The CIA is now under strict orders not to spy on anybody in Russia. But Britain’s MI6 faces no such restrictions! They have recently leaked to The Economist their surveillance video of Donald Trump’s meeting with Vladimir Putin. The complete transcript of the audio (the remaining ten minutes are untranslatable gagging noises) appears below, but the video is unavailable because The Economist’s editor banned it for being pornographic.
Donald Trump: “Oh my Vovochka! You’re such a man! Can I be your new best friend?”
Vladimir Putin: “Shut up and keep sucking.”
Sasha Grey, the Gag Queen, has officially abdicated her throne! “I’m not even half as debased as The Donald,” she sobbed, handing over her crown. But Donald Trump was magnanimous in accepting his new title as the Gag King. “Poor Sasha,” he lamented, shedding crocodile tears for his vanquished rival, “She just didn’t have anyone like my beloved Vovochka to inspire her to ever more shocking displays of degrading oneself.”
Mia Khalifa, whom Donald Trump picked as his ambassador to Lebanon, turned down the job. “At least Sasha had some class. The Gag King’s videos are just revolting,” Miss Khalifa explained, “The Lebanese people can accept my work in pornography more easily than they could ever accept my acting as an apologist for that pathological liar. Unlike Paul Ryan, I still have my soul.”
Ivanka Trump, pictured below, vowed to retaliate by ruining the careers of “aging” porn stars like Mia Khalifa. Ivanka’s bold plan? She would flood the market with underage girls captured from the houses of Democrats. When reminded that this is illegal, Ivanka just laughed, “The law? What’s that? I’m a Trump!” In an attempt to justify pedophilia
, she said the girls will “discover who they are” and that she will “give them security and safety and provide them with love and a reliable rock where they can’t speak to their parents.” When asked if her father, Donald Trump, believes in pedophilia too, Ivanka boasted, “I wouldn’t give nearly such good head if it wasn’t for him.”
In the meantime, while America was focused on the antics of the Gag King and his Lolita, Paul Ryan was giving boring speeches to an empty House complaining that it is impossible to add $100B to the military and law enforcement budget
without cutting entitlement programs. “Since taxing the rich is absolutely NOT an option, we’ll have to come up with the money some other way. We can gut health care coverage for the working poor and convince those gullible morons that, by revoking Obamacare, we are somehow helping them,” Paul Ryan suggested, “But to add $100B to the military and law enforcement budget, we will also have to screw the senile citizens. And schools, of course, are out; that we’re going to screw the kids goes without saying.”
These bean-counting speeches ended abruptly when the Gag King announced that he had raised $100B by selling houses, cars, work trucks, excavating equipment, restaurant appliances, etc. And the best part of all? Only Trumpkins in their red hats were allowed to bid at the auction! Where did the Gag King get all that stuff to sell? Illegal immigrants! And where are they now? Deported! And what’s with all the flies? No answer.
“Gosh! Who would have ever thought of selling confiscated property to raise money?” Paul Ryan wondered aloud. “Adolph Hitler,” a New York Times reporter very curtly informed him, “Hitler was the one who thought of how to make massive increases in the military and law enforcement budgets pay for themselves.” “Oh, um, cool!” Paul Ryan stammered, “As long as tax cuts for the rich are still top priority, then everything is A-Okay!”
In West Frankfort, Illinois, the Gag King was on hand for the grand re-opening of La Fiesta Mexican Restaurant. “Now managed by an American citizen of pure Aryan stock!” the Gag King boasted, making a gargling noise through a mouthful of Russian cum. But there were complaints from the customers: “Why does everything on the menu taste like chicken?” “Oh, my God!” a customer screamed, “I just found Elizabeth Hernandez’ wedding ring in my burrito!”
Kent Sublette was spotted perched on the window sill of his 5th floor office while clutching a newspaper to his chest with the headline, “KellyAnne Conway: Microwaves turn into cameras.”
“It’s no use,” he sobbed, “All of my skills as a comedy writer are for nothing.”
“What do you mean?” demanded the fire chief as he swayed perilously at the end of his extension ladder, “People love your show.”
“I spent all week working on a parody of Kellyanne Conway. I had her saying the most stupid things imaginable.”
“I bet it’ll be hilarious,” interjected the fire chief as his ladder ricocheted off the glass.
“It won’t,” sobbed Sublette as he emptied the contents of his briefcase into the air, “I can’t top what Kellyanne says in real life. Writing satire about Team Trump is like putting a fright wig on a gorilla to make it look more hairy.”
Just then, Mr. Sublette’s assistant stuck his head out the window and shouted, “It’s your wife, Sir! We’ve got her on speaker phone.”
Mrs. Sublette: “Kent! Get off that window sill! Just because Team Trump is more stupid than anything you can imagine, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing left for you to do. You know that old guy in your hometown who runs the laundromat?”
“The nice man who gave me lollipops when I was a little kid?”
“That’s the one! He’s retiring. Do you want to buy his business?”
“Okay,” shrugged Sublette as he crawled back through the window, “I guess I can learn the laundry business. As long as they keep putting a live mic in front of Kellyanne Conway, there’s really no further need for me here.”
“I believe in alternative facts. I do believe, I do believe,…” Sublette mumbled as he was led away to the padded van that would transport him back to his hometown, “Laundry men are not in the job of having evidence. They just regurgitate whatever they see on the boob tube.”
If this were a Saturday Night Live script, the camera would now show a wide view of the White House and then zoom in, go through a window, down a hallway to the elevator, get out in the basement, go past the boiler room and to an office with the name plate, “Evidence Guy” on the door. The camera goes inside and finds a decrepit office in disarray with the in-box stacked three feet high and nothing in the out-box. A red-nosed man with a bushy grey beard and wearing a rumpled suit is hiding under the desk; he is clutching an open bottle of whiskey.
“Are you the man whose job it is to have the evidence?”
“Um – hic! – I guess so. What’s up?”
The camera rotates 180° to a microwave oven sitting on a shelf. The camera rotates 180° again and we are viewing the man under the desk through the microwave oven door. The camera zooms out to show the back of the microwave and then it rotates 180° to reveal a lavish office trimmed in gold with a highly polished oak desk, leather furniture and original oil paintings on the wall. Ivanka Trump [Scarlett Johansson] is sitting on Donald Trump’s [Alec Baldwin’s] lap. They are dressed and posed exactly like in the following photo. Ivanka has waist-length blonde hair, red top, blue jeans and highly-polished high-heel boots. Donald is dressed head-to-toe in white clothing, like a big-shot cocaine dealer, except that now he is wearing a white “Make America Great Again” hat.
Ivanka Trump: “Oh Daddy, but we’re not allowed to do Predator drone strikes inside the United States. Maybe, instead of blowing up the SNL studio with a Hellfire missile, you could just imprison the head writer.”
Donald Trump: “I’ll send him to Siberia!”
Ivanka Trump: “Um, that’s in Russia. You can’t send people there anymore now that you’re back here in the United States.”
Donald Trump: “What do we have here that’s worse than Siberia?”
Ivanka Trump: “Send him to Nevada. It’s a wasteland, you know.”