“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.
“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.”
“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.”