Donald Trump talks about… Himself

“Donald, can you name five things that make this country great?”

Donald Trump shoots back, “Well, Susan, me…. that’s one.”

Susan nods, “Of course.”

“My beautiful wife and all of the luscious female followers that gush all over me. That’s a clear two…”

Susan raises a brow, “Okaaaayyyyy…”

Donald taps his chin, “Let’s see now…. Oh, my Justin-Beiber-Do-For-Seniors hairspray. Great stuff! Hey Beibs!” He waves to the camera.

“That’s three”

“Hm… there’s not really much else I can come up with. The country is NOT great, it’s hamburger meat.”

“Donald…. did you just call America ‘hamburger meat’?”

Donald nods, “Raw… with a Wonder Bread bun, drowned in ketchup, mustard, relish, onions, and sauerkraut. Throw in a sprinkling of Obama Muslim-ness, put it in a paper bag, shake it up, and send it to Google Maps. It would be a more accurate picture of the mess we’re in today.”

“Donald, Obama is not a Muslim,” Susan rubs her forehead then continues. “You can’t say ONE POSITIVE thing about the United States?”

“It’s made me filthy rich… Wait, NO NO, I made me filthy rich.” Donald muses.

“But… you can be Donald Trump in the United States. You can belittle the President, you can run for his seat, you have the freedom to bombast the country.” Aren’t those great things?

“I suppose…” he says thoughtfully. “That’s probably not enough to qualify for the number four spot, though.”

“And compared to the rest of the world, we live in relative safety and wealth, don’t you think?”

“I wouldn’t know about that. My safety comes from the world-class security that guards me.”

“Donald, why are you even running for President? Don’t you even LIKE the United States?”

“I will LOVE it as President, I PROMISE you! I’ll ADORE it! First we need take the country back and recreate it into a country I want to live in. Just like me, the country needs a world class security system, starting off with more and more and higher and higher fences. And then we need to go through every single issue — gay marriage, terrorism, others — and throw the Book at them!” Donald waves his Bible. “Then you can come to me and ask me how I like America.”

“Donald, what do you mean by ‘others’?” Susan wriggles quote fingers in the air.

“You know… others.  Others others others.  People that don’t belong here.”

“Such as?”

“Well, women for one. I mean, they’re all beautiful, don’t you go misquoting me again!”  He chuckles.  “Some of them in fact are absolutely gorgeous! And sexy! I acknowledge we need them for… you know, procreating and such, but sheesh…” His voice trails off as he shakes his head.

“Who are the OTHER ‘others’, may I ask?” Susan tilts her head at him.

“Susan, I’m not going to get into specifics. Let me just say that if you don’t look like you belong here, you probably don’t… Starting with Obama.  Oh, I’m not talking about the Native-American Indians, by the way.  We need them to run our casinos.”

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Home Turf : Name five things in your house that make it a home.  Thanks for the lovely prompt suggestion, thekyleinator!

Donald Trump talks about… Himself

Donald Trump Talks About Love

Susan watches Donald’s entourage flock around him, fretting over his hair, clothes, and makeup. After an eternity, they leave. She again turns to Donald as he beams pearl white teeth at her.

She looks down at her notes and continues.  “Donald, how far would you go for someone you love?”

“Huh?”  Donald frowns comically with his neck tilted forward and eyes wide.

“I said, ‘How fa…'”

“I heard I heard that!” Donald flaps his hand at Susan. “I’m talking about the l.l.l.l.l.o.o.o.o.o.” His mouth freezes, speechless for the first time in his entire life.

“love?” Susan coaxes, leaning forward and twirling her hand.

“Aaaaaaaarrrggghhhhhh!” Donald falls to his knees in agony, covering his ears.  Then he stops.  “Wait… were you talking about love for myself??”

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Take Me to the Moon : How far would you go for someone you love? How far would you want someone else to go for you? Thank you for the prompt suggestion, amommasview!

Donald Trump Talks About Love

Susan Interviews Donald Trump

“Donald, thank you for coming. How are you feeling about the campaign today?”

“Great, Susan, simply great! America is crumbling, but we’ll get it back on track!”

