President Strangelove: or How to Win Friends and Influence Elections

Blog by Edward Sherman

The Oval office: President Trump, on his knees, before a portrait of Abraham Lincoln.

Trump: Dear Abraham, how do I unite this house divided? When so few believe I’m doing a good job … and the rest think I’m doing a terrific one?

(A female aid enters the room and gingerly “ahems” to get his attention)

Presidential Aid: Mr. President, Vladimir Putin is on the phone.

Trump (picks up the phone and places his hand over the mouthpiece): Thank you … and you’re fired.

Trump: Vladimir, how are you?

Putin: Fine, my friend. I just wanted to congratulate you on your inauguration.

Trump: It was a terrific inauguration. The greatest since Lincoln’s. Big crowd; bigger than Obama’s.

Putin: Yes, aerial photographs can be deceiving. For instance, how many people were in the port-a-johns at the moment the pictures were snapped?

Trump: Thousands, I bet. Americans spend a lot of time in the bathroom. Part of my “Make America Great Again” campaign is to reduce that. Those are productive hours being wasted.

Putin: You will make America great again …

Trump: On the other hand, I did come up with some terrific campaign ideas on the can. For instance, I decided on the Muslim ban after I ate a bad kabob.

Putin: You do see all sides. You’re very reasonable.

Trump: Nobody is more reasonable. Certainly not Obama bin Laden.

Putin: Anyway, I want to assure you, we had nothing to do with your victory. I agree with your assessment, the hacking was probably done by someone else; it very well could have been, as you say, “some fat guy living in his mother’s basement.”

Trump: Or the Chinese.

Putin: Or the Chinese.

Trump: Or a fat Chinese guy, living in his mother’s basement.

Putin: But it was not us. I want to assure you.

Trump: Vladimir, I believe you. And I’m someone that cannot be played. I’m too smart.

Putin: Believe me; we in Russia know just how smart you are. And, unlike the rest of Europe, we appreciate it.

Trump: And I appreciate you. The rest of Europe can kiss my ass, and Merkel’s a six at best.

Putin:  I wish your corrupt media could see how well we get along; that Russia and the U.S. can be the best of friends. Your interests are our interests.

Trump: I’ve been saying it all along – The media is corrupt. And what’s wrong with being friends with Russia?

Putin: Nothing!  We should be enemies?

Trump: We should?

Putin: No, I was just being sarcastic; like old Jewish people from your Miami speak sometimes.

Trump: Right, Jews do speak like that. I get you.

Putin: Of course you get it. Nothing gets past you. But the press will say, “He’ll manipulate Trump.” I say, “Impossible! Trump is far more clever than me”.

Trump: And so am I!

Putin: Uh, right. And I love your ideas. For instance, parading your military through the streets; nothing like a grand spectacle to get the respect of the rest of the world.

Trump: Yes, a show of American might through the streets of Washington that reverberates throughout the world. And I’ll make Mexico pay for it!

Putin: A terrific idea. So good that we were thinking we might, in a much inferior way of course, do the same; parade our modest tanks and little missile launchers through the streets of Estonia and Latvia. I think it would inspire the people there to show their love of Mother Russia. After all, they really are Russian at heart. Of course, NATO isn’t into such displays of grandeur. And Obama didn’t think it …

Trump: That damn Kenyan! He’s no longer president! I am! Don’t you worry, Vladimir, I’ll handle NATO.

Putin: That’s great, Mr. President.

Trump: Please, call me Mr. President.

Putin: And I also love your idea of reducing, yet expanding, your nuclear arsenal. It’s a complex yet brilliant idea.

Trump: Most presidents do one or the other. How many can say they’ve done both?

Putin: Just you.

Trump: Just me. Military parades, nuclear expansion and don’t forget waterboarding. No one will ever question the erection of Donald Trump again.

Putin: The what?

Trump: I said, no one will ever question the election of Donald Trump again.

Putin: Yes, we’ve elected the right man. I’m using the royal “We”, of course.

Trump: Of course. Hmm … maybe it is time America had a King …

Putin: Oh, and don’t you worry about that whole dossier thing. I’m going to make that go away.


Trump:  Personally, I don’t recall doing anything wrong when I was last in Russia. I remember waking up early to jog, breaking ground on a terrific new building, judging a beauty pageant, defeating your grandmaster at chess and calling it a day – I may have saved a baby from a burning building and gotten a cat out of a tree also. But that’s neither here nor there – However, making that dossier go away is probably the politically sound thing to do. Who should we have killed?

Putin: Well, I don’t think that is necessary … yet. I was thinking more along the lines of, as you like to say in America, “I’ll scratch your back and you scratch mine”.

Trump: Frankly, my son-in-law gave me a long wooden stick for that; the end is shaped like fingers …

Putin: Maybe I was not speaking clearly. What I meant is, you, after all, are the man who wrote, The Art of the Deal

Trump: You’re damn right I wrote it. I wrote every word of it, despite what that Schwartz is saying. Maybe he helped with some punctuation; you know, threw him a bone, because I’m pro-Israel – You know my son-in-law is a Jew. So how can they say I’m anti-Semitic?

