A look forward to his next presidential run: hold onto your MAGA hats, it’s the 2024 version of a Trump Rally!
By Bill Tope
Into the hall stream Trumpists for a 2024 Trump rally, there to root for their political hero. They enter mostly in pairs, clad in matching t-shirts. One such couple wears NRA FOREVER shirts; appended to their waists and to those of many other attendees are matching Glocks. Others are similarly attired, with shirts bearing such legends as GOOD GUY WITH A GUN and SHOOT FIRST, READ ‘EM THEIR RIGHTS LATER and TRUMP: 2024 and ALL DEMOCRATS ARE BUTTHOLES!
From an in-house band arises a clamorous fanfare and then onto the stage bounces former President Donald J. Trump, bigger than life. Gone, however, is his customary uniform of blue suit with white shirt and extra-long red tie. In its place are very tight denim jeans, a leather biker vest and a t-shirt emblazoned with ALL MY WOMEN SWALLOW. Melania, at his side, looks particularly uncomfortable.
Trump taps the mic, which crackles with feedback. Then he speaks: “My friends, fellow Republicans, my people, as you well know, we won the election four years ago, they just wouldn’t give it to us. Fraud was rife, ballot boxes were stuffed, mail-in ballots were a joke, yet we won by 16 million votes!” The crowd roars its approval. In the audience, several supporters whip the handguns from their holsters and fire live rounds into the air. Plaster begins raining down from the ceiling.
Trump goes on: “Biden had 81 million votes — maybe; but we had 97 million votes, which is what there would have been if they’d counted the way they were supposed to.” Up on one of the light fixtures, high above the crowd, a man is hanging, a flask of whisky clutched in one hand. Suddenly he lets go and plummets to the floor, far below. “No, that’s alright,” Trump consoles the crowd. “Get on up there, it makes for a good photo-op. You’ll be on Fox News tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll pay your medical bills if you fall…” Eagerly, supporters begin scaling the walls.
“Now,” Trump goes on, “we’ve taken precautions for this election. They won’t get away with fraud like the last time!” Across the vast auditorium the audience cheers wildly. “In the 2022 midterms we captured some essential seats in the state legislatures so we’ll be having our own people as electors this time.” More cheers.
“No more Liz Cheney; she’s history! No more RINOs! No more Black Lives Matter! And no Critical Race Theory!” Trump adds, to more raucous cheers. “And LGBTQ?” Angry hisses and catcalls. “No more. The only initials I want are a B, an L and a T and that’s on a sandwich.” Still more cheers, cries of TRUMP! TRUMP! TRUMP!
“And what does the Democrat Party have to offer? He smiles beatifically. “The Green New Deal? Don’t need it! Scurvy transsexuals in our military?” He waves his hand mincingly. “Don’t need ’em! Nancy Pelosi? She can go fu…no, wait, I promised my campaign manager I’d clean up my act. Let’s just say that the soon-to-be ex-Speaker can go fornicate herself!”
Cries of rapture rise up from the audience. “Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, I love you, your’re very special. Stand back and stand by.”
Just then, some of the climbers began to fall, landing by the previous gravity victim, piling up in a heap. “Yeah, that’s okay,” Trump bellowed just before leaving the stage, “you can lay down and lay by too! Now let’s get this mess cleaned up. Porter…where’s my African American?”