Cornered like a rat, Donald Trump needed to vent, so he speed-dialed his BFF, Satan. The devil actually despises him, but treats him well because Trump’s one of his best producers.
When Trump called, he was put on hold for fifteen minutes by Satan’s secretary, Strom Thurmond.
The Devil finally got on the line:
Trump: I need to talk, sir. I’m really worried.
Devil: “Worried?” Don’t be. I’ve got your back.
Trump: I appreciate-
Devil: But I can’t cover your ass. Do you have tarp?
Trump: Don’t kibitz, sir. I’m very concerned. My poll numbers are tanking. Maybe I’m selling out my country too fast.
Devil: Just relax. You’re doing a splendid job. Shutting down your government to crush those federal workers and everyone they do business with, great. And I figure about a year before you destroy the healthy economy Obama left you.
Trump: I’m counting the days.
Devil: And don’t think that separating Hispanic children from their parents at the border and f**ki*g the Kurds has gone unnoticed down here.
Trump: Well, Vladimir has some great ideas… You know, he’s very popular in Russia. Maybe I should take my shirt off and sit on a horse.
Devil: Please don’t… Look, just think of your future here in Hell. When you arrive you’ll have the best accommodations and cable, but you’ll have to carry your own bags.
Trump: Pence will do that.
Devil: He won’t. Vice President Wonder Bread will be going to a newly- opened rung where he’ll wait tables in a gay bar.
Trump: You are real pisser, S-Man.
Devil: You haven’t heard the best part — his wife’s the bartender.
Trump: I love it… But can we talk about my numbers? I’m thinking of taking a new approach and showing some compassion.
Trump: Satan… Satan?… Shit.