Mulvaney And Trump Clink Champagne Glasses, Snack On Lobster, And Toast The Demise Meals On Wheels

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WASHINGTON, D.C. — Co-President Donald Trump and his budget director Mick Mulvaney recently dined together in the Oval Office, according to a recent briefing given by Press Secretary Sean Spicer. In the meeting, the two discussed several of the key line items in Trump’s highly-awaited first budget proposal. That proposal has come under heavy fire from both sides of the aisle, and in particular cuts to programs that help the poor and elderly — like Meals on Wheels — have drawn the ire of both elected officials and the American public.

During Mulvaney and Trump’s meeting, however, the end of the program that takes federal tax dollars and provides meals for those who are too sick or too old to leave their homes, was a cause for celebration.

“To you, Mr. Co-President,” Mulvaney raised his champagne flute toward Mr. Trump. The co-president had taken the extra step of having the flutes monogrammed with their initials, even though he’d later tell aides he was confused that when he told the engravers to put the “presidential initials” on his, he wound up with the letters “SB” engraved on his flute. Mulvaney toasted Trump, saying, “may we ever be able to slash and burn this government to the ground, good sir.”

Trump, sources say, blushed a little, but heaped the praise back on Mulvaney. Grabbing a lobster claw from the platter of lobster piled three feet high in the center of the presidential desk, Trump smiled as he spoke to his budget director.

“Mick, we needed someone willing to tell those octogenarians and disabled people to get off their old and crippled asses and start making, not taking,” Trump said, butter soaked lobster flying from his lips as he spoke, “and I just knew you were the right misanthrope for the job.”

The two laughed spontaneously and uproariously. The crescendo of their guffawing was only momentarily hushed by their sweeping of lobster, caviar, and prime rib into their gullets. They’d wash the food down with more champagne, and continue to laugh, both men knowing how energizing it was to rip food out of the mouths of the poorest, oldest, and sickest people in the country.

“My favorite part was when I told them there wasn’t any evidence to suggest Meals on Wheels works,” Mulvaney said, the champagne in his flute sloshing up and over the rim, “as if since we don’t see a bunch of obese seniors with distended bellies walking around that means we’re not feeding people who need food. That was a stroke of my own genius, if I must say so.”

Trump agreed, and told Mulvaney he “actually got a little chub on” when he saw how casually his budget director dismissed reporters’ questions about why the budget gives steep tax cuts to the super-wealthy but cuts discretionary spending — which is an extremely small portion of the federal budget — which directly impacts the poorest people.

“It was so sexy watching you be such a cold-hearted, money worshiping tool of the oligarchy, Mick,” Trump said, “and I gotta be honest. If you were a woman, I’d be grabbing the shit out of your pussy.”


There was a pause. Mulvaney swallowed hard.

“Sir, if I were a woman, it would be my honor to let you grab my pussy,” Mulvaney said.

The tension was starting to rise, and Trump said something else was starting to rise as well.

“Look, Mick, you might not have a pussy per se,” Trump said, “but I could still, you know, pretend like you did, and we could…”

Another tension-filled pause.

“We could…,” Mick trailed off, longing in his eyes and voice.

“Yes,” Trump confirmed, “we could. you and I both know there is nothing more sexually invigorating than hurting poor people. It’s like the eighties all over again, Mick! I’m so fuckin’ hard right now I could burst. But, hey, if you’re not into it, I can always call Ivanka and she could take my – ”

Mulvaney cut Trump off, pressing his right forefinger to the co-president’s lips.

“Shhh. Shhh now. Shush now Mr. Co-President,” Mulvaney said, “you had me at ‘fuck the poor.'”

And the two men had the nastiest, sweatiest, kleptocratic sex two grown men could have together. Stephen Miller watched quietly from the corner of the Oval Office Trump had painted black and put Miller’s coffin in. Steve Bannon sent word via carrier demon that he was pleased to know some “good, American, anti-poor man-to-man fucking was going down.”





Follow James on Twitter @JamboSchlarmbo.

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