Since April 2020 I’ve been developing TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM, hosted temporarily here on my meditation blog, as a warts and all work-in-progress. Warning violent content and explicit language ahead. Whadya expect from a Trump nightmare were still trapped in?
And speaking of nightmares: Trump is about to have a Black Lives Matter nightmare, which of course bears very little similarity to reality.
Chapter 6 – Trump’s Worst Nightmare
Meanwhile, one timeline away, in July of 2020, an alternate universe’s Trump has been struck with a deadly case of Coronavirus and is lost in a delusional series of fever dreams. Kinda like our own Trump does with his eyes wide open.
Dr. Faucci makes a deep incision in Trump’s throat. Blood trickles, crossing the orange tan line where Trump’s bloated chest meets his saggy neck.
Faucci says, “OK, I’ve successfully made the incision to avoid the President’s damaged throat tissue, caused by drinking bleach. Insert the ventilator tube, Dr. Edwards of you will.”
Dr. Edwards takes over the operation and Faucci heads for the door, wiping sweat from his furrowed brow.
Ivanka, sporting the latest Paris fashion Covid mask, rises to her feet along with the mask wearing Jared when Dr. Faucci exits the surgery room. She asks nervously, “Doctor Faucci, is Daddy going to be OK?”
Dr. Faucci sighs deeply and wipes sweat from his forehead, “A tracheotomy is a relatively easy procedure. My real concern is that your father hid his catching virus for too long. And, well, the bleach.”
“That’s no answer, Tony!” blurts Jared, his normally high pitched feeble voice nearly inaudible beneath his red, white and blue mask.
Dr. Faucci ignores Jared and calmly addresses Ivanka, “Your father’s odds of a recovery are quite low. And even if he does ever recover, he may be in a mentally reduced to the condition of a moron —
“Reduced?” mutters Jared,
“- where he can no longer serve as president,” finishes Fauci.
Ivanka spins to pound Jared’s tiny chest.
In the adjacent operating room, dead to the real world, Trump does not stir on the operating table as Dr. Edwards carefully inserts a respirator air tube through Faucci’s tracheotomy incision. The operating room fades from view as the White House Bunker fades into view…
Nestled in the safely of his bunker beneath the White House, the real world a forgotten memory, Trump offers his best presidential poker face as his advisors wrangle with a new series of more violent BLM protests.
Larry Kudlow gasps as on the big screen an array of BLM protestors use a stolen city bus to flatten the White House fence. The angry mob charges the heavily armed Secret Service Agents.
Mark Meadows says, “Relax, Larry. Our troops learned in Portland how to put these dogs to sleep.”
“Relax? This is revolution! And we all know what happens to the player in an old regime, especially one as cruel as ours,” croaks Larry.
Trump laughs at Larry and says, “Chill, Larry. Theses walls of the vault are 6 feet thick, or something like that kinda thickness. Tremendously thick. And we have all the comforts of home here. The best champagne. The best caviar.”
On screen the Federal Troops lay down their weapons as the angry mob races past them.
“What in Holy Hell?!” shouts Trump, cracking one of TV screens with his tiny fists.
The Director of the Secretive Service, James Murray, calmly says to the shocked Trump, “Not to worry, sir. Like you just said, in your genius way, the protesters cannot possibly reach us down here.”
“Protest? You call this fucking protest.?” bellows Trump.
“Look, sir. The lowlifes have zero chance!” shouts Stephen Miller, making a Nazi salute, which he fakes into a stretch.
“Let’s get back to talking about my fantastic Mt. Rushmore monument to the greatest presidency ever! Mine! Tell me about getting head, Kayleigh.”
The men all laugh at Trump’s sexist joke, while Kayleigh does her best to hide her disgust. She rolls over a model of Mt Rushmore into the bunker conference room. “Mr. President, I’m afraid the Rushmore survey ream has determined that there is not enough structural integrity to the surrounding rock to add your incredible face.”
“I am not happy about this, Kayleigh!” grumps Trump, folding his arms across his big belly.
“It’s OK, Mr. President. We have a solution…” Kayleigh loses her train of thought as on the big screen protestors fall and die under heavy gunfire from a more resistant line of White House defense. But an endless stream bat wielding protestors take their place in the bloody battle for the White House above.
“Go on Kayleigh. Don’t worry about the losers up there. Nigger scum,” snarls Trump.
“Well I see a lot of white people with these guys,” says Kudlow.
“The losers can’t reach us. Go on, Kayleigh. Give me some head!” chuckles Trump.
Mastering her outrage Kayleigh says, “Well, it’s simple. All we have to do is re-chisel one of the four heads into your amazing image. All that remains is for you to pick who to replace with your handsome face. Who shall it be, Mr. President, Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt or Lincoln, sir?”
