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After a week of taking it on the chin via the Democratic National Convention, Monday night Donald Trump and his bizarre troupe of relatives and enablers get to take center stage. While Joe Biden let a group of media stars like Bill Clinton and Barak and Michelle Obama make the case for him, it’s not surprising that Trump et al plan to go another route.
First, the Donald apparently plans to be on camera every night. Is this a surprise? How could we endure an entire evening without looking upon his beautiful punim? Second, it will be all-family-all-the-time. Among the main speakers will be lovable and handsome Don Jr, articulate Eric, the beautiful and sexy Ivanka (Trump has noted that he’d date her if she weren’t his daughter), and of course the Slovenian beauty Melania. We are told that even Tiffany Trump, the long lost Trump child, has been coerced to come out of hiding and try to find something good to say about her Dear Daddy.
Given important voices such as these, we are told that there just wasn’t time enough to give much of the stage to guys like Mitch McConnell and Devin Nunes, men who’ve sold their souls and protected his back through all Trump’s duplicity and incompetence. Representative Tim Scott made the marquee, as the token Black. Isn’t it surprising that he’s the only man of color willing to speak on Trump’s behalf in light of the fact that the Donald has done more for African-Americans than any other President, including Lincoln. Also making the cut is House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy. How fitting that he’s the man who has accused Joe Biden of nepotism.
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But so much for reality. My fantasy is so much more fun. It’s about Melania, and although she is a sexy lady, it’s not that sort of fantasy.
Monday afternoon, the day before she is to address the nation on her hubby’s behalf, Melania comes to Donald and says, “Trumpy, I no can do thees. You know I hate to speak in big crowd, you know I don’t have anything to say. Last time, they write things that sound good, but they plagiarize them from that Michelle lady, and I get in big troubles.”
“Melania, Melania, Melania. Don’t worry. We fired those suckers a long time ago and this time we’ve hired some great writers to put words in your mouth. All you have to do is to look it over for a couple of minutes the day before, and when you come out that night, just read from the teleprompter. That’s what I do. Smile a little, give them that famous down-turned look—you know, the one that drives me crazy—and that’s it. You give me so little, not even a role in the hay for the past year. So just do this one itty-bitty thing for me.”
“I no like it, Donny. But you must promise not to even touch me for seex month, not even that little hold-my-hand theeng you like to try in public.”
“Okay, Melania. None of that. And I won’t even sneak in a single hooker this month. It’s a promise. You know you can trust me.”
Tuesday night, the beautiful and mysterious Melania takes the stage, in her trademark stiletto heels and wearing a gown that costs the annual budget of Minnesota. Looking out at the camera, she begins, “I am so honored to be here tonight to tell you about a wonderful man and the greatest President of the United States ever. Donald Trump is a great husband and loving fath—no, no I cannot go on lying. He cheats. He no care about anything but heemself. He bad father. Not even good in bed—”
Screams of “Cut” go off in the background, and the screen goes black, as do Trump’s hopes of re-election.
Welcome to the Republican National Convention. Everyone deserves a little fantasy now and then, no?
