Last week, I sat down with the Republican Party nominee at the local Starbucks. After knocking back a couple Frappuccinos and ten scones, I was ready to hammer him with the tough questions.
Me: Mr. Trump — may I call you Mr. Trump? Or do you prefer just Trump or The Donald or…?
Trump: I prefer Supreme Ruler of the Universe.
Me: Mmkay. So…I think we’re all dying to know…what the frig? I mean, dude! Seriously?
Trump: I have no idea what you mean by that question.
Me: Really? No idea?
Trump: Look, let’s get down to brass tacks here. Obama is ISIS. He really is.
Trump: I’m tellin’ you, he created it.
Trump: There’s no doubt. My sources also tell me he’s the man responsible for Deflategate, Zima, and Carrot Top.
Me: You can’t really believe–
Trump: Okay, about what I just said. It’s called (enunciates slowly) SARCASM.
Me: Oh, so you were kidding? About which part?
Trump: No, I wasn’t kidding. It’s all true. When I said it was sarcasm, I was being sarcastic. Here’s the thing, and pay careful attention to what I’m about to say.
Trump: Obama’s a vegetarian.
Me: (blank stare)
Trump: Probably a vegan, for all we know.
Me: And how does that–
Trump: Obama’s an alien. Sent from the planet Floopzork to destroy all humanity. It’s true and I have solid proof, but anyway.
Me: Okay, I get the feeling you’re trying to sabotage your own campaign. Thoughts?
Trump: Look — this country is in crisis. We need to make it great again. Starting with banning all people who watch The Bachelor. They’re all despicable, they really are. And I’ll tell you something else, Michael Jackson is still alive and well and living in a bunker underground at Disney World. I think he’s also behind ISIS, I don’t know.
Trump: And by the way, Disney is the main recruiter of terrorists. I mean, did you ever really look into the eyes of Goofy? Really look? If you did, I’d think you’d see pure evil staring back at you, but whatever.
Me: Are you saying these things because you didn’t think you’d actually get this far? Did you wake up one night in a cold sweat and think, Holy shit, what the hell am I doing? So now you secretly want to lose in a landslide to Clinton?
Trump: Hillary should be put in a rocket and blasted to the moon. I mean, we have the technology. Let’s put Carrot Top in there with her.
Trump: Y’know, some of our top scientists say that the moon is really made of cheese. Camembert.
Trump: And we should ban all Canadians from entering the United States. I mean, can you really trust a country that gave the world Justin Bieber?
Trump: Y’know…sometimes when I’m all alone and it’s quiet… I talk to my pet monkey, Mr. Pickles. He tells me the secrets of the universe. He also thinks the moon is made of cheese, but not Camembert — Colby-Jack.
Me: Clearly you’re panicking now at this stage. People are left to speculate if you’re brilliant, insane, or a jackass. Or a combination of all three, but mostly jackass. Is this your strategy to exit the race?
Trump: Lemme tell you something, okay? Aliens are already here on this planet, right now. Oprah’s one. And I’m pretty sure Hillary is too, I don’t know. Her eyes are all wonky. Lock her up before she starts zapping all our brains, know what I’m sayin’?
Me: No, I don’t.
Trump: (whispers) Shh! They’ll hear us! Here, put this on! (hands me a pair of underwear) Put it on your head! Their signals won’t be able to penetrate!
Trump: I’ll try giving them a subliminal message that we mean no harm.
Me: Okay, I think we’re done here!
Trump: (wearing underwear on head) Meep! Beep! Meep-borp-blarp!
There you have it, folks, my interview with Trump.
And I know what you’re thinking — he has an excellent chance of winning, doesn’t he?