Trump relishes at this historic decision making moment, spinning around and around in his larger life leather chair, and finally decreeing,”Q-Anon calls me the greatest civil rights leader of all time. Lowest unemployment for Blacks ever. Well, before the Covid started killing them off like flies. So I pick to replace the head of Abraham Lincoln head with mine. My base will love it and my haters can eat shit and die.”
Meadows offers obsequiously, “Brilliant as always, sir! It’s true you have supplanted Lincoln in the hearts of the people after all!”
The gathering of white men, plus one frustrated woman in Kayleigh, give Trump a standing ovation.
For a split-second Trump is back in the real world. Trump’s heartbeat stops on the monitor. Dr. Fauci takes up shock paddles and shouts, “Clear!” and jolts Donald Trump.
Shocked back into his bunker fever dream, Trump points at the security monitor and bellows, “What?! Those rioters, they’re in my Oval office!”
Trump and his team watch helplessly as the security TV screen shows a rush of protestors of all races and creeds swarming into the Oval Office
Trump demands, “Murray, set off the self-destrust bomb and blow the fucking Antifa anarchists off the face of the earth!”
Murray pleadingly turns to Meadows, who coldly nods for him to carry out Trump’s command. “You heard the president.”
Turning to the monitors, where the Resolute Desk is being set aflame, Murray anguishes and finally croaks, “I respectfully decline to carry out your orders to blow up the protestors, sir. You have my resignation.”
Trump spins to Defense Secretary Esper and roars, “Esper, wipe out these fucking terrorists!”
“These are American citizen’s, Mr. President. They can’t reach us in here. I respectfully refuse and resign as well,”
“Where are my Portland shock and awe troops?!” shouts Miller.
“In transit to Milwaukee I believe,” answers Meadows.
“Well, get them here to DC pronto! — Seen this Tweet?” says Trump, jamming a cell phone in Miller’s sweaty face.
The gaggle white men crowd around Trump’s cell phone that reads:
“Lynch the #BunkerBaby!”
“The bastards are calling me BunkerBaby! Even after I crushed them in Lafayette Square!”
“Um, my mom taught me sticks and stones may break –”, says Robert Tulsa before he’s cut off.
“Shut the fuck up! Sergeant Cosco, escort these traitors my bunker!” shouts Trump pointing at the TV screen.
“Name’s Tulsa. Mr. President, and I am afraid Mr. Esper and Mr. Murray cannot leave as we are sealed in.”
“Look, COSCO. No one’s in the hallway!” shouts Trump pointing at the TV screen.
“But, sir, the 2 ton door operates slowly, by the time we see rioters we could be….”
“Break the seal!” demands Trump.
“– fucked.” finishes Sergeant Tulsa. “The door moves slowly. You could be killing us all.”
Trump defiantly pushes the open button and gloats, “Fuck off. You’re Black. Obviously, you’re in on this with them. You want something done right you gotta, um, something something or other.”
Miller takes charge, “Seargent, remove, Esper and Murray from my bunker or you’re up for a firing squad!”
“Pussy. I told ya. Look. It’s all clear.” gloats Trump. “You see. You’ve got nothing to fear but it something… We have nothing to fear but, ah.. Oh, fuck it!”
Gunfire erupts as mob of rioters race up the long hall for the bunker door.
“Seal the bunker! Seal the bunker!” shouts Trump.
BANG! Sergeant Tulsa falls to the marble floor, a bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
Kayliegh shouts to the mob, “Power to the people! I am not with the dictator, sexist, racist Trump anymore! I’m free! Yay!”
The laughing protestors get such a kick out of Trump’s sad reaction to Kayleigh’s betrayal they let her slip away.
An angry Black man races up to a screaming Trump and raises a bloody hatchet.
Trump begs on his knees, “Black lives matter! Praise Jesus! Black lives matter! Spare me! I’ll sign any law you want!”
Trump curls into a ball and weeps like a baby sucking his thumbs, eyes slammed shut, waiting for a death blow.
The angry black man laughs saying, “Pathetic!” He plants the axe in Trump’s throat. Exactly where the incision in the real world. Blood gushes and all goes black. Faintly, the beep of a life monitor gets louder and Trump’s eyes flicker open.
Thrilled to be back in the real world where he is on life support, Trump cracks open his eyes to see his loyal personal Black attendant Robert reading the newspaper beside his hospital bed. Trump’s bloodshot feverish eyes close.
We see Robert’s Washington Post’s headline reads:
PRESIDENT CONTRACTS CORONA VIRUS. LIFE HANGS BY A THREAD!
To be continued in Chapter 7 – Weekend at Trumpies
Special thanks to my wife Elizabeth for playing Kayleigh and Ivanka.
As always my handy disclaimer that this is of course a work of pure fiction about an alternate universe. It is in no way a true reflection of the kind and compassionate real-life Donald Trump, and his charming GOP enablers, or for that matter, the supposed good guys in this dark comedic tale.
Phew. It takes months to make these audio recordings. Donate at the link below to keep my one of a kind quantum space time meditational auditory entertainment and enlightening content flowing.
