Story line today, Making Trump Great Again?
Big Red Car here. Sort of a grayish day but it’s going to be bright and sunny before it’s over. 55F — brrrr — headed to 85F.
So, yesterday is a big day for one Donald Trump. The Big Red Car calls him on his private cell phone number and we chat for a few minutes.
“So, Mr. Trump, big day, no?” asks me, the Big Red Car.
“Yes, Big Red Car., huuuuuuuuuuuuuuge!”
Then, he laughs.
“But, hey, Big Red Car,” says the Donald, “it’s just another day. These people here in Indiana. I love them and, more importantly, they love me. Love the poorly educated also. Lots of poorly educated and ill-informed folks here in Indiana. Did you see I got Bobby Knight to endorse me? Huuuuuuuuge! So, what you got, Big Red Car? I’ve only got a few minutes. Talk to me, baby.”
“What happens next, Mr. Trump?”
“What happens next, Big Red Car, is I go to work on Crooked Hillary.” The conspiratorial venom in his voice was cobra like. “I brand that bitch — ooops, can’t say that, can I, presidential and all — like a rented mule. I hammer her fat assed pants suited lying self like a chicken fried steak and I define her so her momma doesn’t recognize her. I expose her criminal record until everyone in America can recite it from memory. How’s that, Big Red Car?”
“That’s certainly descriptive, Mr. Trump. What happens with the FBI investigation?”
“Here’s the thing, Big Red Car. When I get through with Crooked Hillary — don’t you love that? Crooked Hillary? terrific — she’s going to wish the FBI indicted her cause it would be the easy path to the dustbin of history. Like that, Big Red Car? The dustbin of history? Melania came up with that. Terrific future First Lady. Now, where were we?”
“Hillary, Mr. Trump, Hillary Clinton.”
“Yeah, right,” he said. “You can quote me on this — when Donald Trump is done with Hillary, she’s going to wish she was under sniper fire. Can you believe Crooked Hillary? Sniper fire? What a liar. Almost as bad — no, worse — than Lying Ted. That Lying Ted got the message. One more notch on my gun, Big Red Car. One more notch on the folks who doubted Donald Trump. She’s a clown. A Crooked Clown.”
“How does her husband, Bill Clinton figure into the campaign and your strategy?”
“Listen, Big Red Car, don’t tell anyone,” he said, his voice dipping low. “Just you and me, OK? I think Bill is getting a little skeezy in the head. Losing it. Not winning. Losing. When I’m president, all we do is win, win, win. OK, Bill used to be a high energy guy. Guy got more ass than a toilet seat in Grand Central Station. Hey, I can’t say shit like that now, can I? Forget that. Now, the guy looks like he’s on adventure day from the old folks home. Looks terrible. Skinny, low energy.”
“Are you going to brand him ‘low energy,’ Mr. Trump?”
“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. That ‘low energy’ branding worked good on Jeb. Fucking Jeb, establishment darling. Low Energy Jeb. His whole family. No, I do like his old man and I’d love to have a coffee with W. You know I don’t even drink, right? But, Jeb? Low. Energy. Low Energy Jeb. He got the branding treatment.”
“Big question, Mr. Trump?”
“Fire away, Big Red Car. You know, I might consider you for a cabinet position. You’re a smart car, no? You want a cabinet position? I might be able to squeeze you in. Any interest? You could probably help me out in Detroit. I need Michigan. Hell, I’ve got Michigan. I’m Donald Trump. Forgot for a second.”
“No, Mr. Trump, The Boss would never allow it. Sorry.”
“You ask him. We could make a deal. A great deal. All I’m going to be doing is making great deals. Making America Great Again. OK, big question, what is it?”
“Are you going to continue to self fund your campaign?”
There is a long, pregnant pause. I thought I could hear a cash register in the background.
“Mr. Trump, are you going to continue to self fund your campaign?”
Donald Trump looks thoughtful. An odd look for the man.
“Yeah, I got the question, Big Red Car. I’m thinking about it. Give me a minute.”
A minute later, Donald Trump answers.
“No, Big Red Car. I’m not going to self fund my general election campaign.”
Our interview had ground to a halt.
“Mr. Trump, I know you’ve got to run,” I said politely knowing I had just received a scoop. “Thank you for the time we spent. Thank you for making time on such a momentous day. Thank you, sir.”
“Hey, Big Red — can I call you Big Red? Of course, I can. I’m going to be the next President of the United States. I can do whatever the Hell I want to do. Always could. I’m Donald Trump, right? Wow, it hasn’t really sunk in. President. OK, so, look, I’m going to want you to come to the Inauguration. Not going to be in DC. Going to have it at Trump’s place, Mar a Lago, in Palm Beach. Terrific place. I’m not kidding, Big Red. You’re coming and together we are going to — MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN. See you. Private. Our conversation is private. You look great. New paint job?”
I thanked him again.
“Now I really have to go, Big Red, a call is coming in from that stiff Mitt Romney. Wonder what that loser wants. All the losers are calling Trump today. Fucking losers said I couldn’t do it. Low energy guy, Mitt Romney.”
“Mitt, my man, great to hear from you. What can I help you with, my friend?”
So, the interview ended with several observations. Trump is still Trump. “Make America Great Again” is still the theme of the campaign. A ton of poorly educated and ill-informed voters have propelled Donald Trump to the GOP nomination thereby defying the GOPe, the Establishment. Crooked Hillary is getting ready to be branded, defined, brutalized, and beaten like a red headed stepchild with a lisp. Trump will not be self-funding his general election campaign.
But, hey, what the Hell do I really know anyway? I’m just a Big Red Car. Be kind to yourself. Why? It’s Wednesday.
