Lady Loomer and Captain Valtrex entered the Mar-a-Lago ballroom to wild applause.
MAGA had found its Queen at last.
Mel was always missing in action; everyone knew she hated Donald and was only in it for the money. She and Hank had a nice life in New York City, why would she mess it up to go out on the campaign trail with that diapered buffoon.
It was early evening at Trump’s Palm Beach club - the royal lovemaking had rattled the windows and soiled the ears of the many in attendance downstairs in the buffet line only minutes before but only for a few minutes - all the old man could muster.
At first, security thought there had been an intruder, the screams were mistaken for panic but any such alarm was quickly offset by the blissful cries of Loomer herself.
The words ‘Take me, my King!’ and ‘More, Mr. President!’ echoed down the musty, carpeted halls. She knew it was performance and made sure everyone could hear her, most especially his campaign staff.
She knew how to make Donald feel powerful - that it was the trick he needed right now.
Laura understood the perception of his prowess was more important than actual performance.
In fact, it was the heart of the entire grift that his life had become.
It was ALL a show, this MAGA world, and it required showboating.
That is why she had joined him in Philly earlier in the week for his debate.
A night on which he was summarily bested by his masterful and far superior opponent.
He needed someone to mend his broken ego and distract him at this stage of the campaign - and Loomer got the gig.
It didn’t hurt that she was a vile racist prone to positing the sort of batshit-crazy conspiracy theories that, to Donald, were intellectual foreplay.
She was an idiot like him and had the same sort of freakish visage.
She was also the same age as his youngest daughter but that never stopped him before. In fact it was kind of his thing.
More than a few in Trump’s inner circle noticed the smitten ex-President and wondered aloud if this could be ‘the real thing’.
To which Kimberly Guilfoyle replied, ‘Honey, this is Palm Beach, nothing is real here!’
‘Well, I think she would make a fine First Lady,’ Corey Lewandowksi chimed in, before they all broke out in laughter.
‘Look - whatever keeps that freak on message is fine by me,’ the campaign strategist most responsible for Trump’s embrace of all things QAnon continued.
Corey, himself a voracious predator and world class misogynist, sent out a text to all the Team Trump campaign surrogates immediately after Donald left the debate stage to on Tuesday night: ‘This was a fucking disaster and we need all hands on deck’.
As they boarded ‘Trump Force One’ leaving Philadelphia and Loomer and Donald headed to his private office in back of the plane an aide cheekily stage whispered, ‘Did you mean all hands on dick!?!’
This was no laughing matter however and nobody understood that more than Trump himself.
He had been ringside at enough Tyson fights in his Atlantic City Casino days to know a knockout when he saw one.
In fact, he was still seeing stars when he stepped into the spin room after the debate, a demeaning gesture and a seeming admittance of defeat but one he knew he couldn’t avoid after the performance he turned in.
The drubbing had been that bad.
He felt as if the debate had been ten minutes longer they might have had to carry him out on a stretcher.
Hell, he could feel his knees buckle when she mentioned his crowd sizes.
How had he left himself open for such a strategic jab.
He took that one right on the chin and never stopped reeling for the rest of the night.
His guess was ‘Mooch’ wrote those lines and they were damn good.
He almost felt a tinge of respect for his opponent in that moment.
He already knew deep down she was smarter and more capable than him in every way.
But then he knew that about most women - that’s why he hated them so much.
Especially the really successful ones who made it on their own merit and not by being handed ‘400 million on a sliver platter,’ as she so adroitly laid out.
Except it was the truth and he knew it as well as everyone watching at home did.
The worst thing that could happen to Donald was being called a ‘loser’ - a label that he set out to earn over and over again.
His entire life was one blown opportunity or fortune after another.
He knew he wasn’t ‘book smart’; he knew that as a kid when the words seemed to dance on the page in front of his eyes, never settling down long enough for him to make sense of them.
That’s why his parents always paid someone else to take his tests - they knew he would fail them if left to his own devices.
And now he was failing the biggest test of all, in front of the whole world.
Back in his gold-plated fortress in the sky after the debate he looked out of the window and saw it all fading away.
The same window he pretended to be looking out of twenty three years ago when he called into a local NYC television station and bragged about now having the tallest building in downtown Manhattan on the morning on September 11, 2001.
He lied and said he watched the towers fall from his windows, he also lied and said “I watched in Jersey City, New Jersey, where thousands and thousands of people were cheering,” as the World Trade Center collapsed.
An awful lie, in the city that had given him everything in life, while it was in its worst moment.
His instinct was to promote himself and divide people in an hour when shared humanity was the only recourse to horror.
When strangers helped strangers covered in soot and the dust of too many lost dreams.
When thousands went to work on a beautiful, blue sky morning and would never come home again.
As the world reeled in shock and sorrow, Trump thought only of himself.
He was jealous of the attention, if such a perverse thing is possible, and had to insert his brand into the moment.
He wasn’t even in his Manhattan penthouse but vacationing at Mar-a-Lago with another couple.
He couldn’t bear to not have his name in the mix so pretended he was in his apartment and saw the planes crash into the towers (something that wouldn’t even have been viewable from 57th Street with the Empire State Building in the way) but lying was Donald’s way of life.
He saw the smoke all right, on T.V., but it only made him think about himself. Not the multitudes of people who perished that morning or the bravery of the first responders who sacrificed their lives in service to others.
His lies have only grown through the years, telling his rally crowds that he was down on the pit immediately after ‘pulling rubble off with his bare hands’.
His tiny manicured hands were nowhere to be found, nor were those of his sons until it came time to sign papers requesting federal aid money.
They didn’t do so much as hand out a water bottle on that day.
He would be down at Ground Zero tomorrow, pretending to care once again.
He wasn’t fit to stand alongside the real heroes and the families of the victims.
But he didn’t care, it was a show to him, another chance to participate in pretending to be human. He would even bring Laura to rub a little more salt in their wounds, he knew that would make some headlines - make it more about him than them.
While he was there he would see his opponent, an empathetic woman who knew well the cost of that terrible day and the price of protecting freedom going forward.
A woman who served the office of Vice President with grace and dignity and a woman who would most assuredly be our next Commander in Chief.
Only more of a certainty after her performance on the debate stage at the National Constitution Center - a monument to a document Trump would love to burn at the Resolute desk just so he could send Putin a picture of the flames.
As Donald stood alone, staring out of the window, the last bits of crushed Adderall coursing through his broken synapses before he collapsed for the night in a Benzoed-haze, he received one last text.
It was from Laura Loomer:
“You up, Boo?”
Very ‘take no prisoners’ writing. Love you. Look forward to the next pieces. 💙
It's all true. Welcome to the Laura Loony show.
Btw, they found the dumbass who started that Haitian rumor. Thanks a lot, Facebook. https://currently.att.yahoo.com/news/just-exploded-springfield-woman-claims-004811293.html