Greetings from the road in Denver. My wife Elizabeth and I, plus our rescue dog, are on the homestretch of a love-packed race across America to reconnect with friends and family before the anti-maskers and anti-vaxers, rapidly spreading the Delta variant, shut down America again. So, it seems oddly appropriate to post my rewrite of my April 2020 Chapter 4 at a break in the journey home.
TRUMP’S FEVER DREAM is set in a dark comedic alternate universe, where another Trump caught Covid about 6 months before our own Big Lie fostering leader. A stupid occurrence in our parallel reality that no one had to be psychic to predict.
This grotesque alternate Trump-iverse, just one timeline away, is set in the year 2020 and time travels to the year 2022. Curious what the hell I mean? Read chapters 1-3 to understand better my BACK TO THE FUTURE meets INCEPTION kind of mind-bending science fiction back-story, or just plow on. All chapters are written to stand alone if that’s your preference.
The Covid death toll of this even scarier reality, where we reach a civil war by chapter 12 — read that in the pull down menu above — has reached 3 million and counting. Tragically, like our reality, Trump takes no responsibility for his abysmal handling of Covid.
In fact, both Hitler-loving Trumps seem to thrive on how the virus tends to kill off more Black people, while it divides the rest of us suckers and losers, as he sees all Americans. But, that’s all about to change for alternate reality Trump in chapter 4 when Covid mutates into a zombie apocalypse.
Warning, violent explicit content ahead when many GQP heroes of this alternate universe, like Ted Cruz, Mitch McConnell, Christie Noem, Tucker Carlson, and more, go full zombie and make the dumbass mistake of attacking President Arnold Schwarzenegger.
We now join…
Chapter 4 Redux – Dancing With Spicer and Schwarzenegger
Meanwhile, one timeline away… Trump has caught Covid-19 and is trapped in a series of ever more delirious fever dreams, just as we all are on this timeline.
Trump’s Black body man, Robert Tulsa, runs back into the Presidential bedroom where President Trump has collapsed of Covid. He stops dead in his tracks shocked to see Trump strangling on a bed sheet twisted around his neck.
Robert hesitates rescuing the choking Trump. “Lord Jesus guide me on what to do,” prays Robert.
We enter his right eye, travel down Trump’s optic nerve, and enter his Adderall befuddled mind…
Trump’s twisted view of the deranged Hilary Clinton, strangling him in the White Hospital, in the Covid devastated future of 2022, where the death count has reached 3 million lost Americans, fades into the darkness of death.
Off in the distance, a small yellow speck sparkles in the distance.
Trump looks down at himself, happy to see he’s out of his paper hospital gown and spiffed up in his favorite blue power suit, complete with his clownishly long red tie. He’s surprised to see he’s wearing shinny red vinyl dancing shoes that match his hilarious orange afro.
The bouncing yellow speck grows in size to form a Marimba dancer, complete with Carmen Miranda’s famed fruit hat. The dancer rockets up to Trump, who is stunned to see the dancer is none other than Sean Spicer… in Marimba drag!
Sean sweeps Trump into a passionate dance. Trump laughs and says, “Learned a few things on Dancing With the Stars, Spicey, I see.”
“Touche!” shouts Spicer, spinning Trump like a rolly-polly punching doll.
“Enough!” growls Trump. A crowd of thousands of red hatted MAGA rally goers cheer wildly. Trump does a bow and the crowd goes absolutely ape shit. Spicer gracefully takes Trump back into the dance.
“Welcome back, sir. Oh, look who we have for dance judges!” sings Sean.
Trump notices the dance judges are none other than the nine members of the Supreme Court. Bret Kavenugh sneaks a swig of beer and flashes Trump a thumbs up. While Ruth Bader Ginsberg blows a raspberry.
Trump grouses, “Fuck this. I will not dance for the likes of Ruth Libtard Ginsberg.”
Trump struggles free himself of the dancing Spicer, but the smaller man is supernaturally strong.
“Let’s Marimba!” sings Sean. He yanks Trump by his long red tie down to his eye level and whisper sings in Trump’s ear, “You don’t understand, sir. Sing and dance or the judges will give you a death sentence.”
“Death sentence?!” says Trump.
“Afraid a lot has changed since you vanished two years ago, sir. Dance like your life depends on it. Because it does!”
Across the shinny black stage for the Fox & Friends team provide color commentary as the crowd of Trump fans continue to adore their returned king.
“Good evening, America! 5,000 plus Trump fans are here tonight at the Miami’s Hard Rock Sports Stadium to welcome back the great President Donald Trump!” says Doocy with a big silly grin to the Fox cameras.
The cheering crowd waves Trump 2024 flags and shout “Welcome back, President Trump!”
“Lots of GOP VIPs here tonight too,” adds Kilmead. The cameras point to Senator Ted Cruz, Governor Christi Noem, and the usual GQP suspects.
