Wishful Thinking

He only looks dead

A trend about Trump’s health trended over Labor Day weekend which started rumors about Trump’s health, and even spread conspiracy theories that he had died.

No matter what the rumors say, Trump can’t be healthy. He’s 79, and the oldest president sworn into office. Joe Biden was 78 years and 61 days, and Trump was 78 years and 220 days. His maturity is still at 12 years of age.

Recently, Trump has been spotted with a weird bruise on his right hand, and he has cankles.

Last week, JD Vance was asked if he was ready to take over in case of a “tragedy,” and while he praised Trump’s health, he also praised his readiness to take over. This added fuel to the rumor fire, which was already blazing as Grandpa didn’t have any events scheduled over the three-day holiday weekend, though he did play golf Saturday morning.

The White House claimed his hand is bruised from “frequent handshaking.” How fragile is the old man?

There were rumors that Trump had died, and I saw enough that made me turn on legitimate news on a Sunday evening. Sometimes news breaks late on a Sunday night, like the time Osama was killed or the tsunami hit Japan (both on Sunday nights). So I turned on the BBC, because if anyone is going to know that Trump is dead, it’ll be the BBC.

If Trump does die in office, there will be a gazillion conspiracy theories. Hell, they haven’t stopped with conspiracy theories on JFK’s death. Let’s try one on for size.

It’s late on a Sunday night. Donald Trump just ended the war in Ukraine, cured cancer, made the entire world surrender to his tariff war, and negotiated a deal to bring back Seinfeld after a long day where he won another golf tournament he didn’t play in. Trump is in the White House dining room, celebrating with a Diet Coke and sniffing Adderall, when suddenly, from out of the fireplace climbs out the Sandwich Guy.

A grand jury scoffed at the charges against Sandwich Guy and failed to indict him with a felony count. Free from a long prison sentence, despite his devious crimes, Sandwich Guy returns to the Deep State headquarters, which is in an underground lair in the basement of Comet Ping Pong Pizza, where the cannibalistic lizard people give him his next assignment.

Afraid that Donald Trump will become the greatest president ever and destroy all their Jewish space lasers, the lizard people, with funding by George Soros, and after experimenting with Bill Gates’ peachtree dishes, tell Sandwich Guy to take out Trump.

The assignment is difficult as the National Guard is patrolling and picking up garbage in the district, which has been free of crime since Trump dispatched them to the city. But Sandwich Guy is quick and wily, as we all saw from the video of him assaulting federal cops. As it turns out, the pink shirt and shorts give him uncanny human abilities to fly into chimneys and emerge from fireplaces, and this time, his target is the White House.

Just as Sandwich Guy emerges from the fireplace armed with a salami-loaded meatball sub with provolone sprinkled with parmesan, Trump, with his superhuman ability, achieved by years of eating only Big Macs, fries, and KFC, which only Dr. Ronny Jackson knew didn’t really cause diabetes, whips out his 9-iron and swings at Sandwich Guy. But Sandwich Guy dodges and attempts to stab Trump with the meatball sub, but one of Trump’s caddies puts his life between the sandwich and Trump. He will be remembered and rewarded with his interment at Trump’s New Jersey golf resort.

But with the caddy down, and the 9-iron dropped because of Trump’s tiny fingers, greasy from Big Macs, there’s nothing left to save Trump from the villainous Sandwich Guy, but suddenly (again), JD Vance rides in on a dolphin whose tail whips Sandwich Guy into a couch in the Oval Office. As Sandwich Guy screams in horror, as used condoms hidden in the cushions are stuck to his face, JD’s dolphin, Petunia, grabs the sub, and in a quick swerve, swings at Trump, and knocks off his toupee. JD screams, “Why? WHYYYYYYYY?” And Petunia says, “Don’t why me, you mascara-wearing Mellow Yellow-drinking sonofabitch. I saw what you did with the couch, you cheater!” The couch screams, “She knows! Oh, God! She knows!” Petunia yells at the couch, “Who are you calling ‘she,’ you no-good sofa king jezebel?”

