We’ve heard that Trump wasn’t allowed to accompany his armed mob to the Capitol on January 6. But what if he had? Let’s imagine…
The White House and Capitol are 2 miles apart, about 1.995 miles farther than Trump’s ability to “march” anywhere, so he had to be driven. In this tale, his SUV had loyal Secret Service agents, guys Trump could count on to wipe their phones and obliterate all incriminating texts around 1/6.
After his speech at the Ellipse, when Trump barked, “I’m the fucking president and I can do whatever I want. Drive me to the Capitol,” he didn’t have to grab the steering wheel or strangle anyone.
[By the way, Trump driving himself to the Capitol might have been a crime in itself because his New York driver’s license expired in June 2020.
In the heat of his reelection campaign and daily coronavirus briefings, do you think he renewed it?]
His Secret Service detail said, “Yes, Sir, at once, Sir!” (They knew he loves being called “Sir.”) The SUV inched through the rag-tag crowd filling the street, so the usual 10-minute drive took longer. But that gave Proud Boys and Oath Keepers, who’d already spent hours crashing through the Capitol Police’s first lines of defense, more time to smash the unreinforced windows, which they’d located thanks to Trump’s sycophants giving them tours to case the place.
The SUV took Trump right to the Capitol steps to spare the germophobe from having to walk through the unwashed masses he loved precisely because of their poor hygiene. Just climbing those steps in shoe lifts and a girdle would be taxing enough for Trump.
Trump was anticipating his High Noon showdown on the House floor with Speaker Pelosi when he declared all vote-counting over and told that bitch, “You’re fired!”
A phalanx of more Secret Service agents materialized to form a human V in front of Trump to clear his path up the stairs, yelling, “Stand down, but stand by!” When rioters glimpsed the dead ferret on Trump’s head, they hailed their leader’s arrival, stepping back and holding their flag-spears aloft in salute.
Once inside the Capitol, Trump strode to the House chamber expecting to find Nancy Pelosi in hysterics and Democrat cowards bouncing off the walls in terror. But it was empty except for vagrants ransacking desks and a bare-chested nut wearing face paint and horns standing at the Speaker’s chair.
Enraged that Pelosi had eluded him, Trump screamed, “Fuck you, Nervous Nancy!” and stomped out.
In the underground garage where Mike Pence and his family were hiding came word that Trump was in the building. “Oh, Mother, he’s come at last to save us!” Pence exclaimed as he headed for the stairs.
From the top of the Capitol steps, Trump ordered some SS agents to lead “his people, but only the armed ones” to where Congress was hiding, because he wasn’t about to squander this opportunity to rid himself of Schumer, Pelosi and their Democrat scum.
Looking over the mob, Trump was inspired to deliver an impromptu speech (which would have come out as, “Stop the steal, rigged election, fake news, witch hunt, hoax, fight like hell, shifty Schiff, Hillary’s emails!” on endless loop). But Mike Pence ran toward him, with Mother waddling in his wake.
“Praise the Lord, Sir! My prayers have been answered. You’re here to deliver us from evil and make America great again!” Pence cried, dropping to his knees at Trump’s feet.
Trump looked down and replied, his voice dripping with contempt, “Mike, are you going to do the right thing or wuss out and be a pussy?”
Panicked and confused after fleeing from the mob, Pence momentarily forgot what Trump was asking about. That nanosecond of hesitation cost him everything.
Trump gestured to an obese, bearded clot of knuckle-draggers standing nearby and said, “Proud Boys, you know what to do.”
Trumps goons grabbed the still-kneeling Pence and dragged him screaming down the Capitol steps. When Pence saw the gallows, he went limp and the Proud Boys easily threw him onto the platform. Trump and Mother Pence had caught up and watched, but only one of them in horror.
As the noose fell around Pence’s neck, TV cameramen in trees a safe distance away broadcast worldwide his lips babbling a final prayer. The next moment, the Proud Boys yanked the rope.
Trump heard the satisfying snap of his VP’s neck as he struggled in midair. When Mike went still, Trump gave his signature thumbs-up.
“Mike got what he deserved.”
The mob roared and began chanting, “Nancy Next, Nancy Next!”
But Pelosi was on the phone with General Mark Milley, who deployed the U.S. Army, which arrived to find Trump smirking amid general jubilation and dancing around Mike Pence’s dangling corpse.
As the troops landed, Trump’s SUV whisked him away because he didn’t want blood splashing on his black cashmere winter coat.
The rioters, now finding themselves leaderless and under deadly threat from highly trained soldiers armed for combat, lunged at the army with their flag-spears. Concealed weapons came out and began firing, including AR-15s, of course.
Screams filled the air as heads and body parts flew all over the Capitol grounds, soaking everyone in unspeakable gore. Both sides suffered so many casualties, the epic Civil War confrontation at Antietam will henceforth be remembered as a garden party.
Since it was all broadcast live, the whole world watched the U.S. president lead a barbaric attack on the government he’d sworn a sacred oath to protect and defend.
Trump, now safely back in the White House after a quick stop at a McDonald’s drive-through, watched TV as he scarfed down three Big Macs and two large orders of fries swimming in ketchup. When he flung his porcelain plate against the wall, as 1/6 Committee witness Cassidy Hutchinson later described, it was not in rage, but celebratory.
Trump reveled in his self-made “American carnage” all afternoon, flipping from station to station. He replayed many times favorite moments when his people blew U.S. Army troops to smithereens.
It wasn’t until dusk, when his people were too hungry and exhausted to continue fighting, that Trump called a press conference. His message was simple and from the heart:
“You’re all very special people and I love you, but you can go home now. Thank you for your hard work. You are true patriots. I am going to reward you by giving you what you want more than anything in the world. I declare Donald J. Trump president for life.
“As of this moment, I’m dissolving Congress and firing all the Joint Chiefs. All branches of the military, including my most brilliant Space Force, now report directly to their Supreme Commander, Donald J. Trump. I declare martial law throughout the land. The 2020 election never happened, and we’ll never need an election again. Thank you, and good night.”
Trump took no questions.
As the rioters packed up, Congress returned to find their building in shambles, including urine in every corner and human feces all over walls, paintings, and statues.
Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer stood together, looking through a broken window at the silhouette of Mike Pence framed by moonlight, hanging from the gallows. If they still had jobs, they would have drawn up a list of possible members for a committee, which would then decide if the events of 1/6 needed to be investigated to determine if it was even remotely conceivable that Trump or anyone with him had possibly committed any crimes.
Mitch McConnell finally felt safe enough with all the Democrats gone to poke his head out of his shell and Kevin McCarthy pulled his thumb out of his mouth. Even though now also unemployed, they chanted in unison, “All Hail our Glorious Leader!”
Trump left the Supreme Court and Justice Department intact because he needed them to enforce his will and persecute his enemies. In an odd twist, he appointed Merrick Garland his new attorney general because he knew Garland would never dare to make a political fuss by charging anybody with anything. And he never did.
Pence’s killers faced no punishment. The rioters who slaughtered Capitol Police and Army troops were exonerated by Trump’s next executive order, which stated, “Since the United States loves the Second Amendment more than life itself, everyone must own a gun and murder is no longer a crime.”
Nobody lived happily ever after, including Trump. After about a year, dementia had reduced his mind to such mush, he couldn’t remember he’d ever been president. But the damage he’d been allowed to do wiped the United States of America right off the map.