Trump Does Canada Part 2 – Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

Three months into President Trump’s first term, Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau attends the first official meeting of the two leaders, in the White House Oval Office. Media wags dubbed it the Blow-Dry Summit. The president chuckled to himself the first time he read that. Yeah, hair today, gone tomorrow, pretty boy, he thought.

“Mr. President, congratulations on your victory,” the boyishly charming Canadian prime minister said at his first official call on President Donald Trump. “The American people have embraced your message and your business experience. I’m looking forward to a productive, business-like relationship.”

“Welcome to the new Trump W House,” the president beamed. “How do you like what we’ve done with the place? Taken an 18th-century pile of rubble and turned it into a real five-star, luxury seat of government, fit for a king.”

Trudeau had seen the gold dome that had been added atop the south portico, emblazoned with “TRUMP W,” and a half-dozen coloured lasers shooting off into space. A little much for his taste but maybe he was just being too Canadian.

“We’re going to add two rows of fountains down the south lawn. It’s going to be spectacular. This is going to be the best seat of government in the world. Someone’s finally giving the American people what they deserve.”

“Yes, umm, yes, that is really something,” Trudeau said.

“Yeah, those W Hotel people tried to sue us for trademark infringement but they are going to be busy, what with being audited for the last seven years.”

After a photo opp and brief social niceties, President Trump stood.

“Hey, I have an idea. I’ll bet you’ve never seen the W’s Situation Room. Let’s finish our first meeting down there. It will be historic.”

Trump moved to a door in the curved wall of the Oval office and waved Trudeau to follow. The president led the way down a corridor from the Oval Office. A pair of Marine guards on either side of the door to the Situation Room, sharp in their dress blue tunics and black-brimmed white hats, snapped to attention. Their commander in chief waved a half-hearted salute in return and one of the Marine guards unhooked the burgundy velvet rope that hung between two brass stands in front of the door. Trump led the young PM into the room.

“No cover charge for heads of state.”

“Very impressive,” said the young prime minister, looking at a wall covered in monitors and streaming information. “But it seems we may be interrupting a meeting.”

In fact, it seemed most of President Trump’s new Cabinet was seated around a large boardroom table. Tall, busty waitresses in tiny Roman togas served cocktails.

“No, no interruption. This meeting is for you.”

“Cocktails in the afternoon? Are we celebrating?”

“Well, I guess we will be, but the cocktails are just part of my new plan to make the Trump W into a profit centre. There’s a three-drink minimum for meetings here. What will you start with? We’ve got an amber TrumpAle. Maybe Some TrumPinot. Or we can go right to the TrumPain. Can’t spell it like champagne because the French get mad, and we don’t want that. But mine is much better, anyway.”

“I’ll stick with water, thanks.”

“Okay, but we have to charge you for the drinks. Rules are rules. Tracy, will you get Justin a cold TrumpAgua?”

The Situation
“Justin, may I call you Justin? Better than calling you Jeb, what a boob,” he laughed. “You probably know I’m a straight shooter. That’s what the American people expect from me and that’s what works best, so I’m just going to come right out and say what’s on my mind.”

“Of course, Mr. President. Let’s do politics different than our predecessors. Let’s just be honest with each other.”

“Justin, I like you. I met your mom once at Studio 54 and she was hot. I probably had sex with her. I had sex with all the hot ones, you know, with my big hands. Hey, maybe you’re my son. Wouldn’t that be something? Could be. People think you’re hot, so maybe you got that from me. But I don’t think so because the truth is, you’re a loser. No offense. You’re a loser from a loser-nation. So I’m going to bring you onto a winning team. The United States is going to take over Canada and you’re all going to be winners.. We’re all going to be one big happy family. You can even call me dad. I promised to make America great again and there’s no reason Canada can’t be a part of Greater America.”

Trudeau felt like his head was spinning. Maybe there’s something in the TrumpAgua, he thought. Maybe he’s still at home in bed at 24 Sussex.

To be continued…

(To see Part I, http://bitly.com/29ZrDTa)

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Sophie’s Husband’s Choice Part I, The Secret Agent

“You betcha,” said Vice President Sarah Palin, rising from her chair in the Oval Office. “You can count on me, Mr. President.”