Putin: I really don’t know.

Trump: And neither do they. Nobody knows what’s in a man’s heart – except my doctor; he says mine is clogged with fat and cholesterol and I should have been dead years ago. But I showed him, a good diet and a pact with the Devil later and I’m still here.

Putin: You certainly are. And it is intimidating for me to try and make a deal with a master dealmaker. After all, who am I but a simple former KGB agent who has only dealt with highly trained and educated assassins in the past. You, sir, are in another league.

Trump: A terrific league. So what falsehoods are in this dossier?

Putin: It does have a slightly different take on your stay here. Of course, the security camera tapes can be misleading; for instance, it appears you were not actually playing chess with a grandmaster.

Trump: No? Then what, pray-tell, was I doing? Who was I dominating with my guile and genius, then?

Putin: It appears you were playing tic-tac-toe with a chicken.

Trump: I still won, right?

Putin: Well, no. But it was a narrow defeat to a highly skilled opponent.

Trump:  I want that chicken killed! But first get him to admit the game was rigged. Can you water board a chicken?

Putin: Well, we deep fry them, so … But it’s really not the more salacious details that may cause you trouble. It’s the thought that you may have borrowed money from Russian mobsters that may be more troubling than having a couple prostitutes pee on each other or being outwitted by a chicken.

Trump: What kind of world do we live in? They had to go to the bathroom. I’m used to the bladders of American women. Who am I to make them hold it?

Putin: Look, I’m on your side. If it were up to me I’d split the planet down the middle, rename it planet “Trumputin”, and call it a day.

Trump: You’ve done your homework, haven’t you, Vladimir? That’s always been a modest goal of mine.

Putin: That’s what I think of your integrity, my friend.

Trump: From the time my father gave me that small loan of a bil-million dollars to start a business, I thought, I want to change the world, starting with the name. I didn’t want to be just another all-talk billionaire. The Trump name has always stood for quality: steaks, universities, why not planets? That way when the aliens land here they will know it’s a quality planet.  Face it, Mars is a disaster. Venusians are living in hell. But when they see the lights of planet Trumputin, they will know they’re on a winning planet.

Putin: Okay … In light of all that, I do feel we can make a deal that will be beneficial to both you, me and our countries.

Trump: In that order or it’s a deal breaker.

Putin: You drive a hard bargain, but I agree. You’ve worn me down.

Trump: What did you have in mind?

Putin: You know how neighbors will often exchange keys for the safety of each other?

Trump: You want to swap wives?

Putin: No, not quite. Well maybe, but not now. What I was thinking …

(Cut To – Press Secretary, Sean Spicer’s news conference in progress)

Spicer (pointing to a member of the Press Corp): Yes?

Press Corp: Did the President speak with Vladimir Putin and if so what did they talk about?

Spicer: Yes he did and nothing that went horribly wrong. Yes?

Press Corp: Are you trying not to tell us something?

Spicer: I think you press members need to stop jumping to conclusions.

Press Corp: Then why are you sweating profusely?

Spicer: That’s your opinion.

Press Corp: I think that’s a fact. Is there something you’re trying not to tell us?

Spicer: Like what?

Press Corp: Like how did the President’s conversation with Vladimir Putin go?

Spicer: It went.

Press Corp: You’ve gone pale.

Spicer: That’s not a question.

Press Corp: Can you tell us what they discussed?

Spicer: You know … this and that.

Press Corp: Can you tell us anything about the exchange?

Spicer: We did not exchange nuclear codes with Russia.

Press Corp: What?

Spicer: Did I say that out loud?

Press Corp: Did the President exchange nuclear codes with Putin?

Spicer: Look, we were going to have a cyber-security team working around the clock to re-set those codes anyway.

Press Corp: So it’s true?

Spicer: It was a joke, between a couple of buddies, locker room banter. I mean, Putin’s codes were: URADUM@ss.

Press Corp: Did Trump give away our real codes?

Spicer: Define real.

Press Corp: The ones that work.

Spicer: Then, yes.

Press Corp: Dear God! He may have killed us all. How can you continue to lie for this man? How naive can you continue to pretend to be?

Spicer: Kellyanne! Steve!

(Spicer steps from behind the podium and slips into a Japanese kimono. He is joined by Kellyanne Conway and Steve Bannon. They, too, are dressed in Japanese kimonos)

Spicer: One, two, three. (Music starts …)

(Spicer, Conway and Bannon start dancing with choppy little steps, while holding folding fans in front of their faces. They lower the fans and begin to sing … )

Three little aides from school are we.
Pert as a school-girl well can be.
Filled to the brim with girlish glee.
Three little aides from school.

(A loud boom; lights flicker; dust falls from the ceiling)

Everything is a source of fun.

(Another boom)

Nobody’s safe for we care for none.

(Chunks of ceiling fall)

Life is a joke that’s just begun.

(Screams, as people run for cover)

Three little aides from school.
Three little aides from school …




The above blog is a work of fiction. It is SATIRE, not “FAKE NEWS”

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