Yamiche Alcindor,
White House correspondent for the PBS News Hour and the bane of Trump’s news
conference existence, questioned the Incredible Hoax President.
Alcindor: “Mr.
President, how do you feel about the murder of George Floyd?”
Trump: “Look, the
MAGA people love the Blacks. I love the Blacks. No one has done more for the
Blacks than me. Have you noticed all the Black lawn jockeys on the White House
lawn? No one is writing about that. I have the highest number of Black lawn
Jockeys on the White House lawn since Woodrow Wilson.”
Alcindor: “But,
specifically, sir, what about the murder of George Floyd by that Minneapolis
police officer? Can you speak directly to my question?”
Trump: “MY administration
has also strongly condemned minstrels shows. No one hates banjo music more than
me. Meanwhile, watermelon sales are at a record high and I consume more fried chicken
than the entire NBA.”
Alcindor: “Please,
sir, what about George Floyd?”
Trump: “Look, nobody
cared when Lloyd George was killed as far as I know, George Floyd was not a
member of the House of Lords, neither the Lord Jesus nor Traci Lords. But I
love me some Black folks. Yeowzer, yeowzerr, brother. I love black singers,
like Smokin’ Joe Robin Hood and, of course, I eat fried chicken by the lovin’
shovelful. I hear the darker the beery, the sweeter the juice. I get tested for
Jungle Fever every day, but I am looking very strongly at Halle Berry. Who
would have thought Wallace Berry would have produced such a hot hunk of brown
sugar.”
Alcindor: “Mr.
President, that’s Wallace Beery, not Berry. But again, what about
police brutality? What about excessive force by the police in black
communities? What about the murder of George…”?
Trump (interrupts):
“Okay, that’s enough. You’re a very rude, horrible, unattractive person, who
should be taking Halle Berry Pills.”
Alcindor: “There’s no
such thing as Halle Berry Pills. Believe me, if there were, I’d be taking them
by the lovin’ spoonful.”
Trump: “I’ve got
Jared forming a pharmaceutical commission to look into it.”
Alcindor: “when can
we expect a report?”
Trump: “As soon as he
gets peace in the Middle East, streamlines the government and finds a cure for
the Yellow Slopehead Virus.”
Alcindor: “In other
words…never.”
Trump: “You are a
failure as a reporter.”
Alcindor: “What about
police brutality in the black community?”
Trump: “Okay, missy.
You want to talk about brutality. Rugby! Now that is brutal. But rugby players
never complain about brutality. You know why?”
Alcindor: “I’m
holding my breath.”
Trump: “Because there
are no black rugby players. Maybe if that stone-cold loser QB, Colin
Kopperhead, took a knee on your neck, you’d understand.”
Trump makes a face
and begins to pass gas.
Press Secretary: “OK, EVERBODY, CLEAR THE ROOM!”
Several white House
staffers take out cans of Air Freshener and begin to spray the room. A
departing reporter is seen by a staffer beginning to strike a match to light
his cigarette.
Staffer: “DO NOT
LIGHT THAT MATCH!”
FLASH! KA-BOOM!
A huge flaming
fireball explodes out of Trump’s ass. A firestorm engulfs the White House and
it burns down into a smoldering pile of ashes.
That night on HBO’s
“Real Time” with Bill Maher.
Bill Maher: “well,
someone finally figured out a way to get Trump out of the White House…. turn
him into a charcoal briquette.”
Trump’s favorite
Smokin’ Joe robin Hood tune…and mine.
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