yellow hard-hats with Cyrillic writing. The chaps bear the Presidential seal—but the eagle has become a performing circus seal clutching a Big Mac in its flippers. The seal is being lashed by a severe looking woman in a designer Gaucho outfit…
As the men dance, and the whip cracks, the song “YMCA” pulses insistently in the back-ground.

The image and music fade as we once again see the President’s face and hear his thoughts in a voice-over…

“…Huge—why couldn’t it be huge!? Why couldn’t I be HUGE. NO, no, nix that—I AM huge— There are people who say: Mr. President, What about Mt. Rushmore-why not put your face up there? Why not change the name to Mt. Trump? I could executively order it— I know Google Maps would be on board… They also say that soon a human face could be projected onto the surface of the moon. My face? Why not? But not Elon’s!... oh, sure he’s huge--but I’m HUGER… and that snotty little brat of his—who knows what germs he brought in here!? Elon, Elon, Elon, Elon! The fake news and the rubes never stop talking and writing about him…blah, blah, blah… Yeah, he funded my campaign, so now thinks he owns me—but he doesn’t… Soon he’ll see—soon the Whole World will see!…

…Greenland!…pathetic Eskimonos, or whatever shithole kind of people live there…need the minerals and the naturally occurring vitamins to supplement my stockpiles… Where to put my golf course, my hotels? Remember what Dad always said, “Location, location, location!”
And Gaza… The Trump Gaza Hilton, The Trump Gaza Invitational, Spectacular Mediterranean Views!...
Those loser Palesterians, or whatever the hell they’re called…Ship them out of there… Where? Staten Island, The Meadowlands? No, Death Valley!!—they’re used to the heat.. People tell me, “Mr. President, those Palestrinos don’t want to go.” Who gives a shit! Maybe the the 82^nd Airborne will convince them… text to Hegseth to get them ready…
The Ukranials?—no problemo… First they fork over their rare earths (send note to Bureau of Fracking, What’s so fucking RARE about their earth, I’d like to know?! We’ve got plenty of patriotic American earth right here—I saw some right on the South Lawn)… Anyway, I promise the Ukies some missiles and a billion Zlotys or whatever funny money they use—then, as soon I get their mineral rights—April Fool! Between Vladie and me, the Ukos will wind up with Bubkis—and they’ll be glad to get even that! What can Zelensky do about it? Nada—not damn thing… After I meet with Vladie and Prince Salman in Riyadh, Zelensky’s puny ass is gone!
I wonder—using the army to get rid of the Palasteenians— should I worry about the generals? I’m so tired of their fucking whining about everything—Why can’t I have the kind of generals Hitler had?!
Can’t say this out loud, yet-- But Elon (he’s got some huge cohones on him, but not huger than me)—is coming pretty close. I had that Olympic-class tush-kisser, Vance, meeting with that political party over there… People say they’re Nazi’s, so what?! I’m sure there were some good people on both sides in World War Two, right?
Maybe Hitler had some faults but still, you gotta admit he was one tough Kraut, maybe even tougher than Vladie! I can tell you this—Adolph knew how to run a country— Rikestag not cooperating? Burn it down and blame the radical liberals… Judges giving you a hard time—get the Proud Shirts to call their houses in the middle of the night. I’m fed up with all these Federal Judges and their radical ideologicalist rulings. Let’s see how much ruling they can do from a cell on Guantanamo….
Note to Joint Chiefs: discuss feesibility of taking over Cuba (maybe invade from Panama?)--use most of the island as an open-air detention camp for fake news reporters and transexualites…. But keep Havana for Trump hotels and casinos…
Didn’t they once have casinos there?
Pain-in-butt department…I should probably do another Prayer Breakfast— wrap myself in the flag, thump the bible a couple of times, maybe sign a few copies of it for the crowd— I have to say, it pisses me off that I still need to worry about these evangelicals… Do I really need their votes anymore? Maybe not—hopefully won’t need anybody’s vote anymore if— Well-have to see what The Supreme Court does… Of course I wouldn’t tell this to those sad little losers in their faggoty black robes—but I got the idea of taking over the whole government from them… FULL IMMUNITY, BABY!

Movement, voices in the room… Trump swivels around—The room is filling with reporters for the first of the President’s twice-daily press conferences.
As the reporters gather around his desk and turn on their mics, Trump says to himself, “Look at them, pathetic, sad losers, asking their fucking rude questions…
People say I should just ban them all…but then what who would talk to me? He sighs wistfully and thinks to himself: “I miss my rallies, those HUGE crowds—easily a hundred times bigger than the fake news reported… the ADORATION, the LOVE…
Maybe I’ll wait a couple of weeks, let Elon take all the shit for firing everybody, then toss him overboard… Then it’s AIR FORCE ONE, baby!… Me and those hot stewardesses, my airborne putting green and that scrumptious 24/7 McMuffin buffet. AND then- the crowds, MY crowds, waiting for ME, For ME!—For THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, THE HUGEST PERSON THE WORLD HAS EVER SEEN!!!