Monday, August 22, 2016

Lady and The Trump

A Fairy Tale by Donna Troy
(Note: I will be borrowing from many fairy tales in the telling of this fairy tale. But I probably won't borrow much from Lady and the Tramp. Because I haven't seen it since I was a kid, and I don't feel like watching it just to write this blog. All I remember are dogs and spaghetti. I'll try to work in dogs and spaghetti for any hard-core Lady and the Tramp fans who may be reading this.)

Once upon a time, in a land that may or may not be great depending on who you ask, there lived a fierce warrior princess named Hillary. By the time this fierce warrior princess had reached her sixty-ninth year, she had already led an amazing life, which you can read all about in a previous blog entry entitled, It Takes a Village. Despite all the wondrous things Princess Hillary had accomplished, she knew this land that may or may not be great was still a little fucked up. A great leader would be needed to repair this fucked-up-ness. So, Princess Hillary grabbed a basket and her little dog, Toto, and began her long journey along the Yellow Brick Road. (Look, I worked in a dog already.) She knew it would be a long and most difficult trip, but the Yellow Brick Road would lead to the Land of DC. Once there, Princess Hillary and Toto could lead the people as President of this great or not so great nation, from the oval shaped office of the Big White House.

Word of the fierce warrior princess's aspiration spread quickly throughout the land. Many of the villagers were excited about finally joining the twentieth century by electing a woman president. (Note to my brother: I meant to say twentieth century. You know, because a shit load of other countries elected women to their highest offices in the twentieth century.) Yet, there were still some people who were quite stubborn and determined to stop the princess and her little dog, too.

A wicked sorcerer called The Trump wanted all the power in the land for himself. He cared not of the poor or the sick or the helpless. He cared not for the soldiers who went off to war. He cared not of his daughter, Tiffany, because he took advice from his mirror. The mirror said his first-born daughter, Ivanka, was the fairest in the land. The Trump cared only for himself and his three wicked children. He wanted all the gold in the world for his twisted evil family, except for Tiffany. He, too, decided to travel to the Land of DC to become President. But he was too pampered to make the long journey down the Yellow Brick Road. Instead, he chose to travel by his private hot air balloon, Trump Hot Air. So, he departed his castle, Trump Tower, and began a comfortable journey to the Land of DC.

