Milkforce and I snuck into the Trump Rally at Two Forks, Tennessee. We brought Stosh Armstrong with us for protection in case they started throwing punches. Stosh kept a low profile, staying about ten feet behind us in the crowd. It's not that he wasn't noticed. It's hard not to notice a six foot seven Canadian lumberjack with bad teeth and mediocre health. He just kept his distance from us so people wouldn't think we were together.
Twin Forks, Tennessee, for those who don't know, is a hotbed of Trump supporters in the southern section of the western part of the Northeastern District of Tennessee. It is anticipated that all their delegates will vote for Trump. We knew we were in for a treat and possibly physical threats. But we never anticipated what actually happened.
In front of the front rows milled the militia, whose duty including protecting Trump from the media and any liberal thugs who crawled in under the edge of the big top. The sawdust on the floor was a nice touch, especially when some of Trump's supporters had a little too much of the peppermint flavored moonshine for sale at the snack stands. The sawdust absorbed everything and then the clean-up crews swept it up and hauled it away. It also made for a convenient place to throw our peanut shells and rinds. I told Milkforce not to eat the things they referred to as "cracklin'", but he didn't listen. When I told him what it was, before it was cracklin', well, let's just say that the clean-up crew was on the ball.
Off to the right of the middle ring, in front of the stands, a brass band dressed in red pinstripes and flat straw hats with red, white and blue ribbons played a non-stop barrage of marching tunes. It really lifted the spirits of the folks there. I have to admit that Milkforce and I were caught up in the martial mood.
When the parade started, we jumped in behind the third elephant, right in front of the half-naked eastern European girls standing on horses. It turns out elephants are no more modest than horses when it comes to certain bodily functions and, once again, Milkforce and I had reason to be thankful for the sawdust covered floors and the clean-up crews. Between the elephants and the horses, they had their hands full.
At the back of the parade was a rather stubborn donkey. He wore a blond wig and bore on his back a bald clown dressed in a wrinkled and oversized suit. It kept trying to circle clockwise when the rest of us were circling counter-clockwise. Sometimes, it bolted to the front of the line.
Apparently, the lead elephant was ready to breed (we learned later that her name was Nancy). The donkey ran to the front of the line, jumped up and tried to do his duty. The fact that he was four feet too short didn't stop him from wearing out the elephant's back left heel. She had to shake him off a couple of times. At one point, the bald clown on the donkey's back got stuck under her tail and some other clowns had to pull him out. Everyone, except the skinny bald clown, had a healthy guffaw over that - even the donkey with the blond wig.
Trump himself straddled Nancy's neck. Like a good horse, the elephant was sensitive enough to be guided by his knee pressure. No one had explained that to Trump. Every time Trump turned around to wave at the eastern European girls on the horses, Nancy tried to follow his direction and turn around. Her trainer would then have to pull her back to the front of the parade. After the third time, she started to get pissed off. Now, it's one thing to have a little fun dry humping an elephant like the donkey with the blond wig and bald clown, but you don't ever want to piss one off because you can't make up your mind about the direction you want to go.
Trump inadvertently kept trying to go one way and the elephant the other. It became a battle of wills. Fortunately for Trump, Nancy would not pull her lead rope out of her trainer's hands. Later we learned from the trainer that while Nancy was a little pig headed, in the end she followed her training. She had learned her lessons well as a young elephant and never challenged authority no matter how mad she got or how stupid the person trying to direct her movements was.
However, she did shake Trump off her back halfway through the second time around the big top. As previously reported, the clean-up crews had their hands full and were very busy. Well, they hadn't gotten to all of the elephants' leavings. If you've never seen what an elephant leaves behind, well, you've missed quite a site.
Nancy twisted and shook her head, and Trump found himself flying through the air. There was a communal scream by the populace who thought their favorite might break his neck. Luckily, his fall was cushioned by a large pile of Nancy's leavings. Trump fell in head first and was instantly covered from head to toe with the elephant's excrement. Somehow, this smell was too enticing for the donkey with the blond wig and skinny bald clown on its back to resist. Abandoning all decorum, while Trump was on all fours trying to extract himself from the excrement, the donkey leapt on him with all of the amorous energy it could muster.
Fortunately, there were no shots fired. The militia rushed over from its position between the press and everyone else and were able to discourage the rigidly determined donkey with a fire hose. Said hose was then used to wash down Trump as his adoring fans applauded. It should be noted, to the discouragement of all in opposition to Trump that, in spite of being coated from head to toe with excrement from an elephant and then being soaked to the skin with a fire hose, he never lost his characteristic aplomb nor did his suit lose its crease. His hair, however, appeared to shrink several inches.
We were fortunate enough to be near the spot he landed. I can tell you that upon his revival he pointed to his crowd of fans, smiled and then laughed. They laughed with him. Then he reached down, took a big handful of elephant excrement, wadded it up like a snowball and heaved it at the crowd. He pointed at his advisors and even the militia and ordered them to grab handfuls, too. Eventually, even the clean-up crew joined.
Amid spasms of laughter, Trump and his entire entourage pelted the crowd with elephant excrement balls until all the ammunition was exhausted. I have to admit that Milkforce and I also threw a few "crap balls" at the crowd. Stosh remained his stoic self, refusing to dirty his hands. He watched over us, ready to protect us if needed.
His crowd of supporters was delighted to be covered by so much crap delivered in such a jovial manner and left the Big Top swearing allegiance to Trump. We will continue to report on these rallies and other election highlights right after we take a shower.
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Trebor Legov is an undercover investigative journalist. His ability to do his job is based, in some part, on his ability to remain unknown and unnoticed, even in a crowd. He and his team may be contacted only through this website. Please direct all comments to him here as he is generally in the field. He prides himself in responding to his fans within three to six months at the latest.