CHAPTER ONE – WEEK TWO
White House Waiting Room – 9:30PM Eastern Standard Time
“They’re ready for you, Mr. President,” the Chief of Staff said.
“Did you hear something?” President Drumpf asked his Secretary of Defense as they stood in the waiting room going over the president’s speech.
“I don’t think so, Mr. President,” Secretary of Defense Ralphie Thaddeus Cruise said, hoping that it was the right answer. Wrong answers had caused the previous Secretary of Defense to be fired three days into the new administration.
“Mr. President?” Don Kaylic said again. “It’s time for your speech.”
“There it is again,” President Drumpf said, looking around the waiting room. He spotted an almost invisible man near the door. “Oh, it’s you Don,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s pretty hard to remember you even exist sometimes.”
“Yes, Sir,” his Chief of Staff replied, blending back into the wallpaper.
“Well, let’s get this over with,” Drumpf grunted.
The 45th President of the United States of America and Greatest Nation On Planet Earth and Maybe the Galaxy led the Secretary of Defense from the waiting room into the hallway. They walked for almost a minute in silence until President Drumpf put his hand on Cruise’s arm, bringing the man to a stop.
“I’m supposed to thank you, Ralphie,” Drumpf said in his most presidential voice. “But we all know it was me who solved this important problem. I mean, you did help a little bit, but not as much as I did. So it really should be you thanking me.”
The longing desire in the SecDef’s eyes made the president’s smile widen into a feral grin.
“You know how to thank me, Ralphie,” President Drumpf said, pushing down on the Defense Secretary’s shoulder until the man was on his knees.
Cruise greedily leaned forward and began to unbutton the president’s pants, but suddenly recoiled from the vicious open-handed slap that stung his semi-malleable skin and made his ears ring. He looked at the leader of the entire world, his waxy face and dead eyes turned up just in case the president decided to spit on him.
“Not yet,” Drumpf said crossly. “Not until I give you permission.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” Cruise replied, barely able to contain his need to show the man in front of him just how thankful he could be.
“Okay, Ralphie,” Drumpf rumbled, grabbing the slick yet somehow rock-hard hair plastered to his Defense Secretary’s skull. “Show America how much you love freedom,” he whispered as he guided the man’s head toward his mighty presidential sword.
Cruise kept his eyes open and face upturned as he wrapped his lips around the president’s offering, his entire body trembling harder than when he’d taken communion as a boy at his father’s church, St. Apocalyptic Vision. He watched his president practice the upcoming speech as he bobbed back and forth with increasing speed, his eyes now glazed over in anticipation of the glory he was about to receive. Cruise swallowed an entire load of freedom, careful to not spill a drop in case the rumors were true, that the presidential elixir was the key to eternal life–or at least a long life of good health.
However, part of him wanted to gag just enough for a small amount to drip from his mouth and down his chin. Cruise knew President Drumpf would see it as a sign that no mortal could take his entire blessing in one gulp, which would boost his ego even more during the speech—maybe even lasting through the meeting with Russia’s President Pubin. Another part of him wanted the president to see him waste a precious drop of liquid power and become enraged, which would lead to a divinely rough punishment that would keep the Secretary of Defense in a state of rapture for at least forty-eight hours.
He decided that what President Drumpf so generously gave him was too prized to be wasted and let it slide down his throat, allowing himself a moment of weakness as he groaned then kissed the tip of the sword before finally lowering his eyes and helping Drumpf zip up his dress slacks. The President glared at him from above until the top button was hooked and his belt secured. Drumpf patted Cruise on the head and made a fist, holding it out in front of the kneeling man’s face.
“Kiss the ring, bitch,” the President commanded.
Cruise obeyed, leaning forward again to kiss the massive ring that spanned three fingers. He marveled at the intricate gold and diamond work done by a master jeweler to somehow create a United States in the shape of a D. He nearly shuddered in orgasmic pleasure at the taste of gold and jewels in his mouth, though it was nowhere near the heavenly experience of personally serving his president. Drumpf laughed and turned, leaving the Defense Secretary on his knees watching the most powerful man in the universe walk away with a confident smile and a light zing in his step.
Ronald K. Drumpf Briefing Room – 9:40PM
“Hello, America,” President Drumpf said, his voice booming across the briefing room. “And the rest of the world. When I was a candidate, I told everyone how great of a president I would be. And I was right, I am a great president. I always keep my promises. It’s how I’ve become a powerful, wealthy businessman. It’s how I’ve become the greatest president in history… and I’ve only been in office for two weeks!
“But as great as you all know I am, I’m here tonight to tell you that everyone was wrong about me. I’m not great. I’m the greatest. You can quote me on that. Everyone thought I was good, powerful even. Then I won the election and became great. But as I said, now I’m the greatest leader there ever was, and I doubt there will ever be a leader as great as me in the future. I’m just that great.
