CSI: American Carnage (Saturday, December 7, 2019)
WASHINGTON – There is a knock on the door of the Executive Lounge where Donald is sprawled on the recliner, remote in hand, a packet of Stuffed Pretzel Cheesy Jalapeños melting on the side table. There is a buzz coming from the teevee monitor. A small puddle has formed and is dripping down from the Cheesy Jalapeños packet to the cluster of used tissues on the floor. They’ve now formed a gelatinous mound, a haven for silverfish and some small black bugs that Donald has never seen before. Come! Donald says, straightening his wrapper. The door opens and Mike squirms in. Oh Most Magnificent! he says, wiggling his way toward Donald. But Mike’s passage is interrupted by a ring of broken glass spread in an arc around the recliner. Oww! Mike shrieks. His crisp white shirt begins to show spots of red. Mike is bleeding! Sire, he cries, I, it is I! Mike! Donald says, Stay. Mike says, But Highness, I have news from your servant, Mitch. And it has been days since we have performed the soothing and cleansing toe ritual, so important in maintaining your comfort and focus. Donald says, Approach. Mike wiggles over the shards of glass, as carefully as possible. He takes Donald’s fetid right big toe into his mouth and begins to suck off the bitter, gauzy mold. It is a powerful fungus. Donald says, Take it! Take it all! Swallow! Swallow it! Mike continues to suck. Louder! Donald commands. Mike gags. Donald relaxes at last and says, What is it? Mike coughs. Highness, he says, Mitch sends his enthusiastic congratulations on your latest great nomination of the Pitlyk. Donald smiles. What is a Pitlyk? he asks. Can it be used at night to relieve stress? Mike looks up from the floor and says, Pitlyk is your incredible choice for the court. Recall, as the drunken socialist lawyers pointed out, she has never examined a witness, never taken a deposition, never argued any motion in a state or federal trial court, never picked a jury, and never participated at any stage of a criminal matter. Donald says, Oh, yes, Brett’s friend, the one who supports the religious freedom of the baby-thoughts. The baby has thoughts immediately, as you know, when the father shoots it into the tube. I’ve heard about that. Donald smiles again. He appears lost in thought himself. After several minutes, Donald says, The Kelly woman, Shackelford’s her name, says the fundamental freedom is the first freedom, which you don’t leave on the tissues next to the bed, or flush down the toilet like some goldfish. Donald straightens his wrapper and fidgets with the remote. He seems distant to Mike looking up from the floor, drops of blood now drying on his white shirt. – Saturday, December 7, 2019