Barely a month into his term, President Donald Trump had just brought his new vice president in on the first of what he promised the American people would be a steady stream of audacious actions that will make America great again. (Former Vice President Mike Pence turned out to be a little too Christ-y to be useful. “I’m a Christian, Conservative and Republican, in that order? Not in my White House.” )

Pres. Trump had already announced that Americans are now safer than they have ever been, government is leaner than it has ever been, Hillary is more imprisoned than she has ever been, and he has been awarded a double Nobel Peace Prize, which is more than twice as good as a regular one. His popularity was at an all-time high, according to Chief of Staff Ivanka Trump. Now it’s time to do something bigger than any president had ever done. Something huge.

On the campaign trail, Trump focused on building a wall to keep Mexicans out. Playing to fears of rapists, murderers, terrorists and the browning of America by illegal immigrants, Trump’s wall-power carried him to victory.

And it served as a classic misdirection. He always knew the real value is in Canada. The Mexican wall was a diversion. Grab that northern oil wealth and it will be true energy independence for America. No more making nice with sheiks and mad men (although that Vlad knows how to have fun. Vlad the Impaler, that’s a good one. Note to self, keep him away from Ivanka.) The next Arab country that sends a terrorist onto American soil will experience retribution on a biblical scale, if the bible had nuclear winter.

“It was the giant Yao Ming who said ‘Only powerful people have liberty,'” the president told his veep. “Have you ever seen a powerful Canadian? I mean, those people are a joke. You know most people don’t know I beat Yao in a game of HORSE. True story. He’s got a terrible set shot. An absolute loser. But I don’t tell that story because I’m a humble guy. The stories I could tell…

“Anyway, we are going to do what that stupid loser Mr. Dolly Madison was too incompetent to do in 1812. We’re going to take over Canada,” the president told Palin. “It’s an insult to the great American patriots who kicked British butts off our soil. An insult to George Washington, Abe Vigoda, John Kennedy, the Beatles.

“And it’s a threat to America’s greatness. You’ve got jihadi johnnies just lined up in the woods along the border, pulling on their long-john bombs over their mukluks and firing up their suicide dogsleds to destroy our great country. You know I won the I-Did-A-Rod dogsled race three years in a row. I had to stop competing because losing so much was making the Eskimos depressed. Whole towns stopped eating their blubber. It was so sad, really. Anyway, you’re going to help me put down Canada, like so many Ben Carsons going down for a nap.”

“You betcha, I am, Mr. President. That country is a queer and present danger” Vice President Palin responded. “Pot-smoking, homosexual-loving, beaver-hat-wearing bunch of terrorist sympathizers, each and every one. Might as well call it Koranada. Not God-fearin’, child-rearin,’ American beerin’ folk like you and me, that’s for dang sure. I don’t know what they believe in but it ain’t the red, white and blue, or granny’s butterscotch pudding or our lord and savior Jesus H. Christ. What do you want me to do, Mr. President?”

“That’s great, that’s great, you’re a real American. When the time comes, Sarah, you’re going to be our secret weapon. Our neutron bomb with a fantastic rack. And I have seen all of the best racks in the world. I have seen racks that are so huge they’re in different time zones. Really, that’s absolutely true, but the lying media won’t report it. So, we’ll send you on a cross-Canada “Be-A-Part-of-Great” tour and you’ll Stockholm Syndrome those moose-sucking American wannabes. They’ll be lining up for their U.S. passports and Obamacare Lite cards while we drain every last drop of oil and water out of that dump. You can ride a snowmobile can’t you?”

“Can an Eskimo squeeze wine outta berry-season grizzly scat? You betcha, Mr. President. In Alaska we call it the Babymaker. A six-pack of Bud tall boys and a Skidoo with heated seats.”

The president stood and motioned Vice President Palin to the door. What was I thinking with that Pence idiot, he wondered. “We’ll be in touch,” he said, dismissing Palin. “This is going to be like taking a nomination from an idiot.”

Stayed tuned for Part II, “The-Hair-Today-Gone-Tomorrow Summit”

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