PROMPT RESPONSE RE: PONCE

Trump Grabs the Reverse-Bechdel Test by the Puss and Gives It a Big Smooch

*rump talks to the little man in his head about women and more

From Grandma Smillew comes this writing prompt about two men and women.

“Your homework for this month is to write a funny story respecting the Reverse-Bechdel Test. It means your story should (1) have at least two men, (2) talk to each other (3) only about a woman. If the men in your story talk to a woman, they can discuss any topic, but if they talk to each other, they can only talk about women.”

Go with me on this one

1️⃣ I just earned my artistic license and I’m dying to take it for a spin.

2️⃣ I’m broadly assuming that even rabid sociopaths with a dash of malignant narcissism thrown in still have a little voice in their heads telling them the truth, no matter what hideous horseshit brand flows from their pie holes.

3️⃣ As unlikely as it seems, statement #2️⃣ applies to Donald “The Tangerine Turd” Trump.

4️⃣ Forget about the word “only”.

OK, that’s it for the preamble.

Now on with the story.

Scene: The Orange Julius Caesar sitting alone and naked (sorry for the gorge-rising image) in his Turkish Bath at Merde-a-Lago musing aloud.

*rump: “I’ve said some pretty great things over the years. One of my favorites is, ‘Grab them by the pussy’.”

The little man in *rump’s head: “You are a revolting schweinehund. Surely even you must know that.”

*rump: Another all-time favorite is, “I don’t even wait. And when you’re a star they let you do it. You can do anything.”

The little man in *rump’s head: Considering your face looks like a massive plate of re-fried beans with bubbling cheese and your breath smells like a week-old cheeseburger with onions found behind a dumpster, it’s amazing that any human, especially a woman, lets you within restraining-order-distance of them. Then there’s that mangy animal pelt with fleas you lovingly refer to as your hair.

*rump: Yeah, but I’m rich.

The little man in *rump’s head: You know how to make a small fortune? Yeah, start with a big one … like you did. You’ve had more fails than the Cleveland Browns.

Trump: But how about my big success, Trump University?

The little man in *rump’s head: Is that the one George Santos claims he graduated from? That boy’s got some tricks up his sleeve. You could learn a thing or two from him. Maybe the three of us will be lucky enough to share a jail cell some day.

Trump: I don’t like where this is going. Can we please get back to saying horrible shit about women?

The little man in *rump’s head: Oh, you mean like your daughter? The one you want to “date”?

Trump: Moving on.

The little man in *rump’s head: OK, what other personal disasters do you want to rehash?

Trump: I like how I got them with the whole Marla Maples and E Jean Carroll confusion thing.

The little man in *rump’s head: No sir. They got you on that one. You seem to be playing a *rump-inspired variant of the Fuck-Marry-Kill game.

Trump: How come you keep calling me *rump?

The little man in *rump’s head: It’s the nicest thing I could think of to call you. As your pretend therapist I’m trying to forge a therapeutic alliance.

Trump: Well I’ve had just about enough of this.

The little man in *rump’s head: Oh no, you haven’t. We’re just getting started. If your recent court cases are any indication, the fun has just begun. Hey that rhymes. The fun has just begun. Maybe it’ll look good on a red hat.

The little man in *rump’s head: (sings) “The fun has just begun. The fun has just begun. The fun has just begun.”

*rump: I’ll have to go talk to some of my maggoty supporters. Their incoherent shrieking should drown out the voice in my head.

The little man in *rump’s head: (sings) Make America Gag Again. Make America Gag Again. Make America Gag Again.

Trump sharts (which looks like the worst brand of steaming hot cocoa EVER!), belches and sneezes all at once and passes out in the Turkish Bath.

Scene: Fade to black

Hey Smillew Rahcuef and Grandma Smillew! Did I get all the claps?

No?! Well then, check this out and forget you and your silly clap-getting contest. (You’ll have to click on the prompt link above to understand this.)