Along the way, The Trump stopped in several villages and spoke with the common folk in an attempt to win their favor. He pretended to be on their side and to care for their needs. But the more he spoke, the more it became clear to The Trump that there was a darkness brewing amidst the Nascar races and Klan rallies. The villagers were angry because their own life choices had turned out to be very wrong and they were hungry for someone to blame. The Trump seized on their anger and declared himself to be their savior.
Folks, I alone can fix your problems, okay. We need law and order. Prince Charming has reigned in the White House for eight harvests. He's a total disaster. He's done nothing for the butcher. He's done nothing for the baker. He hasn't lifted a finger for the candlestick maker. The Klan is suffering. Prince Charming is letting people float in from all parts of the Enchanted Forest. They're taking jobs away from The Village People. When I'm elected President, I will build a big beautiful moat around the Land of DC, and no one will be allowed in unless they guess Rumplestiltskin's name. Okay, one of my servants said I just gave away the Rumplestiltskin trick. So, whatever. We'll change the name. No big deal. We'll call him Trumplestiltskin. It's beautiful. The Trump name sells, folks. That I can tell you. What? Someone is trying to tell me the Trumplestiltskin thing won't work either. Okay, whatever. He's fired. He doesn't work for me? I don't care. Get him out of here. The Trump is sending all enchanted people back where they came from and Trumplestiltskin won't be letting them back in. Believe me.
So, here we are a few months away from choosing a new Wizard-President, and terror has run amok across this land that may be but probably isn't too great right now. Wicked Witches are everywhere. And we all know where they came from. Prince Charming and Princess Hillary are the founders of The Wicked. And no one knows this, but The Trump. I'm the only one, okay. Prince Charming has been lying to the people of this land that, to be honest, really isn't so great. Okay. Witches have been killing people right and left. Hansel and Gretel are still missing. Prince Charming is the founder of The Wicked. You heard it here, folks. And Princess Hillary is the co-founder. I don't know if you heard me when I said that. Princess Hillary is the co-founder of The Wicked. I've heard from many, many people that Princess Hillary once shacked up with seven dwarves. I mean, dwarves. Can you believe it, folks? Dwarves. And every one of those tiny, filthy creatures had a very, very foreign sounding name. There was Doc, obviously some kind of pervert, two feet tall, going around calling himself Doc. Okay, in this land doctors should be 5'6" and above. I know some people are going to defend the dwarves as handicapped or whatever. Who cares? Right. We've got Klansmen suffering. I don't have time to be worried about every dwarf that needs a footstool. And others are going to say, "Oh, but Mr. The Trump, what about women doctors who are under 5'6"?" What about them? Am I right or am I right, folks?
The Trump's declaration was well received by the Nascar fans and their fellow Klansmen. Meanwhile, Princess Hillary heard of The Trump's victory from a scarecrow, while skipping along the Yellow Brick Road. The Princess laughed off the absurdity of The Trump's words, but nevertheless decided to address the villagers herself. She wrote a message and tied it to a crow hoping it would reach The Village People before she arrived in DC. It read:
My fellow villagers, The Trump knows not of the healthcare needs which plague our land. He knows not of the healthcare needs of dwarves. They suffer from all types of illness both of the mind and of the body, be they Sleepy, Sneezy, Dopey, Bashful, and Grumpy. Fortunately, Happy is doing well. We need more doctors, not less. We need affordable education so that more dwarves and women of all sizes may become doctors.
The Trump knows not of Enchanted Forest relations. He wants to ban all witches from our land, even the good ones. Remember, without Glenda The Good Witch, we would not have magic shoes or the ability to travel by bubble, which reduces our reliance on foreign oil.
Meanwhile, two Dukes from the land of Libertaria, Gary Johnson and Bill Weld, decided the people of the village should have more than two choices when picking the new Wizard-President. So, they decided to journey to the Land of DC and run for President and Vice President as well. Fortunately for the princess, their chances are quite slim. As no one in the land knows where they stand on the issues or what policies they would enact or that they even exist. It seems every time the Dukes get a chance to address the people, they only want to discuss whether or not they will poll high enough to be included in the debates. Let's face it, most people reading this don't know any more about Gary Johnson than I just told you. And you just learned Bill Weld's name.

But they weren't the only ones who didn't want the princess or The Trump to win. A Lady from the Emerald City, Jill Stein, emerged to challenge the princess, as well. The Green Party ticket of Jill Stein and some-guy-in-the-picture-with-her will currently be on the ballots in twenty-eight villages. They could possibly be on the ballots in more villages, but definitely not all fifty. Unfortunately for the Green Party, Jill Stein and some-guy have no chance without being on all ballots. And also, no chance because no one can name her running mate. And also, because Jill Stein addressed the nation once and her words were not persuasive. "If you don't like Trump or Clinton, then vote for me. I'm Jill Stein and I approve this message."

During this time, The Trump flew back to his castle at Trump Tower where he received some discouraging news. His manservant-son, The Trump Jr., told him of the princess's popularity among the people and of The Trump's dismal poll numbers. The Trump became quite angry as he has quite an affinity for poll numbers. He momentarily considered beheading his first-born son, but The Trump Jr. acted quickly and suggested a new plan to defeat Princess Hillary. The Trump approved of this and flew off in his balloon to a tavern called "Bubba's" where he would once again address his people.
Look, folks, if Princess Hillary becomes the Wizard-President, she'll get to pick the emperor's new clothes. We will all have to live with that decision for – I don't know – decades, maybe. The emperor could be around for another fifty years at least. Princess Hillary's choice of new clothes for the emperor affects us all. And there's nothing we can do about it. Nothing. Well, maybe there is something the villagers who carry arms can do....
A chill swept through Bubba's tavern. Even some Klansmen were heard to say, "Wo!"


Namaste, Bitches


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