“Tonight, I’m here to tell you that the greatest threat the world has ever known—beyond that weird old woman I beat in the election, who was so not-great that I can’t even remember her name—has been completely eradicated. Basically, I’ve accomplished in two weeks more than the previous sixteen years of ineffective presidents—all weak, girly men by the way—ever dreamed of doing. There’s no question I’m just that good.
“It is with a lot of pride and clapping myself on the back that I am able to announce that ISIS has been defeated.”
The entire press corp went wild with yelling, screaming in celebration, and lots of whispering for those who were on the President’s bad side and might get tossed into a dungeon cell. Ben Bluewald had already disappeared, and Randison Hooper was executed ten minutes after the inauguration. President Drumpf gave the mob a few minutes of excited discussion and many shouts of adoration to their president before holding up his giant, manly hands to let everyone know it was time to listen again.
“While I would like to thank the brave men and one or two women of the armed forces for helping out a little bit, just enough to get a mention, it is me I would like to thank for single-handedly destroying democracy’s greatest threat. Because of me showing up and kicking ISIS’ ass so very, very hard, they have been completely and thoroughly eliminated. Because of me, we’ve won. Just like I promised we would win if you elected me. And now that I’m your greatest president ever, the winning is just beginning. Just wait until you see how much winning we’re going to do now that the entire world sees how great we are, how powerful we are, and how much ass we kick.
“In fact, I did such a great job that you can all thank me for the next century. Make sure when you write about me in history books that my name is the first president mentioned, the last president mentioned, and that I’m mentioned more often than all the other not-as-great presidents combined. I want my name to always be in bold letters, and I’ve just signed a new bill into law that guarantees that this will always happen.
“Again, thank me very, very much for being so great and powerful and able to win so handily and easily. I’ll now take a few of your questions.”
The room erupted once again as every reporter present screamed for the President’s attention. Drumpf looked around the room and chose the attractive woman in the front row with really large breasts.
“Mr. President!” she said, her face flushing red at being chosen by the powerful man at the podium. “Mr. President, Shae Lewis from the Tampa Times. Sir, how exactly did you defeat ISIS?”
Drumpf glared at the attractive but uppity woman with extremely fabulous breasts and nodded to his Secret Service detail, muttering just loud enough for the microphones to pick up the words “—stinky fish out of my press conference.” The journalists parted quickly as a dozen Secret Service agents descended on the woman reporter, punching, kicking, and slapping her until she was bloody and unconscious. The President spent the entire time joking to everyone how the dumb woman was likely a lamestream media liberal and that her husband had called a few minutes earlier to demand she get home to make him some dinner. Two agents grabbed the unconscious woman’s feet and dragged her from the room, her head bouncing over the threshold as well as several thick cables that led to the television cameras.
“Mr. President!” came a man’s shout. “Mr. President, Rick Freedom from Beetbard.com. Mr. President, and that’s a stellar suit you’re wearing tonight, by the way, but how exactly did you defeat ISIS?”
“Great question, Rick,” President Drumpf said with a grin and a nod of his head. “Golf this Saturday? Great, see you on the links. Now, to answer your question, I’ll not only tell you how I defeated ISIS, but we also have video of the caliphate’s collapse and the total surrender of all ISIS fighters across the world.
“First, as you know, I’m really, really strong and powerful. Second, you know that I’m going to kick the ass of anyone who even dares question how strong and powerful I am. Third, these sissies from ISIS trembled in their turbans when they heard that President of the United States of America Ronald K. Drumpf was coming to personally kick their asses.
“These girls were scared. I mean, they were so very, very scared that they were going to have to fight me that they rounded up all of their leadership, including the caliph himself, and delivered them to me at the Drumpf Dubai Towers where I have a penthouse suite because I’m rich and because those Doobies love me. I can’t state how very, very much they really do love me.
“Anyway, when these dirty terrorists were brought in, I immediately walked up to Mohammad M. Mohammad—that’s their leader if you didn’t know—and ripped off his bedsheet or whatever that robe thing they wear is called. I then grabbed his hairy, bearded chin with one hand while removing my pants with the other so he and his terrorist pals could get a good look at the most powerful weapon in the world. It’s maybe also the largest weapon in the world. I mean, some guys are probably, maybe bigger, but that’s their job because they are porn stars and they’ve all been surgically enhanced. But not me, of course. I’m all natural, which makes it even better that I’m as powerful as I really am.
“So this brown, stinking, bearded, ugly terrorist leader, this caliphate, he starts bawling like a little baby. Like a little baby girl, just like little baby Franco Lubio did during the primaries before I felt sorry for him and made him Secretary of State. And I think at first that this loser terrorist bad guy is begging me to not hurt him, because you know, I’m so big and powerful and he knows it. I can see it in his beady little jihadi eyes that he’s got the fear of Allah in him, which is nothing compared to the fear of Christian God I was about to put into him. He knows I’m in command and I’m strong and powerful, and he knows what’s coming.
