Presidential Election Aftermath by Stephen Halpert #Author’sCorner #Humor

Presidential Election Aftermath by Stephen Halpert

To our readers: While Gilberto and Maria enjoy their honeymoon at Niagara Falls, here’s what’s happening in the Oval Office.

The mood at the White House was gloomy. Even with the President’s insistence that he won the 2020 Presidential Election and despite a deficit of better than ten million votes and a thundering loss in the Electoral College, the President continually insisted the election had been rigged.

Coffee and donut in hand, he sat behind his desk in the Oval Office. Across from him was his personal attorney, former New York City Mayor, Big Rudy.

"I shoulda made you Attorney General," the President mused. "Barr Barr Black Sheep let me down. Coward! Wary of litigation brought upon him by crossing that stupid Constitution!"

Big Rudy noticed the bulging veins across his boss’s forehead. He feared the Chief Executive might easily have a stroke and like fellow Republicans throughout the Senate and across the country, decided that his agreement, despite however facetious was in his boss’s best interests."

"Absolutely! You got royally screwed," Big Rudy flapped his arms. "I could smell theft like that, believe you me."

"I want revenge," the President banged his fist on his desk. "I want to leave such an indelible mark I’ll always be cheered and never be forgotten."

"Absolutely," Big Rudy agreed."

He held up a piece of paper with lots of names. "Ok here’s my second list of pardons. Frank and Jesse James and all gang members, plus all those who rode with the Dalton Gang, and don’t forget Billy The Kid, Bruno Richard Hauptman and Tokyo Rose for openers."

"You mean the Lindbergh kidnapper. Wasn’t he already executed?"

"No matter," the President brayed. "And flowers and candy to his decedents."

Rudy ran his hand though his thinning hair. "Pardoning Tokyo Rose would certainly upset veterans’ groups."

The president snorted. "Who cares. Those lily liver bellied cowards didn’t come through for me when I needed them."

"True," Thinking it was unwise to make waves, Big Rudy nodded.

"And I want Shoeless Joe Jackson fully exonerated and put into the Hall of Fame where he belongs."

"That might shake up Major League Baseball," Big Rudy said.

The President laughed. "Who cares! I’m making my mark in history; let’s upset the apple carts, all of ‘um!"

"Hi, Daddy," Ivanka breezed into the President’s office. She smiled and kissed him gently on his forehead.

Big Rudy cleared his throat. "We’re just making up a new Presidential Pardon list."

"Oh goody," Ivanka smirked. "Don’t forget poor Ghislaine Maxwell. She doesn’t deserve the kind of nasty notoriety and jail time she’s getting just for throwing a few parties. And poor Prince Andrew. Just because they were seen hot tubbing together at a party with Bill Clinton."

"I hate the Clinton’s," the President groused.

She smiled slyly. "Didn’t you party with her once yourself," she asked.

"You’ve got too good a memory," he quipped. "There’s more to you than handbags and silky undies. What can I do for you?"

"Oh Daddy," Ivanka cooed, "could I have fifteen thousand dollars. They’re having a big sale at Bloomies, and I need some new gym shorts and sneakers."

"Why not?" he said heartily, "Anything for my little angel." He scratched out a petty cash memo and handed it to her. "Just don’t let Pelosi find out. She’s got no sense of appreciation when it comes to gym shorts."

"Thanks Daddy." Ivanka took the chit, kissed her daddy’s forehead again, turned and breezed out of the Oval Office."

"You really want to pardon Ghislaine Maxwell?" Big Rudy said. "But she hasn’t even stood trial as yet."

"Just a technicality," the President chuckled. "Such a sweet child.

Imagine New York City going after her of all people. But that’s no doubt typical of Hillary’s meddling. Probably jealous she and Bill were together in that hot tub in with Prince Andrew."

"I must have missed reading about that in the Post," Big Rudy said, choosing his words carefully.

"Fox News," the President gloated. "Only reliable source of information these days."

His son Don Jr. came into his office. "Dad we need your help. Eric and I want to buy Montana and put in hotels and golf courses but their State Legislature is giving us a hard time."

""Call Barr Barr black sheep," the President said. "Tell him I said to look for loopholes in land grants and treaties and to come up with a case we can send to the Supreme Court. Those fool Justices and especially that skirt I just appointed, owe me bigtime."

Big Rudy sighed. "I’ll do my best. "But Montana could be tricky. Maybe try more of a red state, like Florida."

"We already own Florida," the President’s voice boomed. "What we need is diversity."

Big Rudy nodded in agreement. "Personally Sir, I suggest you think about putting your energies into colonializing the Moon."

"Yeah, Dad," Don Jr. nodded in agreement. "Then you could become the first real Man in the Moon. Think of the hotels and golf courses we could build up there."

"And those multi-billion dollar construction loans," the President smirked," all far away from local jurisdictions."

"Free money!" Don Jr. grinned. "You’re a genius, dad. Then we could launch a zillion satellites and you could be the first President of the Moon for life."

The President smiled. "I like that. No write in or absentee ballots to worry about. Just clear sailing."

"I’ll get right on it, dad." He grinned, nodded to big Rudy, turned and left.

"Smart kid, just like me," the President sighed. "You know Rudy right now the way they stole this election from me, I could see living on the Moon. Could you imagine how far I could drive a golf ball up there?"

"And you can make all the rules, write all the laws." Big Rudy chuckled. "Up there in outer space you’d sure be above the law."

The President looked thoughtful. "I guess we could order Big Mac take outs and have them launched daily."

"A steady stream," Big Rudy agreed. "And all the fries you’d ever want to eat."

"Sounds like heaven," the President agreed. "Melania probably wouldn’t like it up there, but once we’ve sprung her from jail, Ms. Maxwell would join me. She’d fit in perfectly up there with me."

Big Rudy laughed. "I got to hand it to you Sir. You sure know how to trump history."

"

About Patty L. Fletcher

Patty L. Fletcher lives in Kingsport Tennessee where she works full time as a Writer with the goal of bridging the great chasm which separates the disAbled from the non-disAbled. And as a Social Media Promotional Assistant. She is the owner and creator of Tell-It-To-The-World Marketing (Author, Blogger Business Assist), and is the published author of two books, Campbell’s Rambles: How a Seeing Eye Dog Retrieved My Life and Bubba Tails From the Puppy Nursery At The Seeing Eye: Volume One. She can also be found in two anthologies which are, December Awethology Light And A Treasure Chest of Children’s Tales. See her latest book, Pathway to Freedom Broken and Healed: How a Seeing Eye Dog Retrieved My Life Second Edition in eBook and Paperback at: https://www.amazon.com/Patty-L.-Fletcher/e/B00Q9I7RWG Find it in various accessible formats: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/PattyFletcher See her Facebook business page: https://www.facebook.com/tellittotheworld/ Patty loves receiving feedback about her work. So, drop her a line any time at: patty.volunteer1@gmail.com
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