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TWITTER DIGIT

 

The White House is keeping wraps on the fact that at 3:15 A.M. last night, Donald Trump’s twitter finger collapsed. When word of this spread through the building, Trump’s staff, always in touch with the times, joyfully danced the “Mashed Potato” and sang, “Love Letters in the Sand.”

As Trump was rushed to famed “Doctors and Stuff Hospital,” he wailed, “God, why have you forsaken me? Rich people aren’t supposed to suffer.” God’s voice boomed down angrily, “You say you’re rich, but where the f**k are your tax returns?”

Prior to arriving at the hospital, Trump screamed at Sean Spicer, who was in the van with him. “The nation depends on my tweets. Someone has to tweet from the White House.” Spicer reassured Trump by telling him, “Don’t worry, sir. There’s a monkey, Ethel Merman, en route right now.”

Trump demanded to know if the primate had the same political views as him.

Spicer: We think so, Mr. President. Ethel throws her feces at the wall just like you do.

Trump was met in the hospital by hand specialist Dr. James Orbea. The doctor noted that Trump had a finger inserted into his nose. The doctor removed the Presidential digit, which had a booger on it. The President looked at it and said proudly, “I have the best boogers.”

Dr. Orbea examined Trump’s hand and put the tweeting finger in a splint. He told the President that he couldn’t use it for two months.

Trump wailed, “The nation cannot survive without my tweets.”

Just then, Kellyanne Conway dashed into the room and showed Trump her phone. “Look sir, the monkey is tweeting for you… In fact her tweet actually makes sense.”

The President glared at her. Conway: “I’ll fire Ethel Merman immediately, sir.”

Ken Hecht

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