“Donald, can you explain this? Do you really think Obama is a non-American Muslim?”

“Well, Susan, let’s face it, a birth certificate is not proof of anything, I don’t care how official you claim it is,” he scoffs.  “Hell, we all know what a Hawaiian looks like.  That man is not Hawaiian.  It’s a government cover-up. The Muslims are scheming to take the country over and Donald Trump isn’t going to stand for it. LET’S TAKE BACK AMERICA!”  Donald pumps his fist as he says this.

“But… you DO know that Obama is Christian and not Muslim, don’t you?”  Susan cocks her head, raising her brows at him.

Donald squints at her and then shrugs, “Maybe he is, maybe he’s not.  Just because he says he is isn’t absolute proof.”  He whips out a Bible from behind him and shakes it in the air, “I’ve read this wonderful book from cover to cover — it’s my all-time favorite book.  Don’t you think I’d recognize a Christian when I see one?”

“Donald, you say America is falling apart. In what way is it falling apart?”

He waves his arms.  “Just look around you! We have 11 million illegal immigrants taking our jobs and raping and killing our citizens. We need to round up all 11 million of these scumbags and GET THEM AND THEIR BABIES THE HELL OUT OF OUR COUNTRY by whatever means necessary!  And hey, this is important, guys!”  He points his finger at the camera.

A spray of fine spittle catches Susan squarely in the face.  She blinks and turns away for a moment before continuing.  “How does that align with the 2 million Syrian refugees that are risking their lives to escape a humanitarian crisis?”

“Not our problem, Susan, that’s Europe’s problem.  If they try coming here, I tell you what. It won’t happen ON MY WATCH. I’ll recall every last troop from around the world and bomb them to smithereens if I have to do that.  We need to keep our country safe and that means no Muslim-or-any-other-non-Christian refugee.  I’ll drop a nuclear bomb on Syria and bomb every single Muslim off the face of the planet if that’s what it takes.  In fact, that oughta save everyone a lot of time and trouble.”

“Donald, just a side note: You do realize they are not all Muslim — in fact many are Christian — and that most Muslims are not extremists but normal people, don’t you?”

“Whatever.  They all look like Muslim extremists, that’s all that matters.  I might accept a Christian or two, but only if they look Christian — IT’S ALL ABOUT APPEARANCES, GUYS, COME ON!  IF YOU WANT TO BE A CHRISTIAN YOU NEED TO LOOK LIKE A CHRISTIAN.”  He turns from the camera back to Susan.  “And by the way… Obama has been on the warpath against Christianity from day one.”

“But Obama is Chri…”  Susan sighs.  “Ok, so… you’d still bomb [the rest of] them to smithereens’?”  She wriggles her quote fingers in the air.

“Absolutely, make no mistake about it!”  He stops, then adds, “We might go in and find the Christians-who-look-like-Christians first… my people will come up with something workable.”  He nods his head.

“Donald, what do you think is the greatest concern facing America today?”

“Well, Susan, this is what I’ve been saying all along. The lack of a wall along the Mexican border is the biggest challenge we face today…”

“Donald, it seems like your polling numbers are sagging. What do you think about that?”

“… and let me add, we’re not doing enough to punish illegal immigration.  We need more severe punishment.  Special high-security prisons and/or interrogations followed by deportation back to their country of origin is the first step I’ll take as president…  And by the way, my numbers aren’t dwindling, those numbers are the manipulation of the political machinery which is a travesty in America… thanks to Obama,” he mutters under his breath.

“What will you do if you lose the primary?”

“I won’t. The American people have spoken. AMERICA NEEDS AND WANTS DONALD TRUMP!”

“I mean, but if you do… what do you think you will have learned about yourself?”

“I won’t!  Donald Trump has not ever and Will. Not. Ever. lose at anything.  You’re asking leading questions now.”  A strand of yellow hair falls free of its Justin-Bieber-Do-For-Seniors hairspray and flops on his forehead.  “You know what, this interview is over.”  Donald waves his hand dismissively at Susan as he storms away shaking his head just a bit too vigorously, grumbling, “Damned media.”