“Oh my God, Trump is an amazing dancer and his new hair style is revolutionary.” says Ainsley giggling about Trump’s orange afro.
“Any minute now we expect President Schwarzenegger to arrive. But here comes his Vice President Chris Christie. A word Chris?” says Ducey.
“Sure,” says Chris as he signs an autograph from a sweet old woman with a MAGA hat. “What’s your name, hon?”
“Mindy!” chirps the sweet old lady. Veep Christie signs with a flourish, collects a smooch and turns to Doocy.
“How does President Schwarzenegger feel about the mysterious return of President Trump?” says Doocy.
“Well, after President Trump was declared dead after he vanished two years ago, a lot of Trump’s unfinished work has fallen on Arnold’s big shoulders,” says Vice President Christie.
“Ha ha. Not an answer, Chris.” teases Kilmead.
“With three million dead of Covid, rumors of a new DeSantis variant that’s attacking the white community, now might be a good time for you to drop the smart-ass routine, Kill-mead.”
“Any truth to rumors of a new zombie variant?” says Ainsley batting her eyes flirtatiously.
“Zombie variant? Q shit?” chides a concerned Vice President Christie.
“Hmm. No comment,” demurs Ainsley.
“I’ll close by saying, President Schwarzenegger and I are in total agreement that my old pal Trump has a lot to answer for when it comes to the three million and counting death toll and dangerous new variant that ravaged America until President Schwarzenegger stepped in,” says Vice President Christie.
“Are you saying, Mr Vice President, that President Schwarzenegger is going to ask the DOJ investigate Trump’s handling of the pandemic?” asks Doocy, hoping for a scoop.
Without answering, Christie slowly turns away from the Fox & Friends trio and strides, whistling, for the VIP box. Mitch McConnell beckons to the VP to a saved seat between himself and a selfie taking Tucker Carlson.
“Swell. I’m stuck between the Russian turtle and and Tucker the fucker,” mutters VP Christie to himself.
Trump yelps as Sean yanks his red tie so hard that he sends Trump spinning like pinball into a giant pinball machine set. Trump — a red, white and blue blur — hits a bumper that lights up:
IMPEACHMENT FARCE – Ding, Ding, Ding!
Trump flies, screaming towards more bumpers that light up in rapid succession as he rolls into and off them.
3 MILLION DEAD OF COVID! – Bong!
WORST PRESIDENT EVER – Bing, Bing, Bong, Bong!
CHEATS ON PREGNANT WIFE WITH A PORN STAR – Dong, Ding!
TAX CHEAT – Wha-Err-Err!
BRIBE-O-RAMA – Cha-ching! Cha-chong!
RELIGIOUS FAKE – Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
BLEACH DRINKER – BOOM! BAM!- GAME OVER!
Bursting from a cloud of smoke, Trump tumbles down the giant pinball machine set and falls on his orange face to the black shinny stage floor. Trump struggles to his two left feet. All to the wild applause of red capped MAGA rally goers.
In the stands, Governor Noem says softly, “His fans still love him.”
“Schwartzengger’s in deep trouble if Trump seeks to be reinstalled.” chuckles Mitch.
Trump sees himself dancing with Sean on the Jumbotron screen, “How the fuck did I end up with a damn orange, afro?” says Trump as he tries to pull off the wig. “Damn it! This clown wig is stuck!”
“Oh, don’t worry, sir. Your new fro is gorgeous,” sings Sean.
A pipsqueak of a zombie usher, with the name tag Jerry, emerges at the top of the stands. Jerry the zombie usher hungrily eyes a burly Hell’s Angels biker and leaps upon his back. Jerry chomps the biker’s tattooed shoulder. The biker yelps and instantly transforms to a fellow zombie. Biker and usher go to bloody work making more zombies.
Clueless to the instant zombie apocalypse racing through the five thousand strong crowd. Trump bows and gloats, “Yeah! I still got it, Spicey!” shouts Trump, beaming a million watt smile in the spotlight to his Trumpies… who are rapidly turning into a zombie horde.
“Look at me! Look at me tap, tap, tap. The best tapper ever. The most super epic tap dancer who ever tapped a tune!” signs the off-key and bad dancer Trump.
In the stands, Sweet old lady Mindy is bitten and transform in the blink of a bloodshot eye into a flesh eating zombie. She hungrily eyes Vice President Chris Christie as he flees the VIP zombies. “Stay away from me, Tucker. Stay away.!” shouts the terrified Christie. The old lady leaps forty feet into the air and chomps into the screaming Veep’s fat leg.
The applauding crowd of now 90% freshly minted zombie Trumpies still have the love of Trump in their eyes.
“We love Trump! We love Trump!” says the zombie horde as one.
Sean panics and yanks Trump back into the Marimba and whisper sings, “The judges hate your tap dancing!”
“Well, I didn’t pick Brett and Neil for their good taste.”
