The first ever Deplorable Writing Prompt (DWP – tm) comes from a Disqus user calling themself paendragon who wrote in response to the WorldNetDaily article titled You’re Hired! Trump Elected President:

 

paendragon

Oh, what a week. KFC buckets and Arby’s wrappers piled up on the carpet of the Oval Office intermingling with unread memoranda. A half-eaten Taco Bell gordita remained on the corner of the Resolute desk where Bannon had strategically placed it a day earlier for a picture he Instagrammed #hispanicoutreach. With a sweep of his wide arm and a dismissive flutter of his fingers Trump knocked the stale thing to the ground where it landed upon an binder full of potential cabinet appointments which had never been opened.

Trump looked square down at his desk where a yellow sticky note was affixed in the dead center. His honey-do list. Apparently Speaker Ryan was immune to his awesome executive powers. At least, that’s what he took away from the tense three solid minutes of silence that followed when he had called the man into this very office on his first day and told him, “Get outta here. I’m saying it to you now. Leave my city, okay? I don’t know. Go back to Minnesota. You’re fired.” Eventually, after a more than necessary amount of blinking, Paul Ryan simply said, “Have a good day, Mr. President” and walked out.

Something similar had happened with Director Comey on the phone earlier that morning. “Listen, Comey. Don’t ask me, but people are saying, you know, we gotta jail Hillary. We just got to. Hey, get Obama while you’re at it. Deport him. Loretta Lynch, James Comey, Eric Holder that whole DOJ gang. I’m telling you, jail, jail jail!”

And he didn’t even want to think about what the laughter, LAUGHTER!, he heard on TV’s broadcasting their late night shows after he announced that he had already pulled America out of every international trade agreement and had replaced Obamacare with TrumpMD, the best medical system ever, just beautiful.

At least bidding had begun on The Wall. God bless The Wall, like, Two Corinthians kind of blessings. It was going to be beautiful when it was done. Sure, he was paying for it out of pocket since Congress refused to release emergency funds. Scumbags. But it was worth it. Especially if The Wall came out all crappy and he ended up not having to pay Garcia & Sons for the masonry. But that could wait. The estimate said it was a 12 year project. Trump could wait. By his reckoning if the work was finished on time he would be able to unveil it in the middle of his third re-election campaign. Boy would his poll numbers spike after that.

Trump picked up a gold Sharpie and twiddled it between his fingers. Damn it, The Wall was great, but he needed something now. Something he could really shove in the elite’s collective face. Something big and flashy that would prove he had arrived. That he mattered. That he was huge. Trump fixated on the list.

ISIS, huh? Okay, ISIS.

He shouted out the open Oval Office door to his secretary. “Hey, hey you. Get me those, what are they? Those launch codes. Come on, come on, hurry. Do I have to grab you by the whatever? What’s the damn password or whatever for the nukes?

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