Hope Hicks, who Donald Trump gave the made-up job of “White House Director of Strategic Communications,” eventually left her fake job under a cloud.

After leaving, she knew she wanted to continue working in the same field. Seeking advice on this, she sought out Donald Trump because the plant in her office was dead.

When they met in the Oval Office, Hicks told Trump she really wanted to go into P.R. Trump asked, “What the hell do you want with Puerto Rico? I really f**ked them over. The place is a mess.”

She congratulated Trump on his achievement and then asked him if he would call Fox News in her behalf. He agreed and then told her that she had to be a real bigot and racist to work there. She reassured him that she was, saying, “I’m so bigoted that I even hate tan people.”

When Trump’s lunch arrived, not wanting to have Big Mac chunks spit on her, and fearing that her fingers might get too close to Trump’s mouth, she left immediately.

We caught up with Hicks just after the news broke that she’d been hired by Fox. She told us that her grandfather worked P.R. for Texaco, and her father worked for a major tobacco company. She feels blessed that her ability to disregard the environment and people’s health has come so easily to her.

We asked her about resigning from the White House exactly one day after her boyfriend, Rob Porter, left when it came to light that he’d physically abused his two ex-wives.

Hicks told us that she’d known about that in advance. We asked her what she saw in him and she replied, “I like consistency in my men, and what woman doesn’t love purple bruises on her face and arms?”

We wondered if Porter ever hit her. She looked wistful when she told us, “No. Our relationship was only about a week away from that. I feel cheated.”

We wanted to know if she had any self-respect.

She said proudly, “Of course not, I’m a Republican woman.”



Donald Trump, after being turned down by every licensed and disbarred lawyer in America, finally found three that would defend him. Rudy Giuliani leads the new team. Trump was able to locate New York’s former mayor on his “Creeps Needing Work” app.

Giuliani, after graduating from New York’s prestigious “College of Legal Thuggery,” rose quickly to become a U.S. Attorney where he earned a reputation for prosecuting all manner of criminals. So dedicated was he that every morning when he looked in the mirror, he had himself arrested. Giuliani made so many visits to jail, and became so popular, that eventually he was allowed to pick his own husband.

In 1968, Giuliani married his second cousin. He did this because his first cousin turned him down. The couple was married for fourteen years and are the proud parents of three children with webbed feet. Rudy’s favorite is the one that was born without a tail.

Adding to the legend that is Rudy Giuliani, he once announced, publically, that he was divorcing his second wife without having told her in advance. Humiliating his wife this way met two of Trump’s most important requirements to be his friend: being devoid of decency and having less class than two dead flies.

Trump tried to enlist Chris Christie for his legal team, but the former New Jersey Governor is blocking a tunnel that runs between Jersey and New York. He got stuck while entering the Jersey side and it is hoped that rescue crews will be able to free him by late June. He’s in no real danger, as he’s being fed rectally. Christie, seizing this opportunity to lose weight, has requested that he be restricted to sixty-five-thousand calories a day.

Trump is happy to have Giuliani join him but not as happy as Sarah Sanders, who enjoys long walks on the beach, beautiful sunsets and making gentle love to things that slither.

This just in: Giuliani’s third wife just filed for divorce.





Since taking office, Donald Trump has turned self-delusion into an art form. His total detachment from reality makes schizophrenics jealous.

Less than three weeks after the horror that took place in Parkland, Florida, Trump, a figment of his own imagination, took his untreated illness to new lows when he said that he would have run into the school even if he didn’t have a weapon.

Compelled to feed his megalomania, the President sent his new runner, Jared Kushner, to buy him a pair of red tights and a cape.

Next, he enlisted Hope Hicks, in her first, last and only official fib-free act, to help him get into his new superhero outfit.  After two hours and with all of her fingernails broken, she had successfully stuffed her boss into the tights. This was now the biggest challenge Spandex had ever faced.

Trump, now disguised as the biggest blivet in history, decided to leave the White House and go looking for a  crime in progress, which, let’s face it, he really didn’t need to leave the White House to do. He ordered Hicks to accompany him on his mission and to bring band-aids just in case.

They walked through the streets of D.C. looking and listening for a violent crime, but couldn’t find any until Trump stopped in his tracks outside of the “D.C. Health Center.”

Trump: In there. Gunfire.

Hicks: I hear it, but it sounds like sneezing.

Trump: It’s an assassin with allergies. An active sneezer.

The world’s newest superhero dashed bravely into the medical building but fell when his tights cried “Uncle” and split wide open. The active sneezer, a seven-year-old girl with a bad cold, and her mother walked towards the gelatinous form on the floor.

The little girl pointed at Trump and asked, “What is that, mommy?”  Her mother responded, “Sweetheart, that’s the biggest mistake this country ever made.”