“But the crowd… something seems terribly wrong.” .
“You worry to much, Spicer. Remember how you gave yourself an goddamn ulcer when I told you, ‘Tell the presser that my inauguration crowd was the largest ever?’” laughs Trump.
Trump and Spicey quick-turn away from the crowd an instant before a wave of biting and grotesque zombie transformations races through the audience stands behind them.
“Oh no! Look at Moscow Mitch! He’s zombie!”
“Relax. Mitch always looks like a fucking zombie,” pants Trump.
The curtains part and none other President Arnold Schwarzenegger struts onto the stage, a bevy of beauties on each arm and says warmly, “Donald, it’s so good to see you. I can’t believe what a good tap dancer you are! I’m sorry the judges don’t like it. I thought it was awesome, man.”
“So you think president now, huh?” grouses Trump.
“Oh, Donald, you’re always so funny.
Two high-fiving Trump zombies leap iknock each others arms off.
“But you weren’t born in America. How can you be president?” demands the clueless Trump.
“Because the people needed me, Donald. They needed me after your terrible presidency.”
“Well, I’m back now. Doesn’t that mean I’m president?” angles Trump.
“I’m afraid not, Donald.”
“I’m going to into the audience now, with your wonderful followers. Oh, wait… they’re all zombies.” says Arnold in shock.
Zombie Representative Jim Jordan dives for Arnold. But Arnold swings a folding chair an knocks zombie Jordan’s ugly head off and says, “Wrestle that!”
“You killed my Congressional hatchet man, you mother fucker!”
President Schwarzenegger watches in shock as his bevy of beauties are devoured by Trump zombies and says softly, “We are in great danger. Very quietly we speak.”
“What?” shouts the hard of hearing Trump.
“Quiet, you fool! They’ll hear you!”
“MAGA, MAGA, MAGA, “says a badly decaying Trump Zombie, who looks like she may have once might been South Dakota Governor Kristi Noem.
“Whoa! That you, Kristi?” asks Trump.
“Donald, no!” shouts Arnold, spinning Trump to face him as the zombie Trumpers grow hungrier and more restless.
“Relax, Terminator. These are my fans. Nothing to worry about!” chides Trump. Her biker chic biker’s outfit dripping blood, Noem stalks Trump.
“Donald, Duck!” says Arnold pulling a .357 Magnum.
“Hey! I’m no cartoon –“
“Duck you fool !” shouts Arnold shoving Trump to the floor. Bang! Governor Noem’s head explodes.
Arnold gloats, “Consider this a recall!”
“Swell. There goes my shot at Mt. Rushmore.”
“Oh, you’re going to take the place of Lincoln, huh?” quips Arnold.
“Go to hell! She was a Republican!”
Arnold picks off a zombie that’s come too close. BANG!
“Republican? Donald, they’re a bunch of flesh eating zombies! Your Goddamn handling of the virus caused a mutation!”
“It is what it is,” says Trump with a shrug. “I’m still taking you court where Neil and Brett owed me!”
“Look at the Supreme Court. They’re insane! They got this hive mind! And they’re going to blow us up if we’re not careful!” shouts President Schwarzenegger, taking aim.
As if on cue, laser beams shoot from Gorsuch’s eyes. But the shot at Arnold misses and instead slices Brett Kavenaugh in two. Kavenaugh says, “Ha! Ha! Split decision.” Kavenaugh’s cut in two body comes apart with a sickening slurp.
“Fuck! There goes the conservative majority,” bitches Trump.
“Mr. President, so yummy, yummy,” says a sweet looking female zombie.
“So tasty. Like a big blo0d orange,” says a male zombie in a fuck Hillary T-shirt.
“Oh-oh. Your Trumpies are looking at you like you’re a goddamn Happy meal!” warns Arnold.
“You’re just jealous because my fans love me. They love me!”
“Look, they think you’re delicious!” shouts President Schwarzenegger. BANG!
“Trump can I have a selfie?” says a Proud Boy zombie.
“Sure,” says Trump.
“Are you insane? Run, you goddamn fool!” BANG! Arnold blows the zombie Proud Boy away and yanks Trump into a run.
A zombie that looks like he used to be either Ted Cruz or the Wolverine steps slowly for Trump, “Hamburders. So good. He’s full of hamburders.” Cruz roars as he dives for Trump.
BANG! Arnold blows Cruz’s head off.
“Have a nice cruise.”
“Why you gotta do that?” grouses Trump.
“Make a wisecrack every time you shoot somebody?” pouts Trump.
“It’s my trademark. Get over it Donald!” shouts Arnold.
Arnold’s good shooting frees Ruth Bader Ginsberg from the Supreme Court hive mind. Gorsuch fires another laser blast at Ruth. BANG! Arnold blows Thomas’ head off.
“Guess he’ll never be head of the supreme court.”
