NEW YORK, NEW YORK — During his weekly “catch up” call with his father, Eric Trump suggested that they should perhaps start a charity for COVID-19 patients.
“Daddy! Diddums! I had an idea, and I know you’ve told me my whole life how bad my ideas compared to yours, and how, really, I should just shut up because I remind you of how little you believe you’re actually my father,” Eric began the call, “but I think I’ve got this idea that you might bigly like!”
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President Trump, in the White House presidential residence’s bathroom, scratched his left thigh. He rolled his eyes as his son spoke. It was true; he’d never actually thought this particular crotch fruit of his would wind up doing much of anything important, or good for that matter. He never really did completely believe that it was his sperm that had made Eric. But, over the years he has learned to just placate Eric, because that’s easier than convincing him to keep his stupid mouth closed.
“Oh yeah? What’s that, Eric my boy,” the president responded. “What pearl of genius wisdom do you have to share with your father today? I’m all ears.”
Eric, as usual, completely missed his father’s sarcastic tone.
“Oh yay! I’m so glad you want to hear it, Diddums,” Eric said. “So, I was thinking, ‘member how we had that charity for cancer kids?”
President Trump thought for a moment, and farted.
“Ah, yes, I do remember Eric, I remember,” Trump answered his son.
Eric was really on a roll now! Not only did his dad actually want to talk to him, he even wanted to hear his idea. Then, he totally remembered the thing Eric asked him if he remembered. As far back as Eric himself could remember, he’d never had a conversation with his father go so well.
“Okay, well, I was thinking, Diddums. What if we started a charity for kids with Toyota Corollavirus, or even just people in general, not kids,” Eric proposed. “I know it’s prolly easier to take money from sick kids, but of the people who get Corollavirus are adults.”
The president took in his son’s suggestion. Starting a charity for patients infected with COVID-19 would indeed open a whole new line of revenue for the Trump crime syndicate. He hated to admit it, but his son had just come up with a pretty good idea.
“I hate to admit, Eric,” Trump told his son, “but you just came up with a pretty good idea. I tell you what, just to be on the safe side, let’s run this plan by my personal attorney general, Billy Barr. He’s pretty much told me I can do whatever the fuck I want as president, but let’s just cross all the J’s and dot all the Q’s, okay, son?”
Eric was on Cloud 9. He’d managed to convince his father that he had a good idea. This had literally never happened before, and probably would never happen again. Eric had to admit, it felt good to please his father.
“I’m so happy Diddums! This is the greatest day of my life,” Eric said, his voice soaked with excitement. “Let me know what Mr. Barr says, Diddums. I’ll go call Donald Jr and tell him the awesome news!”
Trump bade his son farewell, hung up, and got back to what he was doing before.
“Okay, let’s see here,” President Trump said, a pushing the fast forward button on a remote control for a VCR playing an old cassette of his TV appearances from the 1980’s and 1990’s. “What to masturbate to next…what to masturbate to…next…Ah, yes, when me and Ivanka did Good Morning America together. Damn she was looking good that day.”
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Writer/comedian James Schlarmann is the founder of The Political Garbage Chute and his work has been featured on The Huffington Post. You can follow James on Facebook, Spotify, and Instagram, but not Twitter because Twitter is a cesspool.
