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The Orange Man and The Virus

satire. obviously

The orange man sat in an office that was far too big for him, metaphorically and physically.

He looked at the pictures of it’s past residents on the walls.

They all stared at him with open contempt.

He would have to do something about that.

He pulled out his executive notebook and jotted down a bullet point. The first for the day.

He sighed, exhausted.

No more work until tomorrow.

It’s hard being president.

He sat in his chair and turned on the television.

He had reports to read but the television was much easier. Bite sized news. Plus it was also in color. The reports never had pictures.

He flicked to the first channel.

That South African boy talking about impeachment. Again.

He grabs the remote and changes the channel in anger.

Everyone laughing that he has small hands.

Irritated, he reaches for a Big Mac.

He grabs it with one hand.

He couldn’t do that if he had small hands, could he?

He munches absentmindedly as he considers his fate.

All he wanted was some free press. A few more millions added to each endorsement deal.

Did they really think he could suddenly make everything great again?

He switches the channel.

China. China. China.

New super-power.

He scoffs.

He has been to China. They eat with sticks.

How great can they really be?

Time passes.

He misses golf.

Another meeting. This time with a group of slack jawed scientists.

They mouth facts and figures. He nods and asks questions so it seems he is listening.

He isn’t.

One of the scientists says something that finally grabs his attention. They have weaponized the flu and created an antidote.

They call it COVID-19.

The wheels begin to spin in his head, his personal hamster running for the first time in years.

He sees it all at once.

A SEAL team will deliver a small dose to an animal market in Wuhan, China.

The infection will spread.

They will panic.

The talk of impeachment will stop.

No one will be able to go outside.

No more South Africans making fun of his small hands.

He will come in the 11th hour with the cure held aloft like Christ.

He will win the next election.

They will love him.

He will make everything great again.

He beams.

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