THIS TRANSMISSION IS CLASSIFIED.  FAILURE TO COMPLY WITH THIS TRANSMISSIONS CLASSIFICATION WILL RESULT IN PROSECUTION TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW.

UP TO AND INCLUDING IMPRISONMENT IN JOE BIDEN’S PRESIDENTIAL GULAG.  YOU WANT TO BE LIKE THAT BUFFALO GUY?

REMEMBER WHAT WE DID WITH JOHN HINKLEY? GOOD.  WE DON’T EVEN KNOW, EITHER.

THINK ABOUT IT, BECAUSE I DO

Location:  MAR-A-LAGO RESORT

Date:  3 January 2022, 0345

 

“They’re doing it again.  They want to blame me for the Zoot Suit Riot again but nobody wants to wear zoot suits anymore so why is this my fault?”  The former President asked the gilded, phallic shaped floor lamp.  He looked back to his photo of shaking Kim Jung Un’s hand at Panmunjeom.

”One day, they will will thank me.”

“Nobody will thank you, not when you keep hanging out with that chubby chasing schmuck with the machine gun.”

”What’s wrong with chubby chasing?  The chase.  By definition there is no sport in it.”

”Mr. Trump…..You’re 4 o’clock is here.”  A secretary said over the intercom on the Mar-A-Lago Resolute desk.

“We had a 4 o’clock?”

”In the morning?”

”Mr. Former President.  You asked to see me?”  A government agent limped into the gilded executive suite at Mar-A-Lago.  His disheveled appearance left him looking like he used an emergency chemical shower.  His yellow and green plaid suit was curiously creased across the back as if he slept overnight on the green on the 14th hole.

”I don’t think he’s the homeless guy that lives under the bridge on the 14th green.  That guy is much more wily if he’s able to evade presidential security.  He’s a real fighter, a real god-fearing American if he’s going to survive out there without pants or meth.”

”Mr. President…I’m over here.”  The government agent said.  The room was different from his last visit nearly two years prior.  The white furniture was replaced with a luxurious golden velour.  He touched the couch.

“He loves it, look at him wince at the luxuriousness of my most luxurious golden velour couch.”

”I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure since the early 1970’s.  May I?”  The government agent asked.  He sat down slowly, and gingerly placed his bulging, sweating buttocks upon the firm, yet supple cushion.  “Sweet Jesus.”

”It is not brown adipose tissue we harvested from Haitian migrants.  I really resent that.  People from shit hole countries shouldn’t be made into furniture.  That was clearly from those tremendous manatee carcasses that turned up on the water hazard on the 9th hole.”

“I’m still over here.”  The government agent sank into the couch.  “So why did you call me over?”

”Have you seen what they are saying about me?  I’m laughing at the whole thing.  Like I am perched upon a golden throne playing a fiddle while I watch America burn.  Its not funny, okay its a little funny, but I’m not laughing.  Is this that SMITH guy?”

The government agent adjusted his balls as he sat on the couch.  He took his time.  “No this isn’t SPACE SMITH.”

”What about that Maxwell broad?”  The former president asked.

”No…sugar tits was just misdirection.”  The government agent replied.

”What about the vampire lady?”

”Who?”

”Some lady asked me for money like ten years ago.  Very attractive, delightful voice, like Bea Arthur.”

”The Theranos lady?”

”I could listen to her read a phone book, too, but she wasn’t selling those kind of services, guys.”

”She was actually an ambassador representing genetically modified apes.  A group of Nazi scientists tried to create a race of super servants that ultimately killed everyone working at the lab.  In a fit of panic, Nazi leadership spent the last two years of the war rounding them up and imprisoning them in a facility on the moon.  Impressive, really given they did all of that and were still fighting us.  Those guys really were superior.”

“Wait what?”  The former president asked.

”Everyone wants to say RETVRN TO MONKE until its time to do RETVRN TO MONKE shit.  Let me tell ya.”

“This is crazier than that time you brought Ukrainian hookers”. The former president said towards the lamp.

“Jesus titty fucking Christ, this couch.  Anyways, Holmes wanted to bring the monkeys home to work for her blood collection scheme.  The problem at the time was Hunter had a similar scheme involving a Taliban prison gang in Anbar province.  Her ties to Biden are a pretty open secret.  Those guys are now stuck working in the lithium mines.”

”Are you sure you should be telling me this?”  The former president asked.

”Are you sure this couch was stuffed with manatees?”

”Touchè”

THIS TRANSMISSION IS CLASSIFIED.  FAILURE TO COMPLY WITH THIS TRANSMISSIONS CLASSIFICATION WILL RESULT IN PROSECUTION TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW.

UP TO AND INCLUDING IMPRISONMENT IN JOE BIDEN’S PRESIDENTIAL GULAG.  YOU WANT TO BE LIKE THAT BUFFALO GUY?

REMEMBER WHAT WE DID WITH JOHN HINKLEY? GOOD.  WE DON’T EVEN KNOW, EITHER.

THINK ABOUT IT, BECAUSE I DO