He’d appeared on a massive screen sitting on his solid gold privy, to wild cheers from the massed ranks of poverty and pallor. Words flowed from his tongue like symphonies did from Amadeus. He promised them more automatic weapons as birthrights. USA, USA. More girls. USA, USA. Women were a God given gift to have their kids and mind the fucking frying pans. USA, USA. Blacks were made for slavery. USA, USA. Climate change was a con and vaccines voluntary euthanasia. Pollution was marrying out, not environmental carbon dioxide. USA, USA. And the response to his Nazi salute? Blinking off the scale. Not even ‘blood libel,’ Bibi could object. USA, USA.
He’d already redefined free speech as the words of those who agreed with them. Whether the woke, the trans, blacks and browns liked the stench or not, his words applied everywhere. The more offensive the better. That smell? It’s guano folks. Get used to it. USA, USA. Free speech will never be lost for words from him. If the woke tried to fight it a billion words from his media empire, papers, social, movies, will rise in its defence. USA, USA.
There was nothing new to learn that was not in his edition of the Bible with the socialist propaganda removed. USA USA. He was quietly taking textbooks off the shelves and loudly burning story books.
Antiwhite antichristian, trans, and enemies of free enterprise will be expelled from life, as enemies of freedom, terrorists. USA USA.
From bankrupt cities he’d bought up public spaces for amusement parks. Let them die laughing. Leave the thinking to those who know how. He didn’t tell them that.
Later that day, over dinner on his superyacht, he lit a Cuban cigar and smiled to himself. Did those saps think that he believed a word of what he said. Sayonara, so long suckers. It was every man for himself. He couldn’t give a toss if the next Katrina swept their shacks into the raging oceans or glaciers burst into flames over California. He had his bunkers under the seafloor with air purified by rare metals stolen from Congo. There was no God. There was no race. The only thing he worshipped was money and his was the only life that mattered. There just wasn’t enough of life or money to go round folks so why should he share it with the worthless? He and his mates already owned half the country, the other half was up for grabs. Money rose to the top, like cream and free speech. It was the law of nature.
Some dimwit on a dime a dozen think tank had once asked him about free markets. Were they out of their fucking minds? He spent more on nonrecyclable genetically modified loo roll in a week than they earned in a fucking year. What did they know about serious money? Free markets? Fee markets was what he wanted, with him as sole collector, once he’d polished off the other wannabes.
He’d bought up the farms distressed by his chum the chump Trump’s tariffs and installed free labour from his prisons to till the land. Free labour also for private law enforcement, highway maintenance, fire fighting would come from the private prisons he was building all over the country. He merged fast food conglomerates with health and insurance companies. Cradle to grave provision, from high fat processed baby food to undertakers for when the trash get their heart attacks at forty. He must be going soft. Ah. He must remember to buy the patent to that slimming drug. Gorging on his special offer full fat buy one get one free packs was going to make billions out of rebound obesity.
When Netanyahu finished tidying up he had first options on the rehabilitation and reconstruction of the Gaza strip. Shame, try as he might Bibi would never be one of the boys. He couldn’t stand the grifter. If he had his way he’d serve him up at the Hague with sole TV rights to the trial. He was working on it behind the scenes. If they thought OJ Simpson was huge this would be freaking off the tsunamic. If he pulled it off he’d make a killing off the Arabs and ensure his papers called him magnificent.
He rubbed a sore spot on his butt. Allergic to gold goddamit. He hoped that was the last of those fucking rallies he had to attend. Thank God he didn’t have to touch or smell the seething rabble. With chump Trump, the courts, the legislature bought and in his back pocket and Israel, Epstein and Calvin Klein or Kloirk or whatever his name was as distractions beyond the call of his wildest dreams, he could almost smell victory. And he hadn’t even had to fire a shot.
To think he used to have a speech impediment.
