Welcome to my writing therapy and I hope your reading therapy. This blog series is a science fiction parody about a dark future, perhaps coming into sad reality due the “too painful to watch” daily show of Trump’s inability to lead during the coronavirus crisis.
If you are just joining us on the blog here’s a link to read Chapter one if you’d like to enjoy the whole science fictional parody as it builds.
When we last left a feverish President Trump it was May 2022 when he was just dumped buck naked in the thorny bushes of the Rose Garden by a mysterious giant time traveling cosmic butterfly.
TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM
CHAPTER 2 – THE WHITE HOSPITAL
Trump’s former young black personal attendant, Robert, dressed in a hospital gown and mask, helps a badly scratched Trump from the rose bushes to his shaky feet and says,”Whoa. Last time I saw you, I rushed out your bedroom to get the doc. When I came back your were gone! Where’d you go for two whole years? And why are you naked as a Jay bird on the 4th of July?”
Too distracted to answer, Trump notices every window in the White House is brightly lit and wonders, “Why the hell are all the White House lights on?”
“Put on my spare mask and gown on and I’ll show you,” says Robert handing Trump both.
“I’m immune to the virus. Don’t need this junk!” shouts Trump, drawing attention from a masked security guard.
“Sorry. President Cuomo’s executive order of 2021 makes wearing of gowns and masks law,” offers Robert grimly.
“President Cuomo!” shouts Trump. Spotting the masked White House security, pulling out his pistol, Trump angrily complies. As he struggles to gown up Trump says, “Cuomo?! Why isn’t Mike president? He dead?”
“Pence ain’t dead yet… but he’s eating himself there.”
“Eating?” says Trump.
“To appeal to your Trumpers ol’ Pence took over your brand of eating all American fast food. But that shit got way outta control. Last report Pence’s gained 130 pounds since he was ousted from the presidency.”
Trump laughs wickedly and says,”Ousted how?
“Senate unanimously impeached him for slipping ventilators to all his PAC backers. Mikey, never even made it to the elections. Your yes man was lost after you vanished.”
“What happened to Biden?”
“Gone with the Covid. Sweet guy. Don’t think he’d have been much of president in any case.”
“Virus killed old Bernie same day as Moscow Mitch. But not before he gave his spot to Cuomo. Bernie that is,” adds Robert.
“Who’d Cuomo run against?” says Trump in angry wonder.
“Jared. Epic landslide.”
“Surprise!” says Trump dryly. “So who’s Andy’s VP?”
“Chris, his –”
“Brother, I know. What a fuck fest! Totally illegal.”
“The Senate, they changed them laws to permit sibs in office,” says Robert, trying not to show his happiness.
The gowned and masked Trump stomps for the White House, “Enough. I am gonna tell Cuomo face to face to get the fuck out of my oval office.”
“America’s hero, um, President Cuomo, he don’t work from here no more.”
Trump stops dead in his tracks and spins to ask, “What? Why?!”
“President Cuomo, you see, he made the White House into a coronavirus hospital. We call it the White Hospital now. I still work here. Trained nurse now on the front line,” says Robert proudly
“So where do I find the Cuomo brothers’ HQ?”
“You ain’t gonna like what I gotta tell you, sir,” says Robert kicking at the poorly mowed White House lawn.
“Stop fucking around and give it to me,” says Trump grabbing Robert by his hospital gown.
“The Cuomos brother, you see theyt work from the repossessed Trump Tower.”
“After all the lawsuits for your — ahem — handling of the virus, well, it was your baby Ivanka’s only option,” says Robert warily.
“How’s Ivanka?!” asks Trump and then adds as an afterthought, “And the rest of my kids… and Melania?”
“Brace yourself… condolences,” says Robert hanging his head. “All dead except your boy, Barron.
“All my kids except Barron dead! My wife are dead?! But they were all in great health. The greatest.” says Trump with surprisingly little emotion.
“Wicked virus keeps mutating. Now it’s letting the Boomers alone. Been killing mostly peeps age 30 to 50 now. Eric, well, he went just last week. But not of the virus.”
“Eric bowed out on a hunting trip trying to extinct the last Rhino. Rhino got him. So sorry, sir,” says Robert gently patting Trump and the back.
“Don’t be,” says Trump waving off Robert’s sympathy.
“Huh? I know you’re tough, sir. But that’s cold.”
“Not cold. It’s fine,” says Trump with a maniacal grin.
“Ha. This is all just a fever dream.” says Trump with a delerious chuckle.
“Wow. Love that shit. But sadly this is all too real, Donald, I mean, sir.”
“Believe what you want. I’m outta here,” Trump storms off for the White House
“Where you goin’, sir?” says a bewildered Robert.
“Back to my bedroom to wake the fuck up!”
Robert shrugs and lets Trump storm off to the White House to learn for himself.
END CHAPTER 2