Operation: Stable Genius Warped on Speed

I am imagining Trump as Cadet Bone Spurs at the helm of the Starship Aspiration. Its four-year mission is to toss out every mind-numbing idea for a Coronavirus cure that slides out of his fecal-packed colon.

Cadet Bone Spurs: “Mr. Kushner, chart course for Planet Vaccine. We need to get there before November. Warp Speed 5. Make it so, Number Two.”

Mr. Kushner: “Dad, you said you wouldn’t call me that anymore. I want to be Number One.”

Cadet Born Spurs: “Oh, alright, Number One. Warp Speed 5. Make it so.”

Mr. Kushner: “I can’t, sir.”

Cadet Bone Spurs: “What? Why the fuck not.”

Mr. Kushner: “The Aspiration is the Hyundai, stripped-down version of a starship. Top speed is only 75 MPH.”

Cadet Bone Spurs sees Lt. Ivanka walk by in her mini-skirt Starship uniform.

Cadet Bone Spurs. “Lt. Ivanka, bend over and pick up that clipboard you dropped on the floor.”

Lt. Ivanka: “I didn’t drop my clipboard. I’m holding it right here in my hands.”

Cadet Bone Spurs flings his clipboard on the floor in front of Lt. Ivanka.

Cadet Bone spurs: “Pick up that one.”

Lt. Ivanka bends over to pick up the clipboard exposing her tight little ass. The crew swoons in unison. The starship veers sharply off course.

Cadet Bones Spurs: Goddammit, that booty shot was for me. Get back to your stations. Scotty, this is the Cadet. Scotty can you hear me? Scotty.”

A bark comes over the speaker.

Lt. Kushner: “that’s the Scottish Terrier dog, Scotty, sir. You want the ship’s engineer, Scrotum.”

Cadet Bone Spurs: “Scrotum, come in.”

Scrotum: “Engineer Scrotum here, sir.”

Cadet bone Spurs: “Scrotum, we need more power. We need Warp Speed 5, now.”

Scrotum: “I can’t do it, sir. If I try and install one more rubber band to our propellers, she’s gonna blow.”

Cadet Bone spurs: “Well fine. I’ll have to give another news conference.”

Starship Aspiration returns to Earth and lands on white House Lawn. Cadet Bone Spurs exits starship and steps up to the microphones.

Cadet Bone spurs: “We came tremendously close to Planet Vaccine. But as you all know, Obama left us with empty cupboards.   He took all the office supplies too, so we didn’t have enough rubber bands to complete our mission.”

Black Female Reporter: “sir, African Americans want to know what you are going to do for the Black Community.”

Cadet Bone Spurs: “Well as you know, all African Americans love Trump. Even the cannibals in the Congo call me and say: Sir, please come to the Congo and sit in our royal hot tub with the carrots, onions celery, and bay leaves floating in it.”

Black Female Reporter: “The new program for African Americans, sir?”

Cadet Bone spurs: “Oh yeah, I’ve been working tremendously closely with Jesse Jackson. In the next couple of weeks, maybe sooner, maybe never, in partnership with Jackson’s Rainbow Coalition, I am furnishing every colored male his own personal rainbow to follow him around when he is jogging somewhere, he doesn’t belong.”

Black Female Reporter: “What good will that do?”

Cadet Bone Spurs: “It’s for protection.”

Black Female Reporter: “Protection?”

Cadet Bone spurs: “Yeah, protection. No Irish cop worth his weight in whiskey would ever shoot a colored kid with a rainbow around him.”

Black Female Reporter: “Why not?”

Cadet Bone Spurs: “Bad luck. Pisses off the Leprechaun’s when there’s Negro blood in their bowl of Lucky Charms.”

Black Female Reporter: “Thank you. Thank you very much.”

She takes off her shoes, throws them at Cadet bone Spurs, gives him the finger, turns and leaves.