Presumptive Presidential candidate Donald Trump was rushed to New York’s “Narcissistic Billionaires of Mercy Hospital” with a collapsed Twitter finger.

Trump’s heart stopped during the ride. He was lucky to survive as it took paramedics ten minutes to locate it. Desperate, one paramedic finally checked Trump’s wallet and found his heart in one of the credit card pouches. The cardio-paddles were applied to the wallet and Trump opened his eyes and started screaming, “Where’s my finger?! Where’s my finger?!” The paramedics rolled him over and, using a mirror, showed him where it was.

Upon arrival Trump was assigned the hospital’s best team, headed by Dr. Gregory Rouse. Rouse’s team was hired because they could use the word “sarcoidosis” in every third sentence.

Trump was immediately taken to the private suite he keeps there. He pays a doctor to remain in the room at all times, just in case. They entered to find ninety-one-year-old Dr. Michael Norland asleep. Smelling salts were used to wake the doctor.

After Norland studied Trump’s finger, one of the team members asked him what he thought. Norland responded, “I like ranch dressing.”

All of a sudden, Trump became hysterical, grabbed his phone and began tweeting with his tongue. The tweet made less sense than usual because it contained words like, “Xtorp, Bruff, Smonone and Rushnorp.”

Fuming, Trump fired his tongue and said he wouldn’t give it a good reference.

A rash began spreading all over the billionaire’s body. Dr. Rouse and his team looked at each other and in unison said, “sarcoidosis.”

Nineteen hours and fifty-eight wrong diagnoses later, they found out that Trump was allergic to Twitter.

When they informed him, he clutched at his wallet and went into cardiac arrest.

Ken Hecht