Beelzebub bowed down to the Don. “What an easy mark he is,” thought the Devil. “Just a little bit of flattery and he’s eating out of my hand.”
The Donald looked around him. They were alone, so no one else could see this remarkable exchange taking place. He had finally arrived! Someone the Donald looked up to was paying homage to him. “Go on, get up. No need for formality here.”
Beelzebub took advantage of the proffered familiarity, and slunk over to the Donald’s side, taking his arm. “You already have just about anything I can offer. The best women money can buy, the camaraderie of those leaders you like to pal around with, sycophants who thought they held power in this nation until they came up against you. What more do you desire?”
The Donald thought for a brief moment. “I want to make it certain I get elected, then I want to never have to have an election after that.”
Beelzebub pondered on how best to make this bargain. He had already received the Donald’s soul wrapped up in a bow. The only thing left was the submission of the foreclosure notice. Then he knew. He knew what he could do that would provide the ultimate takedown for this preposterous charlatan so looked up to by his admirers. “You know that thing you said about shooting someone on 5th Avenue and not losing a supporter? Well, we can make that happen, and once it does, no one will ever challenge you again.” Beelzebub looked around, making certain no one else could overhear them. “I’ll get you Alvin Bragg out there on 5th Avenue. You can’t ask for anything more.”
The Donald appeared gleeful. “That’s wonderful. I’ve always wanted to take down that stuffed shirt. How he ever got elected, I’ll never know. One of those affirmative action hires for sure. Probably has immigrant blood in him.”
Beelzebub stroked his goatee. This was going better than he had any reason to expect. Not only was the mark accepting the bargain, he was pushing the bounds by asking for more.
Since Beelzebub was nearly omnipotent, the Donald instantly found himself outside of his namesake tower, holding a semi-automatic rifle just like the images he would see festooned on banners his followers liked to display. Only those banners had muscular definition that the Donald sorely lacked, though no one dared to mention it to the Donald. Sure enough, walking across the street the Donald could pick out the form of Alvin Bragg. The Donald raised the rifle, and pulled the trigger. Since this was still under the control of Beelzebub, the Donald found that the rifle he held was fully automatic. The rapid firing did bring down the Manhattan DA, but also brought down dozens of other denizens of Manhattan as collateral damage.
The Donald yelled excitedly. “Got him. I got him.”
Swiftly the Donald’s Secret Service escorts came up and grabbed the offending weapon from his hands. One of his escorts put his finger on the trigger, and it fired wildly across 5th Avenue. That unlucky agent was instantly gunned down by the others in the patrol. The agents huddled, and soon came up with the story that it was only a rogue agent who was responsible for the carnage. The Donald was totally innocent.
His legend grew. Those who were hesitant at giving their total allegiance, now could barely stand the wait in line to give their own obeisance to the Donald. Those who had spoken up previously somehow mysteriously lost their voices. It was strange to see the leading subject matter on networks like MSNBC, now disappearing into the cable void. They had to find new topics to take the time. Did you know that Anthony Fauci is now employed by pharmaceutical companies? I didn’t until the topic of the Donald disappeared from view. So what that his employment is truly with academia, we all know who’s really paying the bill.
The campaign flew past in a blur. Those who had talked about the interminable length of the upcoming campaign, had to swallow their words as the news cycle swung around to the unbearable lightness of the Donald’s being, as each pronouncement became more favorable for the Donald. Election day was upon the US, and the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Not only was it possible for the Donald to shoot someone on 5th Avenue, and not lose support, but somehow the actual act of shooting folks on 5th became part of the allure of the Donald. Why vote for steady competence when you could vote for the nation’s latest superhero! The Donald, with his photo shopped abs, holding an AK! The voters of this nation spoke with almost one voice, selecting the obese one to lead the country. Soon it would be inauguration day.
Beelzebub rubbed his hands together in glee. Time to foreclose.
Even A Broken Clock 