“I let him beg and sob like the little girl he is for a couple of minutes, laughing at him and his friends, until I realize he’s not begging for me to not hurt him. This little crybaby, this terrorist wanna-be tough guy, she’s doing this begging-praying thing to her brown God to send her to paradise by letting me show her just how big and strong of a man I am. It was really, really sad, you know? To see such a supposedly powerful and strong and scary man crying like a little girl. I’ve made a lot of girls cry, but none like this little infant girl who bawled and mewled and cried his little baby terrorist eyes out as he’s shivering in fear while naked and unable to stop staring down at his doom. Or his salvation, according to my beautiful wife who will tell you that I’m just as big as I say I am.
“I let this little baby Arab cry a little more, you know, because it’s funny and it makes me feel good to see such a violent loser get what’s coming to him. Literally. But I finally felt bad for him, because I have a thing called compassion, you know? And I felt bad and decided to get it over with so we could get on with freedom.
“I roughly bent him over the interrogation table and forcefully showed him just how deep and hard democracy can go. He bucked and thrashed like a wild donkey in Tijuana, but my huge, powerful, manly hands held him by his disgusting, greasy beard as I repeatedly drove the message home that his little sorority was finished. It was so great. I made all his top guys watch, by the way.
“Within seconds they were all begging to know what freedom felt like. So I gave them their wish. I tossed that sissy little caliph aside as if he were a pair of dirty women’s panties and proceeded to pound the prophet’s hate out of their hearts and bodies, then I filled each and every one of them with wholesome, creamy, American ideals. Democracy in action folks. All you have to do is show someone what freedom feels and tastes like and they just lap it up like a starving dog.”
“Let me tell you something. Before the day was over, hell, before two hours had passed, all ISIS fighters around the world gave up and as you all saw on the news, they flooded American embassies in every single country, all of ‘em demanding to be given a taste of freedom. I wanted to convert each and every one of them, but as great as I am, I’m only one man. A very big, powerful, smart, wealthy, manly man. So I ordered the Secretary of Defense Cruise and Secretary of State Lubio to draft a second army of volunteers—freedom-loving American men who voted for me and want nothing more than to spread American glory and democracy across the entire planet.
“Once they heard that their great President had put in a call to arms, these brave men signed up faster than we could process them. But we got it done because as President, I demand the best, and I get it. No one wants to disappoint a great man like me. We shipped these brave, sometimes overweight but patriotic men all over the world to where they were needed so they could begin converting our enemies while I did great presidential work like make America even greater than it already is.
“And I can tell you that it only took less than two days for our half-million freedom-loving patriot men and boys to complete their task… some of them multiple times. A small number of them lost their lives to diabetes or cardiac arrest during the victorious fight, but they were weak and old and other bad things that a supremely healthy and almost godlike human being such as myself never has to worry about. They didn’t sacrifice themselves in vain. All two million ISIS fighters have been rounded up and are en route to their new home. While on the way, I helped them secure a loan from the World Bank, backed by Drumpf Capital’s underwriters and guaranteed by the United States Treasury.
“These ex-terrorists are going to use that money to buy razors and real western clothing and get haircuts, not to mention buy bibles. Christian bibles, not that gobbledeegook nonsense book they used to read. But the real goal of that loan is to help them open up a night club on the beaches of Guantanamo. Of course these idiots wanted to call it something stupid like Allah’s Paradise but I said no way, call it something great and proper that people will remember like Drumpf’s Hot Oil Drilling or something great like that. Which of course they all agreed to because the name I suggested is much, much greater and far more powerful and very, very good.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Drumpf said to his mesmerized crowd, some who had been so enraptured that they had forgotten to write any of his words down. “Thank you for coming, though like I said, you should be thanking me because I’m such a great, great winner. Remember, this is just the first win of many wins, and we’re going to keep winning and winning to the point that no one will ever win and they’ll give up, which means we’ll win everything. Just like I promised on the campaign trail.”
President Drumpf looked around the room at the glazed eyes and joyous, lustful stares of the reporters. He smiled and held up one of his large, manly hands.
“No more questions. I have to leave and go spread the seed of democracy to this President Pubin guy over in Russia. It’s very cold over there, so I can understand why he’s so angry. But once I’m done with him, he’ll be toasty and warm, full of democracy. In fact, I’m so great that I guarantee he’s going to be so impressed that he’ll be begging for the Drumpf brand of freedom within seconds. Good day.”
The room exploded in a furor of tweets, posts, blog entries, and phone calls to editors. There was nearly a fist fight as DNN hogged up all the available wifi and satellite bandwidth to make sure they got their story broadcast before anyone else. No one complained after another two dozen Secret Service agents waded into the fray and began to remind everyone that Drumpf News Network was, by law that had passed on day two of the new administration, guaranteed to scoop every news story involving the president.
TO BE CONTINUED!