“Thanks, you big hunk of hero!” says Ruth blowing a kiss to Aronold as she exits the giant sound stage. But Trump and Arnold are blocked by the hundreds of angry zombie Trumpies.
“Dear God I smell something awful. Wait… Have you pooped your pants, Donald?”
“Stop ordering me around, Schwarzenegger! I’m the real fucking president!” barks Trump just as zombie Mitch McConnell dives, green teeth bared, for Trump’s neck.
“Oh, it’s you, Donald. I must tell you the greatest regret I have of my career is that I was not able to defeat Obamacare for you,” sobs McConnell as he dives for Trump. Blood splatters Donald.
“Now ya did it!” shouts Trump.
“Putin’s gonna be pissed you killed Moscow Mitch!”
“Shut up and move, you out of shape hamburger brain! Now! Now! Now!” shouts President Schwarzenegger, shoving Trump into a maze set of mirrored walls, the Trump zombie horde hot on their heels.
“I had way, way better ratings on The Apprentice than you did, Arnold!” gripes Trump.
“Fuck you, Donald. Go right!” says President Schwarzenegger. But Trump comes to a stubborn stop. ” Go right,I said! You love right don’t you?”
The mindless Trump zombies are lost in the maze, buying the duo a bit of time .
Trump pants and says badly out of breath, “Wow. I’d be more scared if these zombies were black.”
“The Trump variant of the virus only makes White people into zombies, Donald. Thanks a lot.”
“Damn Chinese,” quips Trump.
“Pathetic! I hope some day when you have passed, Donald, hopefully of the covid you allowed to spread and mutate, that scientists crack open your thick skull and study what makes you the greatest racist in world history!” says Arnold running into the maze.
“Enough! I ain’t budging until you agree that I am the rightful president, Schwarzenegger,” pouts Trump.
“I inherited a shit-hole US of A when you abandoned ship in 2020. For two years I’ve been cleaning up your Goddamn mess and I am so done with this! So fuck you! Fuck you, Donald you’re on your own!” says Arnold running off into the maze.
Trump shouts after Arnold, “Foreigner! I was twice — Uh oh!” Trump’s tirade is cut short as the Trump zombie horde spin around the corner behind close in his heels. Trump spins and say, “My brave, Trump fans! Halt!” says Trump making a Nazi salute.
The Trump zombies all freeze in their tracks and return Trump’s Nazi salute shouting, “Heil, Trump! Heil Trump!”
High above, perched in the rafters, watching the show, the angel winged ghost of Martin Luther King passes a bag of ghostly popcorn to the ghost of LBJ and says sadly, “All I can say, Lyndon, is I’m glad Trump’s not one of my flock”
LBJ says, “Well, the orange clown sure as hell ain’t one of my flock either, Martin.” frowning down on the Trump zombies offering Trump a Nazi salute.
The maze, seen from this ghostly high vantage point, is a horrific collection of interwoven Nazi symbols.
Meanwhile, on the glossy sound stage floor in the maze below, a zombie, who was once Tucker Carlson, steps from the zombie horde,” Mr. President…” groans zombie Tucker.
“That you, Tucker? Wow. Good to see you, man,” says Trump happily.
Zombie Tucker nods and says sheepishly, “Ah, I’m sorry, sir.”
“Sorry for what, Tuck?”
“Well… You look great.”
“Thanks, Tuck. You… not so great.” says Trump sheepishly.
“I’m so hungry, sir. All the Big Macs you packed away. — Sorry, sir. I gotta eat you!” Tucker races from the crowd of Trump zombies for Trump.
“Tucker, you’re canceled.” BANG! “Come with me, Donald if you want to live!”
“Wait. Where have I heard that line?
FUCK YOU! THIS IS NOT A GOD DAMN TRIVA SHOW!”
“Hey, I’ve got Proud Boys who will beat the living shit out of you for speaking to me in such a rude -“
“SHUT UP! SHUT UP! I think I found a way out.”
“No. I love my fans.”
The Trump zombies all smile at Trump suddenly.
“See? My Trumpies… Wait a minute… I have a zombie army!” says Trump.
“What the hell did America ever see in you?” shouts Arnold as he dashes off again.
The red capped zombies begin to inch for Trump. “Stop!” shouts Trump again, doing his Nazi salute. But the zombies pick up speed. Not much, but they do pick up speed. Trump freezes in his tracks as the zombies claw over each other.
Suddenly, Spicer appears from nowhere to the rescue. “So grateful! You’re safe, sir! The Trump zombies listen and obey my song!” sings Spicer, thrusting his pelvis. “Halt! You fabulous bastards!”
Before Trump can say another word a badly overweight zombie leaps upon Sean Spicer. “Not the hat! Don’t touch the hat!” screams Sean. And rips him to shreds, splattering Trump is Sean’s blood. “Chris?”
“It’s always about the bridge. The bridge…” mutters zombie VP Chris Christie.
A horribly deformed Vice President Chris Christie spots Trump just as Trump spots him.