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Mountaintops and Valleys : Describe a time when you quickly switched from feeling at the top of the world to sinking all the way down (or vice versa). Did you learn anything about yourself in the process? Thank you for suggesting this prompt, rollingblogger!

Susan Interviews Donald Trump

Rambo Flash Fiction

Yesterday we had a wonderful hike up the local mountain. The weather was cool with a warm breeze, and the summit was packed with hikers, wedding parties, dogs, rangers, and birdwatchers.

To celebrate the absolute goodness of my day, I stayed up all night smoking pot and watching Rambo. Why was I watching Rambo? Dunno, maybe because in my marijuana-induced haze, young Silvester Stallone is cute. The energy he exhibits as a survivalist is captivating. He lives with an intense single-minded focus:  be ready to kill at any instant — deer, people, puppies… basically anything that crosses his path.

In honor of Rambo, here’s my Daily Prompt contribution:

George stepped gingerly through the thicket, looking around, his AK-47 cocked and ready to shoot. It didn’t escape him that his hands were shaking so badly he wouldn’t in a million years be able to hit the side of a barn.

It turned out ok, though, because it took only a second for Rambo’s wire cinch to flip George’s head off. It rolled on the ground, looked up at Rambo with its mouth open in an O shape, tears streaming, and then rolled over one last time and came to rest face-down with its chin on the ground.

== 100 words ==

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Mouth Drop : In exactly 100 words creatively describe one moment when your mouth dropped open, chin hit the ground, and tears rolled down your face (figuratively or not). If you prefer to develop this into a longer post, that’s fine too! Thanks for the prompt suggestion, T. Dwella!

Rambo Flash Fiction

Brad Accepts Eternal Life

Receptionist: “How can I help you, sir?”

Brad: “I found this flyer on my windshield and I’m interested.”

Receptionist: “Very good, sir. First, fill out these forms and bring them back to me.”

Brad: “Okay.” He takes a clipboard and pulls out the pen. There are 20 pages of questions and disclaimers, and he has to sign and date each page. He whips through all 20 pages in about 30 seconds, scribbling his signature, then he snaps the pen back into the clipboard and hands it back to the receptionist.

She reads each page, nodding. “Good. Wait here please.” She disappears behind a closed door. When she comes back, Brad has turned into a 2-year-old.

Receptionist: “That’ll be $30,000, sir.”

Brad shrugs, looks up at her and shows her his baby hands. “No! No no no no no!”

Receptionist: “Uh, oh…” She disappears behind the back door again.

“DAMMIT, you’re fired!” a deep male voice booms from behind the door.

The receptionist comes out crying, “How was I supposed to know you get the money first? This is my first goddamned day on the job!” Cursing, she packs her things up and storms out of the office leaving 2-year-old Brad alone in the waiting room buried in his over-sized clothes.

Brad eventually spends the rest of eternity in foster homes, screaming “No no no no no!!”

== 231 words ==

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Golden Age : If you had to live forever as either a child, an adolescent, or an adult, which would you choose — and why?

Brad Accepts Eternal Life

How to (Not) Make a Decision

“I have to make a decision today.” Matt spoke gutterally, held his breath, and then blew out a stream of smoke, coughing, and holding the joint to Bennie. “This is some really good shit, Bennie.”

Bennie nodded, taking a long hit. “Decision about what, Matt?” He reciprocated by talking and holding his smoke simultaneously.

“About whether to get off my butt and get a job.”

Bennie burst out laughing, releasing his toke. He coughed on the escaping smoke and then took a long draw on his beer. Snorting and then wiping his nose on his shirt, he adjusted the roach clip and then offered the joint back to Matt. “You? Work? Good one, Matt!”

Matt giggled, showing black, disintegrating teeth. A mouse scurrying along the alleyway stopped and watched him drink his beer and then roll another joint. “Eh, maybe tomorrow. I’m busy today.” He propped his feet on an empty cardboard box as he lit the joint, grinning.

== 159 words ==

Written in response to today’s WordPress Daily Prompt Decisions, Decisions :  How are you more likely to make an important decision — by reasoning through it, or by going with your gut?

