CSI: American Carnage (Thursday, August 22, 2019)

CSI: American Carnage (Thursday, August 22, 2019)

WASHINGTON — Donald runs the letter through his translating scanner. My dear Potato, it begins. How is your beautiful little man? I often think of him and his tiny eruption in Singapore. What a glorious event! I was so happy to receive him and his vomiting gift. Remember our dinner? You laughed like a mad cheetah and played with the man until he was like a sack with the cream sauce? You are such an eater, Potato! And the time you bent over me and I, as you say in your country, turned the tables and ended up behind you? Do you remember? Your Poo-Poo Squishy was so excited! And you let me in! Oh, dearest Potato, we are so beautiful together. I long for the day when you will erect your powerful hotel and open it wide next to me and I may enter and we can relax in the couch of our dreams. Did you see my little flying birds? We sent three up into the sky toward the beautiful rising sun, and I had Potato stenciled on all of them. They are a measure of our love and devotion. Donald looks up from the letter, lost in a recollection of Singapore. There is a knock on the door. Donald stuffs the letter in his pocket. Come, he says. Mike enters, crawling along the floor. Donald watches. Mike flops toward him. Sire, oh Sire, Mike says, I am eternally grateful, your presence brings light and life, you are the most magnificent of them all, may I receive your toe? My I bathe thy flesh? Donald says, Get up. We don’t have time for that. Did you bring the quotes. Mike rises. He says, Oh yes, Magnificence! I have them right here. Mother and our pastor are so pleased by your interest in the Bible and its endless wisdom and teaching. Donald takes the paper from Mike. Mike says, I think these passages fit your needs, Sire. I can provide more, if you wish. Donald says, Alright you can go. Mike turns on his hands and knees and leaves. Donald shouts, Hec! Bring some paper over here. I’ve got to respond to Li’l Wal’rus. Hector disconnects from his nook and brings paper over to the presidential lounger. He waits. Donald looks at the paper from Mike. He says, Ok, take this down, Dearest Li’l Wal’rus: I have your letter and it gives me the bumps.  Donald consults his paper from Mike. He continues: Blow on my garden, Wal’rus, that its smell may spread abroad. And the towers of my breasts will bring contentment, no, strike that, make it the towers of my powerful tower will suck you in while you place your hand by the hole in the door. Wal’rus, Your breasts are like two antelopes, no, strike — I think that should be cantaloupes, your breasts are like two cantaloupes, twins of a gazelle, strike that, twins of a big fruit, and your stature is like that of hefty palm and your breasts like clusters of weighty fruit, make that the coconuts. Donald stops and re-reads. He says, Ok, Hec, get this out to the back channel right away. These letters are the most beautiful letters and now they have been touched, many say, by the word of god, the King of the Jews. — Thursday, August 22, 2019