“Chris, is that you?” says Trump.
“You! You gave me Covid, you stupid bastard! Now we gotta eat your delicious ass! Dinner’s served, gang!” says zombie Chris Christie as he dives for Trump… and Trump somehow easily dodges Christie.
Trump easily keeps dodging as he taunts, “Slowpokes. Always did prefer the movies where the zombies are slow as fuck. Whoa! Gotta tweet that!” says Trump pulling out his cell phone and tweeting as he runs through the blood soaked mirror maze. “I love my twitter. Love Facebook even more. Yeah, social media. That’s where I get all my power and I got the tech nerds wrapped around my gigantic little finger.”
Christie dives for Trump and misses.
“Gettin’ tired yet Christie? You are one slow as fuck of zombie. Hahahahaha!”
Trump far behind, Arnold dashes through the maze. He stops to look at himself in the mirrored wall of the maze and says to his reflection, “For as old as fuck as I am right now, I still look better than –,” A zombie wearing a cheese hat jumps out in front of Arnold, waving an AK-47. Very slowly of course. Arnold gets the drop on him and BANG! Arnold notices the zombie he just shot is wearing a Congressional pin. “Oh, fuck. I think I just shot Ron Johnson.” Arnold yanks the machine gun from Johnson cold dead hand and says, “Oh well. No loss.”
The cocky Trump turns the corner and stops dead in his tracks facing his greatest enemy… a long… long… “RAMP. This is it. Impossible. No one could make it down. I’m finished,” croaks Trump as the slow moving zombie horde closes in on the frozen Trump. “This is it for me.”
“My brother President, I am here to save you!” shouts Arnold mass executing zombies with the AK-47 he took off Ron Johnson.
“You’re not my brother President. You’re a foreigner. You’re not president.”
“Goddamnit. Let me save you, you stupid fuck!” says Arnold as he easily runs down the ramp. “Baby steps, Donald. Try baby steps.”
Trump waddles down the ramp, slow as shit.
“Oh my God! What is it with you and ramps?” says Arnold sending dozens of zombie to their graves.
“Do not fucking rush me, Schwarzenegger. I will not end up with a hip surgery!”
“Hip surgery? You need a brain surgery!” shouts Arnold, picking off ten Congressmen zombies closing in on Trump with the AK-47. “And you’re welcome for my saving you.”
Foreigner! I’m the president!”
“Hurry! I don’t have unlimited bullets here, you know!” shouts Arnold, polishing off a baker’s dozen of Trump zombies.
Trump finally makes it to the bottom of the ramp. Trump fast walks with his arms as he slow walks with his feet.
“You’re not fooling anyone with that ‘fuck you’ walk of yours, Donald”
The equally slow moving zombie Christie reemerges from the Trump zombie horde. Trump shouts at Arnold, “Well, what are you waiting for? Shoot him!”
“I will not shoot my goddamn Vice President. You’re on your own, Donald. Again!” says Arnold running off into the maze.
“Let’s cut this fat orange fuck down to size, boys and girls. He’s had so many Fish Fillets we can all feast on one of his chubby thighs for a week!” shouts Christie. The growing zombie horde becomes more determined, as they slowly move for Trump, who is quickly running out of maze.
Trump finally gets it and runs as fast as his fat legs can carry him. Trump dodges through the mirrored maze and comes face to face with the entire Fox and Friends gang. The trio of Fox zombies have muted into an 8 foot tall three headed drooling monster.
Trump says nervously, “Hey, hey, how you three doin’? Whoa! Love that new look. It shouts GOP unity!”
The Fox and Friends giant Zombie rips the orange clown afro wig off Trump’s head, leaving Trump completely bald.
The deformed head of Doccy does all the talking,”You, fucking evil clown! You made us lie about the Covid every Goddamn day. You’ve killed us! You’ve killed the world! Get him!”
Trump pulls off his long red tie and forms a silk lasso. Trump’s red lasso swirls and snags the not so friendly Fox & Friends. Trump dashes off, amazingly light on his feet for such a fat man.
“Sir, lie to us! We love your lies,” shouts Ainsley, despite angry glares from the heads of Kilmead and Doccy.
Trump freezes in his tracks and riffs, “OK… How’s this one? The Chinese vaccines caused to mutation that made you sweethearts into a three-head giant zombie, not me!”
The tied up trio all confer with each other, speaking in some kind of weird zombie language. Ducey says, “Breaking News! “Trump and the other zombies watch Doocy with great anticipation. “Kill this lying sack of shit!”
The tied up Fox and Friends zombies, followed in slow pursuit by Christie. The zombie smash in side of mirror. Glass flies as Trump tap dances away.
Trump loses the zombies in the maze again. He comes upon President Schwarzenegger desperately pondering a series of five doors, labeled in neon with the years 2020 though 2024. “This is your show, Donald! We only have seconds to pick which door!”
