Hiding out in the White House basement Bunker, President Trump decided he needed some help. Everything seems to have gone wrong for him ever since his big sister stopped doing his homework. Lacking an education - studying is for losers -
Trump has galloped, using his instincts.
Those instincts found him down in the White House basement Bunker, where he put in an emergency telephone call to Barack Obama asking for help.
“Sasha, it was funny the first time, but not the fourth time.”
“No, no, it’s really, really me, Barack, your friend Donald Trump. The man that followed you into the White House. The country is going down this shit hole, and flushing won’t make it right again, and I really, really need your help, for the good of the world and the United States of America. Are you with me?”
Obama hung up. Then he mentioned to Michelle that Sasha was getting better with her Donald Trump imitation. “Although she’s making him sound too much like Sally Fields. And her metaphors are a disgrace.”
The telephone rang again. The same voice asked whether he had reached the Obama residence.
“Yes.”
“Don’t hang up. My life matters, too, Barack. Get me out of this coronavirus crap, and help me restore the economy, so I can go out a winner. I promise I won’t run for reelection. Joe Biden can have this shit-hole-cesspool-god-damn-crap game, filled with nothing but sons-of-bitches, and I want Biden to give me a full pardon from all past, present and future crimes or misdemeanors, and I’ll give you Mar-a-Lago in return. Are you f_ _ _ _ _ g with me?”
“You’re not getting any allowance this month.”
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