Get Ready for the Fifth Reich!

 

(By Cyril Blubberpuss, conservative-American)

     To be honest with you, since November fifth, when my friend Donald Trump won the presidency again with a whopping 29% mandate of the US electorate, I've been celebrating at Mar a Lago. And in between shocking the illegal Mexican and Cuban chambermaids with cattle prods and Matt Schlapp chasing the cabana boys, there's been a lot of hard work in the dining rooms and the links at Mar a Lago. Among those things have been strategizing.and forming the president-elect's cabinet.

     Mar a Lago's a regular bee hive of activity. This isn't my first rodeo. I did much the same thing in 2017 that I and members of Trump's orbit are doing now: Angling for Cabinet positions, drawing up hit lists of, er, for military leaders, selling access to the president, etc. And it's been a whirlwind three weeks, let me tell you!

     It's shaping up to be a helluva government, totally unlike the criminal syndicate that makes up Sleepy Joe Biden's administration. With the GOP's four seat command in the Senate and their two member majority in the house, why, anything's possible!

     And, it's true that no one's seen the B side of the Republican ticket, Vice President-elect JD Vance. Rumor has it that he's hard at work on the sequel to his magnum opus and it'll be called Hillbilly Autopsy or maybe Hillbilly Coroner's Inquest, he hasn't decided which. Ether way, Lauras Trump and Loomer won't have to worry about ole JD stealing their Maybelline eyeliner.

     It's gonna be a major shakeup of the government, the likes of which hasn't been seen since the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. HHS designee RFK, Jr, while he hasn't been busy making his own unpasturized cheese made of stolen milk from cows, has been drafting out legislation and executive orders banning vaccines for polio and a theoretical zombie outbreak. The proposed model legislation is entitled, "Hey, We All Gotta Die From Something, Right? Antivax Act of 2025".

     

     Knowing I was going to be here for several weeks, I even decided to bring my kid brother, Cecil, with me to Palm Beach. He was especially keen to come with me when I told him Donald's handsome, supple, prepubescent grandsons would be there. Cecil has taken quite a liking to them and they're always playing Hide and Seek with my kid brother, although their screams and crying are a bit much to take.

     Of course, I'd be lying if I didn't admit that I'm here through some self-interest. For a while, I was in the running for Commerce Secretary until he abruptly gave the nomination to Howard Lutnick. It may have had something to do with the fact that during dinner a few nights ago, Cecil blurted out that he's outgrown Barron (or maybe it was the other way around). Admittedly, Barron is 7' 10" (Oh, wait, since I started this article, he's grown another two inches. Make it 8' even).

     Still, I'm angling for Treasury Secretary and my Wall Street experience and track record makes me a very strong candidate. Like my dear friend Donald, I built up my financial empire the hard way- By having it handed to me by my father. My sainted father, Ambrose, handed me a multi-billion dollar company on his sudden passing and, under my stewardship, it's now a billion dollar company.

     However, I'd be less than honest if I said there wasn't some occasional chaos and a drop or two of bad blood here at Mar a Lago. We're at the very epicenter of incalculable power and egos will clash from time to time. Take the kerfuffle last week just before a meeting at the Tea Room. Boris Epsteyn had a clash with Elon Musk, who's been kind of a bloated, black flamingo. The exchange got so heated that Boris challenged Elon to a Jell-O wrestling match, a prospect that even turned off my baby brother, Cecil, who's always lobbying for events like that at the middle school level.

     There are signs that Elon's overstaying his welcome and now Donald has to surround himself with his Secret Service protective detail every time he goes to the bathroom so Elon doesn't follow him in. I remember Donald and I were on the 5th hole at Mar a Lago and just before he picked up a ball in the rough and tossed it toward the hole, he said,

     "Just between you and me, Cyril," he said as his grandsons ran all over the fairway as they were pursued by Cecil in his tightie whities. Screaming boys are a constant feature when Cecil's around, they love seeing him so much. "That Elon's getting under my skin," he said as he kicked the ball a few feet. "I know he couch surfs all the time because he's too cheap to buy a house. But what kind of loser spends $44 billion on Twitter but won't buy a house for a few hundred thousand?"

     Afterwards, we all posed for a family photo and Elon grabbed Donald's youngest grandson, which made Cecil green with envy. That's me behind my friend, Donald. I look a little out of focus but that's a trait of we Blubberpusses. We're naturally blurry. Of course, everyone was too diplomatic to notice Melania wasn't in the picture, as usual. Nor were any of us going to mention that a member of Donald's protective detail went AWOL at the same time.