Trump: Lost In Translation

Written by Stefano M. Stefano

Saturday, 22 July 2017

American President Donald Trump recently visited France for Bastille Day festivities, and took the time out from his busy schedule of insulting C-List celebrities on Twitter to sit down with the French media.

It was not a good idea.

Believing that he didn't need an interpreter ("They all look stupid and too foreign," Trump bellowed), and that French was easily translated by his vast intelligence ("I know all the best words...all the best French words!"), he had a go at the only newspaper that would waste ink on him, namely 'La Bouche Francais'.

Below is a sample of the interview, with English translation added for the benefit of those not skilled in French (ie. about 84 % of us).

"Bonjour, le Président Trump. Vous êtes à la recherche très orange aujourd'hui. Un manifestant a fait jeter des peinture orange à vous?"

(Hello, President Trump. You are looking very orange today. Did a protester throw orange paint at you?)

Trump; "Uh...thank you? Uh. Yes? Tremendous!"

"Décririez-vous votre visage comme une face de porc ou une pincée ?

(Would you describe your face as a pig face or a pinch face?)

Trump: "Well, I...what did you say? Never mind. I know two of those Frog words. I mean, French things. My answer is...the answer would be...Everyone knows that's true! Make America great again! You know, back when we had slaves and crap in the 1940's."

"Pourquoi vous vous asseyez sur chaque chaise que vous prenez une décharge dans les toilette?"

(Why do you sit on every chair like you are taking a dump in the toilet?)

Trump: "Yes, I use toiletries. I like soap. And lots and lots and lots of ozone-killing hairspray! This is fun! Next question, Jacques!"

"A PETA a lancé une poursuite contre vous pour avoir porté une belette morte sur votre tête en public?"

(Has PETA launched a lawsuit against you for wearing a dead weasel on your head in public?)

Trump: "Errrr....yes. The Democrats wouldn't do that, but I will. Always."

And so it went until the Secret Service walked out of the room, when they were offered coffee and croissants.

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

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