Trump unravels over Harris.
The Resistant Grandmother (TRG) imagines, based on reports of an unprepared campaign coupled with poetic license, how Trump is flailing now that Biden has bowed out.
The Resistant Grandmother
The setting: Trump’s residential quarters in Mar-a-Lago, not long after Biden’s announcement he’s pulling out of the race. Trump angrily enters his upstairs suite, tearing off his sweaty khakis and white pique golf shirt, revealing his sizable girth, and pulls on some summer shorts and a tee shirt.
A lavish fast-food lunch has been placed on a table in front of a large screen TV. He clicks on the set and sees images of younger, attractive Kamala Harris striding confidently across a tarmac, shaking hands with dignitaries, and entering a large black vehicle that takes her to an overflow event of excited voters.
TRUMP: Goddamnit! Who does that b*** think she is? Getting all this air time while I’m the one who’s gonna be the next president! (He throws a plate of Big Macs at the wall. The loud thud signals his valet, Walle (“Walter”) Nauta, to knock lightly before entering the room.)
NAUTA: Everything OK, Boss? I heard something crash —
TRUMP: No, I’m not “OK,” okay? Four days ago, I was running against Sleepy Joe. Now, this — an uppity broad from San Francisco! Where’s Melania? Tell her I’d like to see her, now.
NAUTA: She’s asked me to always set up appointments, sir. I know she has 1-1:15, Tuesday open.
TRUMP: Oh, never mind. Get my campaign managers in here!
NAUTA: Right away, sir. Wiles and LaCivita are right down the hall.
(Within minutes, senior campaign advisors Susie Wiles and Chris LaCivita enter. They square their shoulders and try to walk confidently, sensing an imminent attack.)
WILES: You called, Mr. President?
TRUMP: (In his shorts, Trump slumps spread eagled in a large club chair, seething. They stand. With remote in hand, he points to the screen.)
What’s the meaning of this?
WILES: You mean, Harris?
TRUMP: Whoddya think I mean – Queen Elizabeth? Yes, I mean the Harris shrew. All this air time, attention, excitement. What are you doing about it?
(Wiles and LaCavita look nervously at each other. Wiles answers first.)
WILES: We’re on it, big time, Mr. President. We’ve got Hannity and the Fox and Friends hosts slamming her about wanting to scrap plastic straws for paper ones.
LACIVITA: We’ve got Tim Burchett in Congress dragging out the DEI label…claiming she got where she is because she’s a black woman benefitting from the “diversity, equity, and inclusion” crap, and we’ve got…
TRUMP (suddenly getting a brain wave): Where was she born? India? Some s-hole Caribbean country…?”
LACIVITA: No, Oakland.
TRUMP: Where the hell is that? Near China?
LACIVITA: California, sir. Across the bay from San Francisco.
TRUMP: Good enough. Demand her birth certificate, then call it phony! Play it up big the way we did with Obama.
Anything else?
LACIVITA: We’re claiming that the only way she’s gotten where she is is by sleeping her way to the top…
TRUMP: Got receipts?
LACIVITA: None, yet. But there’s some rumors she slept around a little in the Bay area when she started out there. So we’re planting the story and watching what happens.
TRUMP: Love it!!! Anyone helping?
LACIVITA: Megyn Kelly, of all people – she’s come around more lately. She’s been dropping that little gem on her talk show and podcast…still an influencer even though you pretty well destroyed her at Fox.
TRUMP: OK, good. But I mean, call Pecker, too. He needs to get on it.
WILES (clearing throat): Well, sir. As you remember, David is no longer at The Enquirer. Not since 2019.
TRUMP: What the hell … (he then remembers Pecker is long gone as a member of his team. He briefly shakes his head at the loss).
Who else is stepping up?
WILES: Well, J.D. has been out calling her infertile and living with cats.
TRUMP: Oh, Jeeze. Vance…that idiot. Who agreed to bring him on board?
LACIVITA: (clearing throat) Uh, you did, sir. At Don Junior’s suggestion.
TRUMP: Well, you should have known better than to ever listen to him. How are Vance’s numbers?
LACIVITA: Room for growth, sir.
NAUTA (angrily turning on the advisors in tattletale fashion): CNN shows him having the lowest favorability of any VP since 2000.
TRUMP: (Throws a plate of fries at the wall.) This isn’t my fault! You should have nixed it. That’s what I’m paying you for. Remind me to cut off Donnie Boy’s allowance. He probably got the idea from his girlfriend Kim. She used to live in San Francisco…probably a Gavin Newsom spy.
LACIVITA: She was married to him long ago, sir.
TRUMP: What the f—?
WILES: Just one caution, Mr. President. We’re all for going hard on Harris, but we’ve got to be careful. It may backfire.
TRUMP: Whaddya mean, backfire?
WILES: Well, we’ve known since Dobbs that Democrats have been consistently leading with suburban women at least by about 10 percent since early this year. And we expect that number to go higher with Harris. Slut-shaming Harris may make matters worse, especially this close to November.
TRUMP: You let me and my Congressional friends worry about that. They know how not to leave fingerprints. Nobody will know where the stuff is coming from.
WILES: (Trying to back out the door) Okay. Anything you say, Mr. President. We’ll get back to you with more ideas…
TRUMP: That’s it? You’re leaving and all you’ve got so far are plastic straws? You should have seen this Biden thing coming! We’ve spent four f-ing days talking about Biden in prime time. Now, none of that matters! (He throws a tray of ketchup, mustard, relish, and onions, all splattering against the wall.) See, look what you made me do!
(Wiles and LaCivita leave hurriedly, not stopping to look at the three full trays worth of food now dripping down the wall.)
NAUTA: Would you like me to re-order your lunch, Mr. President?
TRUMP: Yeah, and make it snappy (Trump scoops some Big Mac detritus off the wall and licks it with his index finger).
NAUTA: Sure thing, Mr. President! Before I do, shall I ask your secretary to send an F.U. letter to Mr. Musk?
TRUMP: What for?
NAUTA: Well, he’s backed out of last month’s pledge to give $45 million a month to your campaign. On Monday, he told the Wall Street Journal it’s “simply not true” (he makes air quotes with his fingers).
TRUMP: No. Just send Elon a standard copy of our 2025 plan and underline the section that explains I will control all the activities of the Department of Justice.
NAUTA: (Chuckling) Will do, sir. I’m on it!
TRUMP: Oh, and Walter. Make sure everything’s ready for my 3 p.m. tee time.
–trg
Who I write for…
Thank you so much for reading! Please leave a comment.