Meanwhile, Marco Rubio has been sitting in the corner sucking his thumb silently all this time, hoping no one noticed he was there, while witnessing everything.

Recovering from being slapped by the dolphin tail, Sandwich Guy moves on Trump, who got distracted by his granddaughter practicing putting outside in shorts. But then, Trump’s toupee, which is really a bleached Aardvark, attacks Sandwich Guy, and wraps itself around his neck, but lets go after realizing there are still some used couch condoms there. “Fuck this bullshit,” shouts the toupee, and says, “I wonder if that offer from Marjorie to hang around her shoulders is still on the table.”

Marco attempts to run, but only falls down, as fleeing in platform heels is next to impossible unless your name is Ace Frehley.

And speaking of, the rock band KISS, in an attempt to thank Trump for the Kennedy Honor, attacks Petunia by playing I Was Made For Loving You. Petunia screams, “Oh, the humanity!” Paul Stanley orders Gene Simmons to breathe fire on Sandwich Guy, but the Demon is too distracted because he just noticed Trump’s granddaughter in her shorts putting outside, and accidentally spits fake blood at Trump, who, thinking it’s ketchup, starts putting McDonald’s French Fries in it.

While Trump is dabbing fries into Simmons’ fake blood, Sandwich Guy sees his chance to finally take Trump out, but as he raises his meatball sub to hurl at Trump, it’s suddenly snatched from his hands by….JARED FOGEL!!! Jared, the former spokesman for Subway until he was convicted as a sex offender and had just been pardoned by Trump, shouts, “Pedos stick together!”

But then, Sandwich Guy tries to escape riding on the back of Petunia, but their exit is blocked by Stephen Miller, who has just dropped from hanging in the rafters by his toenails. Miller shouts at Sandwich Guy and Petunia, “Bleah Bleah Bleah,” But is cut off in mid-sentence in shock and horror as Jeffrey Epstein’s ghost emerges, and screams, “Trump was there!” Jared says, “Duh.” Petunia shouts, "EEE-EEEEE-EEEE!” Marco takes a sip of water. Sandwich Guy escapes up the chimney while singing the $5 footlong song. JD disappears into the couch. Miller goosesteps away. KISS fires Ace and Peter, and replaces them with scabs again. Upstairs, Melania turns up the volume on her TV because it got loud downstairs, and she’s trying to watch Barbecue Showdown. Trump’s granddaughter puts on long pants. The lizard people burrow deeper. Trump dies of some weird, unnatural causes because he’s been in poor health all this time.

But maybe Donald Trump did die over the weekend, and the White House hid it, just as they’ve accused the Biden administration of concealing his health from the public? Maybe what we saw on the golf course on Saturday was Donald Trump’s robotic clone. Donald Trump did say that such a thing does exist.

Does Robotic Clone Trump need caddies to cheat at golf, too? Trump being replaced by a robotic clone could be a good thing, as computers tend to learn, while old man Trump stopped learning and thinking decades ago. Unfortunately, if Robotic Clone Trump was created by Republicans, it may have been built to be evil, stupid, and cruel, and…aw, crap. I just described JD Vance.

Corrections: Please email all typos, boo-boos, and any other mistakes to clayjonz@gmail.com. If you put it in the comments, I may not see it until hours or days later. Thanks.

Creative note: My new suitcase arrived today, so I was distracted with unpacking all the little stuff in the sleeves of my old suitcase and putting them in the new one. I also spent a little time figuring out how to set the combination to the lock. It’s about the same size as the old one, but it’s a hard case, and I’m afraid I may not be able to get as much stuff in it. It’s a lot lighter too, which scares me, like I’m going to break in Denmark or some place else far from home. It’ll get a test run to the exotic location of North Bethesda, Maryland, next week. But the luggage’s arrival distracted me from the cartoon, so I didn’t finish until about 5:30 p.m.

Music note: I listened to L7.

Drawn in 30 seconds:

Timelapse:

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