How to (Not) Make a Decision

FFAW: The Tour

Photo Credit: Etol Bagam

Andy led the tourists across the bridge and along the path to the bottom of the waterfall, chatting away. They were captivated as he gave highlights of the geological and biological history of the site. When they reached the bottom of the waterfall, he said, “Wait here,” and disappeared.

A set of huge ice cold orange eyes appeared from a cave under the waterfall. A forked tongue swept the tourists down the cave and into poison fangs, and the giant serpent slinked back into the depths of the cave.

Andy tried on the left over clothes and jewelry and pocketed the money. It was a symbiotic relationship: The serpent got food, and he got the bootie. How long would this spell last, he wondered.

== 124 words ==

Thank you to Priceless Joy for sponsoring the flash fiction challenge, Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above. Everyone is invited to participate, just click on the blue froggie to add a link your piece.

FFAW: The Tour

MLMM: The Student

Photo Credit – NEKNEERAJ

From the very second this boy was born, he was special. He came out of the womb with his eyes open, and smiled.

He would spend many hours, even as a toddler, with his face turned to the sky. What was he thinking? Who was he talking with?

As he walked through the woods, the animals tolerated his presence. It was as though he belonged there.

He grew up a great calligraphy master and spiritual teacher, loved by all who knew him.

One day a space ship came and took him away. Earth had been the perfect incubation for learning all about humanity. The fate of the Universe depended upon other civilizations learning the way of peace, for the rest of the Universe was many times more savage than Earth.

== 130 words ==

Thanks to Neeraj (NEKNEERAJ) for hosting Photo Challenge #71, Habitat, July 28, 2015. He presents us with a photo and asks us to write a poem or short story based upon it. Everyone is welcome to participate.

When you’re done, TAG the post Photo Challenge and MindLoveMisery’s Menagerie, and add your link to the MLMM Image Below. And don’t forget to link to this post. We can read your post sooner that way.

MLMM: The Student

MFtS: Frodo and the Cape

—© 2015, Barbara W. Beacham

He thought he found the perfect hiding spot

Frodo huddled under his invisibility cape. “Is this thing working?” he wondered. He could see out perfectly, but could they see him? He stood up and headed towards the entryway.

“Harriet, our blender is running away!” Frodo looked back at the shrill male voice that belonged to Herb and began running.

“Herb, don’t you dare use that ‘blender running away’ excuse with me today! You’re not getting out of breakfast duty!”

Frodo raced to the front door, opened it, and ran to where Gandalf waited. “What took you so long?”

Frodo took off his invisibility cloak “I don’t think this is working.”

Gandalf saw Herb racing across the yard towards them and held his staff up, uttering a spell. Herb screamed, “Come back here, you motherfuckin’ blender!” just as they disappeared with the cookies.

== 134 words ==

Thank you Barbara Beacham for our photo prompt this week and for hosting Monday’s Finish the Story Challenge. Barbara provides the photo and opening line, and asks for stories about 100 to 150 (not including the opening line) words.

Everyone is welcome to participate in Monday’s Finish the Story by writing your story and connecting it with the blue froggy button.

Mondays Finish the Story

MFtS: Frodo and the Cape

SPF: The Beta

Photo Credit: A Mixed Bag 2012, Alistair Forbes

He jumped up and did a flip, and then raced to the town square.

“Hey there, Gary!” Desiree said.

“Oh, hey, Des!” He replied.

“Wanna go kill stuff together?”

“Ok. Let me regear first.”

“I hope they add some color in these characters for beta 2. Other than that, it seems like a well-done game, what do you think, Susan?” George looked around at the other side of the office as Susan turned to his monitor and nodded.

“I like it so far, but the figures are too…. roundish… almost like clay figures.” She did a dance with Desiree and then laughed as Desiree laughed. “Pretzels and beer before we start questing?”

“Sure.” George took a screenshot of Gary and then found a merchant to stock up on potions.

== 127 words ==

Join in the fun and submit your story for the writing challenge hosted by Alistair Forbes. He gives us a photo prompt and approximately 200 words with which to write our flash fiction story with. If you would like to participate, click here. Share the link to your story by clicking on the blue froggy below.


SPF: The Beta