Friday, June 19, 2020


White House Bunker | Where Is the White House's Secret Bunker?

It was a hot night without air conditioning.   When I finally fell into a restless slumber I dreamt one of those bizarre night-frights that often accompany a disturbed sleep.

THE PLACE: The White House Executive Residence.

Two secret service agents are stationed in the hallway just down from Trump’s bedroom.  Trump's personal agent, code name Papa Bear, is talking to Melania’s personal agent who is new on the job, code name Mama Bear.

Mama Bear: Boy, this is a rough night for me.  Melania has been drinking all afternoon and is in a shit mood.

Papa Bear:  I don’t wonder.  This is the one night each month Melania is required to have sex with PODIS. 

Mama Bear: What do you mean required?

Papa Bear: I think it is in her prenup.   She puts out, or else it leaves herself open to the loss of any cash obligation from her husband.

Mama Bear:  Hell, I’d want to be drunk too if I had to see POTUS naked, much less have sex with him.

Papa Bear:  Yeah, I have seen him naked and it something I won’t be able to get out of my head for a long time, if ever.  Anyway, I just took POTUS in a supersize bucket of Colonel Sanders extra crispy fried chicken, so maybe he will be distracted and we can skip sex night. 

Mama Bear:   Shouldn’t we be closer to their room. 

Papa Bear:   Do you really want to hear what goes on in there tonight?

Mama Bear and Papa Bear are joined by Holy Bear, Vice President Mike Pence’s personal Secret service agent. 

Holly Bear:  What’s up guys.

Papa Bear:  We’re just standing watch as usual.  What are you doing here?

Holy Bear:  Pence is meeting with Senator Lindsey Graham in the adjoining room to PODUS bedroom.   They are discussing something they want to bring before POTUS later tonight.    Pence just sent down to the kitchen for snacks for the meeting.  POTUS is always more amenable when he has food in front of him. 

Mama Bear:  What’s that noise?

Lindsey rushes out of the sitting room.

Lindsey:  Oh my god they are killing each other!   I’m getting the vapors!

Lindsey swoons.

Holy Bear runs to Graham and tries to revive him. 

Holy Bear:  Mr. Graham, what’s going on.  What’s wrong?

Graham groggily:  It’s awful, the noise coming out of the Presidents bedroom!  It is terrible!   Melania is screaming and Trump is making the most awful sounds.!  Something bad is going on.   You boys need to get in there.

Papa Bear:   I’m not going in there.

Mama Bear:  Me neither.

Graham:  Somebody needs to go in.  It sounds like the President is having a fit.

Papa Bear:   Fuck.   Why doesn’t Pence go in?

Holy Bear:   He can’t.   He promised God he would never go into a room where a woman was drinking without his wife.   But he is praying.

Graham swoons again.

Papa Bear:  Holy Bear, get the nurse up here.  We are going to have to go in.

Mama Bear:   What do you mean we?

Papa Bear:  You’re going with me – your charge may be in trouble too.

The Secret service agents respond.  In the adjoining sitting room Mike Pence is on his knees praying.  There is fitful guttural noise coming from the President’s bedroom and Melania is swearing in a mixture of Slovenian and English.

The agents knock on the door to Trump’s bedroom and after a few seconds crack the door open and look in.

Trump is lying on the bed amongst an array of fried chicken and mashed potatoes.  His face is purple, drool is running down his chin and chest, and he seems to be both choking and in a rage.    There is a huge red spot on the sheet covering the President.  For a moment the agents are transfixed, but then they respond with their training.

Mama Bear approaches Melania and tries to calm her.  She is screaming: Fuck you – you no fucking good President– you little dick – now you no dick.

Mama Bears efforts are in vane and Melania raves on. 

 Papa bear does a quick triage.  The President is having trouble breathing, though in a rage.  It appears his dick has been cut off and he is bleeding profusely.   

In triage you always treat breathing difficulties before bleeding.  Papa bear grab Trump’s dick stub and apply pressure while at the same time attempting to open the President’s mouth to look for an obstruction.


Just at that moment the nurse arrives.   After a quick assessment she tells Papa Bear to continue stemming the bleeding from Trump’s dick stub while she tries to calm the President and look in his mouth. 

Trump slumps on his pillow in semi-consciousness and the nurse is able to view the obstruction.  With a pair of forceps, she is finally able to dislodge a full drumstick, extra crispy, from the President’s esophagus.  He begins to breath heavily, and quickly the color comes back to his face.  Within a few minutes he is able to talk.

Trump raving:  That bitch bit off my dick when she was supposed to be giving me head.   I want you to call my lawyer right away.   I’ll sue her.  Throw the bitch in jail.  I want her executed!  Where is Barr?

The paramedics arrive and load Trump onto a gurney for transportation.  He refuses to let them transport him until they gathered the uneaten chicken and given it to him in the KFC bucket. 

Late that evening Papa Bear and Mama bear are comparing notes.

Papa Bear:  POTUS is stabilized.   Barr is with him and Trump is demanding a firing squad for Melania.   By the way, do you know what happened to severed penis part?

Mama Bear:  It seems Melania swallowed the dick and refuses to vomit it up.  The VP is wondering whether Melania can be forced to have her stomach pumped; but the ACLU has come to her defense.   Fox News is demanding Pence gets Barr to apply for a search warrant through the federal judge of the DC court in order to force Melania to surrender the organ; but it looks like a court battle, perhaps all the way to the Supreme Court could ensue.  By that time the dick will be digested.

Mama Bear continues: I was with Melania when she was approached to submit to the procedure, she just shook her head and grinned like a Cheshire Cat.   According to my assignment I have to protect her, with force if necessary.  Fuck, I am in the frying pan.

The next day at the White House briefing, Kellyann Conway announces that due to an unavoidable accident the President had one of the digits on his huge hand severed; but due to his remarkable genomes he will surely be able to grow another in record time.   She added:  The First Lady is in severe distress due to her husband’s discomfort and has moved back to Trump Tower. 

Then I woke up.

That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.
the Ol’Buzzard


COMMENT: Ben Franklin said, "I imagine a man must have a good deal of vanity who believes, and a good deal of boldness who affirms, that all doctrines he holds are true, and all he rejects are false."