Written by Samuel Vargo
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Thursday, 3 March 2016

image for Donald Trump: "I'm Anointing The Motor City Madman as my Sergeant-at-Arms!"

Donald Trump announced yesterday while he was on the campaign trail that he is "Anointing the Motor City Madman as my Sergeant-at-Arms."

Ted Nugent, who was unavailable for comment yesterday and early today, may or may not accept the anointing from the Republican front runner.

Trump's campaign has been a very unconventional one. And although the U.S. Senate has always employed a Sergeant-at-Arms, who is also the official doorkeeper, the U.S. President has never appointed, or actually, as Trump refers to it, "anointed", a Sergeant-at-Arms.

This reporter caught up with Trump at an airport in an undisclosed city as he was getting off his private jet with a large entourage of pencilheads, weaseldicks, and blonde bimbos. So I asked Trump about anointing Mr. Nugent to his Presidential Cabinet.

"I feel Ted will fit in well with the Cabinet I'm putting together. I'm either going to anoint Sarah Palin as my Vice Presidential candidate or once I'm elected, I'm anointing her as my Secretary of State. With her keen wit and her diplomatic skills and tactfulness, I feel the former Alaskan Governor will do well. Hell's bells, man, if she ends up divorced, I may even anoint her as my First Lady," Trump said.

It's unclear what a Sergeant-at-Arms' duties will be in a Presidential Cabinet, since there has never been one before. When asked about this, Trump snorted a bit, huffed and puffed, blew out his chest like a prehistoric raptor, then hit his fist on a brick wall.

"How in the hell am I supposed to know what my Sergeant-at-Arms will be responsible for?! Do I look like Dan Rather or Walter Cronkite?! Just who in the hell are you to be asking me these questions, Charlie Tuna?!"

Trump collected himself a bit, then hissed, "You're a nobody. The Spoof, what's that? Is it a shopper selling fishing lures or after-market parts of VW's? Mark, your Editor-In-Chief, I've never heard of her! Go take a flying fuck at the moon, you bottom-feeding lowlife! Guard! Guard! Get this scumbag out of here!"

With that, I skedaddled quickly. I know when I'm not welcome and Trump's caustic nature and varicose vitriol is like a volcano erupting. Or a bomb train flying off a track and exploding, taking 15 cars with it in fiery annihilation.

Trump ran after me as I was at a full sprint and grabbed me by the arm as I was about ready to duck into a nearby parking deck. He snorted: "Listen to me, you asshole, I'm anointing Ted as my Sergeant-at-Arms because I like him. He's cool. And he's as wacky and insane as I am. I don't particularly care for his music, but I appreciate his ability to strum a guitar. He's an accomplished guitar player. And no, none of Ted's songs, like "Cat Scratch Fever", "The Great White Buffalo", or "Stranglehold" will ever become my official campaign song. I don't like that sort of music. But Sarah Palin informed me that Nazareth's "Hair of the Dog" may be a good pick."

"But Mr. Trump, that's a horrible song. That's hardly fitting for a Presidential candidate to play," this reporter said. "It's like a song some reprobate rednecks would play before a chicken fight or an unsanctioned, bare-knuckle brawl out at some honky-tonk saloon in the middle of the sticks."

"That's exactly why I'm choosing it, dumbass. It fits in well with the general theme of my campaign. And the song sort of sums up my general attitude, my total disregard for anyone or anything, and my total lack of tactfulness and niceness."

"And if Ted learns to play that song on his guitar and if he can sing that blasted thing, we'll make his version my official campaign song," Trump snorted.

I ran into the parking deck, wheezed a bit, took a big whiff off my inhaler, and jumped into my rental car and took off.

In an effort to clear up some collateral damage, Trump's press agent hurriedly put together a press release for the duties of a Presidential Sergeant-at-Arms and here is the list of the office's responsibilities:

1) Open the door of the Oval Office for the new Emperor.

2) Play a ukulele at formal Presidential galas and for more informal Presidential gatherings, pick a banjo or saw on a fiddle.

3) Be as obnoxious and as overbearing as possible to anyone interrupting the Emperor while he has a "DO NOT DISTURB" sign perched on the Oval Office door."

4) Wear a suit and a tie once a week. Maybe even twice a week. Dress in overalls the rest of the time, particularly on dress-down Humpdays and Fridays. Always be well shaven and always comb your hair, except when the wind's blowing like holy hell.

5) Treat widows and orphans with some respect and dignity, but let's not overdo it. Don't worry much about handicapped people. But if these widows and orphans get sarcastic or act unruly, it's okay to snap and snarl a lot. And if handicapped people get smart with you, kick them around and rough them up a lot.

6) Carry a machine gun around on the capital grounds to let everyone know who's boss. You know who the Boss is, don't you?

7) Always be nice to Ku Klux Klan members.

8) Always be nice to the NRA.

9) Always be nice to the Tea Party, but never be nice to Charlie or David Koch if they happen to show up sometime outside the Oval Office. "The Donald" doesn't like them much and the Koch Brothers feel about the same way about Donald Trump, your boss and our first Emperor.

10) Work every other holiday for time and a half. Get paid double time for pagan holidays. It's okay to gamble, but do it discreetly. Ditto for drinking on the job or playing around with women. Don't use any sort of drugs. The Emperor doesn't approve of such nonsense.

- This was the fax that awaited me at my hotel. The clerk handed it to me. So there you have it, an exclusive that was missed by the mainstream media.

Make Samuel Vargo's day - give this story five thumbs-up (there's no need to register, the thumbs are just down there!)

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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