Hail To The Trump: Imagining The 2016 Republican Primary Debates
“The Republican 2012 primary debates” – if you’re in need of a quick, cheap laugh at the expense of our nation’s plutocrats, you could always type those words into YouTube. Who could forget such classic moments as Mitt Romney trying to make a $10,000 wager with Rick Perry? Now, though, with Donald “You’re Fired” Trump being the latest rich white man to throw his hat – or, in his case, dreadful hairpiece – into the 2016 ring, those quaint 2012 debates may look like Socratic seminars in comparison to what’s in store for this year. Even though the majority of Republicans dislike Trump and the man has to hire actors to swell the ranks of his rallies, it appears America will have the intensely guilty pleasure of watching Trump duke it out with his fellow
TV personalities candidates in the first few debates. Let us try to imagine just what that might entail….
Imagining The 2016 Republican Primary Debates
Megyn Kelly: Welcome to the Quickens Loan Arena in Cleveland, Ohio, home of Lebron James and –
Donald Trump: Donald Trump.
Kelly: Excuse me, Mr. Trump, we’ll begin introductions in just a moment. And aren’t you from New York?
Trump: Ms. Kelly, sweetie, I’ll decide when I do my own introduction. America needs an alpha if we want to make this country great again, someone who can dominate ISIS and the Mexicans and all the other bad guys tearing this great nation down, and if I let some pretty blonde lady dictate when I can and cannot speak, do you think Americans are going to believe I’m their alpha?
Kelly: Well —
Trump: That was a rhetorical question, honey, please be quiet. To answer your direct and insulting question about my home state, Ms. Megyn, yes, I’m a proud New Yorker. Have you heard of 9/11? No, really, have you?
Jeb Bush: Now, Mr. Trump, there is no need to be so condescending and —
Trump: Shut up, Jeb. We get it, you’re the respectable, establishment candidate who doesn’t want to rock the boat. Your daddy was president, your brother was president, now you think it’s your turn. What are you, the Three Musketeers? All for one and one for all? Sounds pretty socialist to me. And your logo looks like it belongs on a bag of fat free potato chips.
Bush: Excuse me, Mr. Trump —
Trump: You know what, you’re fired. Oh wait, I can’t fire you, because you haven’t had a real job since you left the governor’s mansion in 2007. You’ve been preparing for this run for almost ten years, and that logo is the best you could come up with? How can we expect you to make this country great again if you can’t even make a passable brand image? I’ve led a successful reality show since 2004, no one else on this stage can point to such consistent, quality brand leadership. I mean, we’ve got a guy who was born in Canada up here, for Christ’s sake. We get rid of one foreign president just to elect another? That’s not the America I love.
Ted Cruz: I was made a naturalized citizen in —
Trump: Shut up, Ted. Who would you name to be your running mate, Wayne Gretzky? You going to defile this great country by having the Secret Service dress up like Dudley Do-Right? When people hear your name, they think of a stoned, talking teddy bear hamming it up with Mark Wahlberg. Just stop, you’re embarrassing yourself and you’re embarrassing America. Shame on you.
Kelly: Alright, Mr. Trump, let’s move onto some questions now —
Trump: I’m not finished cutting these pretenders down to size. Hey, Rand Paul, hey little guy, can you see over your podium? Big brother may be watching, but you’re so tiny he can’t see you without a microscope. How are you going to stand up to Vladimir Putin if you barely reach his chest? You compare a picture of you without a shirt on to one of Putin, you’ll look like the kid he’s about to stuff into a locker or feed to one of his pet bears as hors d’oeuvres. That’s alright though, maybe your mutual friend and traitor-in-chief Eric Snowden will be able to save your ass.
Rand Paul: His name is Edward Snowden, and he’s an American —
Trump: Chump. Rhymes with Trump, but I ain’t no chump, I can tell you that. More like a champ. President Trump the Champ. That’ll be my official presidential moniker. And my wife, Melania, she won’t be the First Lady — hell, she’s my sixth or seventh — she’ll be known as the Best Lady. And as my first executive action, I’ll be adopting one of the direwolves from Game of Thrones as the official White House pet and mascot. You think I won’t be able to get Congress to do what I want to make this country great again? Just wait until I unleash the beast on every single senator or congressperson who won’t toe the line. That’s how you get things done in Washington. Alright, I’ve got an episode of The Apprentice to shoot, are we done here?
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