Donald Trump Implodes Over Being Banned From Twitter!
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By Donald “Braveheart” Stewart
Mr. Trump is dancing in the Not So White House…
Picture the scene…
It is a Wednesday.
Not much happens on a Wednesday…
But Mr. Trump is singing and dancing…
On the television screen that is held on the wall of the Not So Oval Office there are scenes of carnage.
Mr. Trump loves these…
“You see how they are managing to show these good people protesting?”
Orange Aide and Agent Orange are standing with their jaws loose and open, their hands on their foreheads and their disbelief plain for all to see; apart from the President. What they are watching is a horror show on Capitol Hill.
What they are hearing is a man who has no idea what he has done. Like a kid in the sand pit who has taken a dump there and is now blaming everyone for the smell, Mr. Trump is a proud child, boasting of what he has done, but denying that he has done anything at all…
“Mr. President,” begins Orange Aide. “That is awful.”
“I know,” Mr. Trump responds. “Ain’t it?” he chuckles to himself.
“Look! Look!” Mr. Trump points at the screen. “They got Nancy’s chair!”
Agent Orange sits down and sees some of the people he knows, good people, law enforcement people, get pushed to one side as these lunatics are in the seat of the government his colleagues and friends are supposed to serve and protect and ransacking it.
Mr. Trump jumps for joy and then does another one of his victory dances where he pushes his hands out to each side and back in again. Mr. Trump is so pleased.
“I need to tell people on Twitter.” Mr. Trump picks up his phone.
“About that,” begins Orange Aide. “Mr. President, you have been suspended from Twitter.”
Mr. Trump’s mood does not darken. “Happens now and again, I shall wait for a few hours and then tweet out.”
“I am afraid that it is a permanent exclusion.”
Mr. Trump looks up. “Don’t worry about that, we shall remove their special privileges and they shall let me back in. Get me my special executive order book. Twitter may be a private company but without the government’s gift of Section 230 they would not exist for long. I predicted this would happen. Anyway, we have been negotiating with various other sites and will have a big announcement soon, while we also look at the possibilities of building our own platform in the near future We will not be SILENCED! Twitter is not about free speech. They are all about promoting a radical left platform where some of the most vicious people in the world are allowed to speak freely.”
Avoiding the fact that this included the man standing in front of him, Orange Aide decides to change subjects.
“Sure thing Mr. President, sir.” Having lightened the mood they try to raise a very sensitive topic. “Mr. President, we need to talk about the inauguration.”
“No, we don’t.”
“I am afraid we do.”
“We don’t.”
“No, we do.”
“We don’t.”
“But, sir we do…”
“I’m not going…”
“What?”
“I am going to be away that day. I am not going.”
“But sir, all the Presidents go.”
“Not this one. It’s not about me and I am not going. The 75,000,000 great American Patriots who voted for me, AMERICA FIRST, and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN, will have a GIANT VOICE long into the future. They will not be disrespected or treated unfairly in any way, shape or form!!! So, I am not going!”
At that point both Orange Aide and Agent Orange hear a rumble outside. The door swings open and standing there is Mr Giuliani. Wearing a flak jacket, combat trousers and an NYPD baseball cap, he looks ridiculous. He is crying. “Mr. President, we need to run!”
Mr. Trump is aghast. “What are you doing?”
Mr. Giuliani continues, “They are coming to get us!!! There’s a guy with a funny hat, paint all over his body and animal skins on, that is in the Capitol!!! Run for your lives!!! We are under attack.”
With that, Mr. Giuliani, storms the desk, dives underneath it and starts to whimper.
Rather than scoff, Mr. Trump knows this reaction.
He has not seen it since he was first called up for the draft all those years ago.
It causes him to panic too.
He starts running around the room. Orange Aide and Agent Orange don’t know what to do and are about to start planning something when Mr. Trump also dives under the desk. He also starts whimpering.
As both Agent Orange and Orange Aide leave the room and the two whimpering figures under the table, they hear Mr. Trump telling Mr. Giuliani, not to worry, daddy will sort it all out and make everything all better…
Whilst the author asserts his right to this as an almost original tale, any similarities to persons real or imagined are deliberate. However as there is little or no evidence that Mr. Donald J Trump can fit under a desk, as far as he is aware, this is clearly fictional and never actually happened, though some of the words of Mr. Donald J Trump have been used…
During the week, President Donald J Trump was heard to be wholly proud and loving every minute of the insurrection he caused and allegedly called for. His exhortation to the group he addressed on Wednesday to march on Capitol Hill ended badly. Later he did ask the “good people” to leave peacefully. He is also not going to the inauguration and has suggested he might go to his golf courses in Scotland.
First Minister of Scotland, Nicola Sturgeon has told him not to bother – we’ll no be letting him in.
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