Trump slowly walks up the pentagonal formation of doors, “Well, 2024 looks good because I can easily defeat you in a rigged election.”
“I already tried that door, you fool. It’s locked!” shouts Arnold as the sound of the zombies gets closer.
“Well, 2021 then. I’ll have won the election against you, even that fucker Biden.” says Trump with a smirk, opening then door. But Trump is stunned to see a angry mob of red capped insurrectionists, chasing Mike Pence as they shout, “Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!” Trump slams the 2021 door shut and says, “What the fuck was that?”
“Oh, just some of your Proud Boys you’re so proud of!” grouses President Schwarzenegger.
Trump zombies, some of whom Trump saw at the glimpse of insurrection before they were zombie, spin around the corner.
“Time is up asshole! Pick another door!” barks Schwarzenegger as he mows down the endless supply of Trump zombies.
Trump yanks open the 2022 door and comes face to face with a fat zombie Mike Pence. “Donald?”
“Mikey? Haha. So good to see you, buddy,” says Trump hiding his terror.
“The insurrection. Why did you send the Trumpie insurrectionists to hang me on January 6th?” says Pence.
“Uh, must be some kinda antifa trick. I’d never sick my Trumpies on you, buddy. Not me. I’m from 2020! We never had the insurrection. I swear, Mike!”
Pence scowls, “Huh. Why don’t I believe you, Donald?” He unhooks his jaw and swallows Trump whole.
“Mother Mary of God? — How does he taste, though?” wonders President Schwarzenegger.
Pence burps and says somberly, “Like hamburgers. What else?”
Pence’s gaping maw transforms to Trump’s personal attendant Robert, giving Trump mouth to mouth. “Like breathing into a football!” says Robert out of breath.
The unconscious Trump is back in his White House bedroom in the good old present day April 25, 2020. Jared and Ivanka, dressed to a glittery hilt for a formal dinner, both look on nervously.
Ivanka whispers to Jared, “What in holy hell was daddy singing about? Some kind of hive mind. What was that?”
Jared whispers to the sobbing Ivanka, “Should Robert be reviving your dad?”
“So what if Robert’s black? Father is no racist!” sobs Ivanka loudly enough to interrupt Robert.
“Can you two keep it down for a minute?” says Robert, taking a breath from resuscitating Trump.
“That’s not what I meant. You’re always so critical!’ bitches Jared.
Robert stops mouth to mouthing Trump and says drolly, “Kids, do you mind putting your the universe-revolves-me -white-shit aside for 5 minutes while I –“
“Does OUR father have resuscitation order, Robert?” shouts Jared to the incredulous Robert.
Ivanka beats on Jared’s tiny chest,”JARED! Let Robert try to save Father until the paramedics get here.”
“Ah ha. I get it. Make it look like we care. But seriously, Father dies we take over the presidency ,” whispers Jared to Ivanka, who finally gets it with small nod of collusion.
“Hmm. Robert. Um, does my father have a resuscitation order?”
Robert rolls his eyes at Jared and Ivanka and goes back to saving Trump with mouth to mouth.
TO BE CONTINUED IN CHAPTER 5 – THE COVID KID
Return with us to the thrilling days of yesteryear in the OId West, when Trump is the sheriff of a small western town divided into Confederate and Union citizens
A big thanks once again to my amazingly talented wife Elizabeth England for playing all the female parts in this 2021 reading. No disrespect to the fallen of Covid intended. I hope you can have a good sense of humor about all this stuff. It’s the only way we can keep sane.
And thank God we’re on the timeline we are where we don’t have the three million dead kind of situation I think we would have had under Trump. I don’t know what the hell he was doing with the Covid, but it really was not working . Kudos to Joe Biden, Kamala and his team for what they’ve done to restore our lives. I’m going to be seeing my grandchildren soon and I’m really excited.
As always my handy disclaimer that this story is of course a work of pure fiction about an alternate universe. It is in no way a true reflection of the kind and compassionate real-life Donald J Trump, and his charming GOP enablers the Supreme Court, or for that matter, the supposed good guys in this dark comedic tale.
Whoa! Alternate reality President Schwarzenegger is here and wants a word with you!
Listen up, America! Help my good friend Ken Sheetz is busting his flabby ass to bring you laughs and wild adventures, in a time of sorrow, to show you just how fucked up your world can be if you don’t defeat your Trump once and for all, and all the lying losers in the GQP! Make a god damn donation, you cheap bastards, to help Ken keep bringing you more chapters and more old-style radio show audio and make sure that… I’ll be back.
One thought on “Trump’s Fever Dream – Chapter 4 – Dancing With Spicer & Schwarzenegger”
Ken Sheetz Reblogged this on Coolest Meditation Ever and commented: Yes, I began writing about Trump catching the virus in an alternate universe months before it happened. Predictably science is a bitch. Don’t be part of Trump’s cautionary tale. Wear a mask and social distance. Like Reply
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