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Trump in Hell


When Donald Trump was assassinated, he went straight to Hell. Now, the way the Hell system works is, newly-arrived souls are greeted by Buddies, who show them the ropes. Trump’s Buddy was Adolf Hitler.

Trump, who hadn’t seen or heard a thing before the bullet entered his brain, awoke from his dizzying spiral only to find himself intensely hot. He’d never felt heat like that before. He rubbed his eyes and tried to get his bearings.

“You’re hot.” Trump turned in the direction of the voice, to see a far-too familiar face. “Are you—?”

“Yes,” the tiny mouth hissed, from below the chopped-off mustache. “It is I.”

“Then I must be in—”

“Hell. And on behalf of our Boss, All Hail Him, let me be the first to welcome you.”

Hitler showed Trump his room, then suggested they go someplace for a little spiel. They went to the Café de la Flambé, Hitler’s favorite, because, as he said, it reminded him of the Munich Hofbrauhaus, “only on fire.” Hitler ordered lemonade, Trump an organic kombucha.

“Hell is in quite a tizzy,” Hitler told him. “We don’t get residents like you everyday.”

“Who else is here?” Trump demanded.

“Who isn’t? Both North Korean Kims. Pol Pot. Vlad the Impaler. Roy Cohn. Jeffrey Epstein—well, you’ll soon meet them all.”

“Is there Twitter?”

Hitler smiled. “Of course. Not in the other place”—he looked upward—”but this is where social media was invented.” Trump showed surprise. “By Goebbels. Whom I created, by the way. He taught Zuckerberg everything he knows.”

“Say,” Trump interjected. “Do you greet all the newcomers?”

“Oh, no,” Hitler replied. “Only exceptional ones. I was assigned to greet you by the Boss, All Hail Him.”

Trump felt very special. He was important enough to have been singled out by the Boss.

“Of course,” added Hitler, “the most special newcomers are greeted by the Boss himself. For instance, He greeted me when I came. And Stalin, when he came.”

Trump was puzzled. “Then why didn’t he greet me?”

Hitler smiled benignly. “Well, you’d have to ask him yourself.” Trump suddenly felt deflated. Wasn’t he as important as Hitler? Hitler, for his part, saw Trump’s disappointment. “Look, you’re not in the very top rank of evil, but you’re pretty close. We’re very proud of what you did during your time.”

Trump felt good about himself again. “Like what?”

“Well,” Hitler began, “take Kavanaugh. He’s one of ours, you know. The Boss closely supervised him for years.”

“Really?” Trump replied. “I thought I picked him.”

“You did,” Hitler answered, “with a little prodding, heh heh. Oh, and throwing those Mexican children in cages? Tremendous!” Trump was startled when everyone in Café de la Flambé rose to their feet and applauded. “Oh, yes,” Hitler affirmed, “there’s nothing quite as satanic, shall we say, as jailing babies. It’s unfortunate you didn’t have the opportunity to gas them.”

“Well,” said Trump, boastfully, “I might have gotten around to that, after getting re-elected.”

Hitler looked at his watch. “I don’t have much more time, Donald. I have to greet another newcomer.”

“Who?” Hitler looked annoyed. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m just curious.”

“Well, if you must know, Mike Pence just died. He’s due to arrive momentarily.”

Trump was startled. “Pence? He’s dead?”

“Apparently,” Hitler said. “Let me see.” Hitler opened his laptop computer and clicked. “Ah, yes, here it is. Pence. Died of coronavirus after attending a Christian revival at a megachurch.”

Trump shook his head. “I’ll be damned.”

 “Exactly,” Hitler said. “You’re getting the hang of it.”

  1. I am enjoying you your writing very much. It’s brilliant 💜

  2. Thank you Donna! Good memories.

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