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For his final magical misinformation tour before the midterms, the President boarded his plane, Air Fear One, and then personally wanded everyone boarding to be sure none of them was sneaking any compassion, decency or morals on board. When Trump finished, he was satisfied that his flight would have its usual venom- packed ambiance.

The flight was so crowded with his Party’s many bigots and racist candidates that there wasn’t room for regular staffers like Sarah Sanders. Fortunately, she was able to make the trip on her Ann Coulter “White Supremacist 400X Broom.” The broom is not only fast, but Sanders says it makes her feel like a sexual person. She and Lindsey Graham often regale one another with their broom-induced sexual fantasies.

Cabinet members and advisors, not aboard the plane, went to Trump’s newly opened Strom Thurmond Conference Room to Skype with him. The room boasts an original décor of “Ropes Through the Ages.” All donated by well known plantation owner, Jeff (The South Will Rise Again) Sessions.

After wiping their feet on the United States Constitution, our government officials entered the Thurmond Conference Room and turned on their Skypes to see the President trying to free himself from the child’s beach pail his head was trapped in. Trump was struggling to breathe and his life was in jeopardy when Ivanka and Jared rushed in and cut the pail from his neck using the Jews of Life.

The President finally began the session by demanding to know who was in charge of acquiring the “pipe bomber guy’s van for my grandkids.” Kellyanne Conway chimed in by saying she’d gone to the Florida jail to see where Cesar Sayoc, the new “hero-of-the-far-right,” was being held. She was not allowed to see Sayoc and was, in fact, lucky to escape with her life after the jail’s electronic security system identified her as poisonous snake. “I was lucky to slither out of there alive,” she remarked.

Suddenly, the plane began shaking violently. Trump and everyone else thought they were done for, but then they looked out their windows and realized that it was just Sarah Sanders having a broomgasm.




A forty-seven page indictment was handed down last week accusing California Congressman Duncan Hunter and his wife of misappropriating campaign funds. Hunter was the second Republican Congressman to be indicted this month.

Learning that the Hunters had stolen two-hundred-fifty–thousand dollars over seven years, Donald Trump stopped tweeting a lot of misspelled words and became furious, stating, “No self-respecting Republican with that much time to do it would steal so little money. He’s a disgrace. Now Paul Manafort, that’s a crook our party can be proud of.”

Hunter, a former Marine, acted like anything but one when he blamed his spouse, Margaret, for stealing the campaign funds. He tried to underscore his point by adding, “My wife also ate my homework.”

Hunter represents a district in San Diego that is redder then a baboon’s ass. Also representing an equally baboon assed district of California is practicing fascist, Congressman Dana Rohrabacher. A longtime friend of the Hunters, Rohrabacher raced to their defense, saying, “Duncan’s a good man and so is his wife.”

Hunter appeared to be squeaky-clean to his constituents, but was known in Washington for his partying and frequenting bars where he’d become abusive and pick fights. Sometime with other patrons, sometimes with coat racks.

It got so bad that in 2016, John Boehner called him in and told him to “Cut the crap.”

Hunter didn’t. The excessive drinking continued as did his stealing of campaign funds. One charge in the indictment states that some of that money was used to buy a plane ticket for his service dog. This ended in tragedy when he and his wife were seated across the aisle from a man traveling with his service crocodile.

Hunter recently joined all other Republican Congressmen who’ve developed back trouble and hired the Joe Friday Detective Agency to locate their spines. Unfortunately the detectives have yet to turn up any spines, but while searching in hell they did come across the Congressmen’s souls.





It took a long time for President Trump to get rid of former EPA director Scott “Sticky Fingers” Pruitt, even though this curse from the Dark Ages is under fourteen separate federal indictments.

Trump can be forgiven for taking so long because he’s been distracted by his time-consuming and committed effort to pick a Supreme Court nominee who will make decisions based in fourteenth century law.

Proud of having accomplished that goal, the President relaxed by playing with his porn-star trading cards. When he finished arranging them by cup size, he focused his five-second attention span on Pruitt, who at that moment was backing a “super-polluting-diesel-truck” up to an asthma clinic.

Pruitt had to go since Trump’s demanding standards dictate that none of his swamp-dwelling appointees can be under more than twelve federal indictments at any one time.

Pruitt told the press that it was his decision to resign, which it was immediately after John Kelly told him to resign. The fired EPA Director wrote out his resignation on his personal stationary, whose logo is a seagull covered in oil.

It is believed that the final straw for Pruitt was the public confrontation with a woman and her child in a D.C. restaurant. He sat there contemptuously listening as the obviously insane woman demanded clean air for her child. This infuriated the EPA Director, but not nearly as much as his lunch of a small, roasted child with braces going cold did.

The fired Pruitt  said that he’ll now have more time to spend with his family. He is happily married with two children that he stole from gypsies.

Pruitt, a right-wing religious fanatic, hit it off with Trump at his initial interview when he convinced the President that they shared the same vision of destroying everything good and decent thing that has been accomplished, with blood, in America over the past seventy years.

While the two will probably never speak again, there’s little doubt that they will be united in hell.