‘THE INAUGURATION THAT NEVER WAS’

‘THE INAUGURATION THAT NEVER WAS’ – By Dean O. Arutoghor

As tradition dictates, Donald Trump woke up, on the eve of his inauguration, in the bedroom at President’s Guest House aka the Blair House on 1651 Pennsylvania Ave. He woke with a broad, content smile. The smile of an alpha hustler who knew he had just pulled off one of the most audacious con tricks ever. Breathing heavily, he tucked his small fingers under his head, making sure he didn’t ruffle his stupidly coiffured hair. Yes, it had been over four years now since he had last woken up with one strand of hair out of place. Even now, the thought of it made him shudder…Quickly, he came back to happy thoughts. “President Trump” he whispered to himself a couple of times before grinning and nodding his approval.

“Just enjoy this moment, Donald baby. Enjoy it before they find you out for the fraud that you are”. Eventually, he rose quietly from the bed, not wanting to disturb Melania who was still sleeping next to him with her pink ear muffs which she wore to bed to help block out Donald’s incessant snoring.

As he walked past the full-length mirror on his way to the bathroom, Donald caught a glimpse of himself and paused in front of it. Legs akimbo, he placed his clenched fists on his hips, puffed out his chest and thrusts his head backward arrogantly.

And there he was, ladies and gentlemen, in all his unflattering glory: I give you the 45th president of the USA. A repulsive character both inside and outside.

Suddenly, Donald felt a sharp pain shoot from his chest to his left arm. A look of concern came over his face. His chest squeezed in on itself and he desperately clutched at it with both hands.

Storried The Inauguration that

Now he was suddenly dizzy. He tried to move but could only stagger to his right. He tried to call out to Melania but his lips couldn’t push out the words. Wide-eyed, he slowly sank to his knees as he started to gasp for air.

Then almost like a rotten giant tree, he collapsed to the carpeted floor, very, very slowly.

He lay there dying, Melania still fast asleep and his Secret Service bodyguards on the other side of the door….All of a sudden there was a knock on the door.

“What is it?”

“Hey, darling. They are about to show that bastard’s inauguration on TV. Just wanted to know whether you want to watch it,” Bill called out from the other side of the study door.

Hilary cursed, sighed and then typed ‘The End’ to finish her short story about Donald before shutting down her laptop and trudging downstairs to watch his inauguration ceremony on TV.

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‘THE INAUGURATION THAT NEVER WAS’

By Dean O. Arutoghor

As tradition dictates, Donald Trump woke up, on the eve of his inauguration, in the bedroom at President’s Guest House aka the Blair House on 1651 Pennsylvania Ave. He woke with a broad, content smile. The smile of an alpha hustler who knew he had just pulled off one of the most audacious con tricks ever. Breathing heavily, he tucked his small fingers under his head, making sure he didn’t ruffle his stupidly coiffured hair. Yes, it had been over four years now since he had last woken up with one strand of hair

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