In a shocking turn of events, the world is today grappling with a frightening and previously unthinkable possibility: that Donald Trump is completely fucking winging it; and may even have lied at some stage. But it should be cautioned, these allegations have so far only been made by himself.
The horrifying possibility that Trump has been fabricating everything from his hairline to his waistline, comes in the wake of news breaking that the president purposely mislead Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau into thinking he was dealing with a normal, sane person who arrived in adulthood with an understanding of what constitutes truth and what is clearly a verifiable lie.
“Well, it really makes you wonder,” says a man in a torn and faded MAGA hat, wandering aimlessly down DC’s Pennsylvania Avenue, looking like someone who’s lost his dog; the weird one, that always seemed a little off, was forever chasing his tail, and couldn’t stop barking about fake news. “What else might he have been lying about?”
As a GOP oversight committee pours back over hours of material, it appears it could have been a great deal.
“Guys,” one fact-checker says, pushing his chair back and holding his head in amazement as he ponders the implications of what he’s just discovered. “Mexicans aren’t rapists.”
“I’m finding out we aren’t actually the highest taxed nation in the world,” shouts another from another corner. “I don’t even know what’s real anymore!”
“No sign of voter fraud in Clinton’s favour,” says a young man showing signs of going into shock, as the revelations begin to pile one on top of the other, coming fast and furiously now as everything is exposed. “Obama didn’t bug Trump Tower, Trump hasn’t signed the most legislation ever, Black unemployment isn’t at an all-time low, Black home ownership isn’t at an all-time high, the murder rate isn’t at peak, Trump does not enjoy tremendous support among women. Dear Lord.” The room falls silent, as someone gasps from a distant corner.
“His inauguration wasn’t the most watched ever.”
The silence holds for a moment, and then sheer pandemonium breaks out. People are shouting into phones and jumping on desks and throwing papers in the air. Someone pulls the fire alarm. The sprinkler system goes off.
“It’s all a lie,” says a man, huddled under his desk, on the phone to his wife, telling her he loves her and to lock herself in the house and that Donald Trump isn’t what he seems. Or rather, he is exactly what he seems.
“And somehow we missed it!”