The Emperor’s New Poll

Once upon a time there lived a Great Man who was emperor of MAGAland. The emperor loved to take long, full pressure showers to cleanse his luxuriant hair. He loved gold and had his throne room decorated with this shiny metal in the most gaudy and ostentatious ways. He loved having a new beautiful empress every decade or so to help produce an heir or two for the throne. But most of all, the emperor loved the adulation and love of his people. He required constant praise and flattery or he would descend into a temper tantrum that all MAGAland would regret.

One day, a lowly pollster went out into the crowds of MAGAland and dared to ask the people how they honestly felt about the emperor and his policies. The results were disturbingly horrible, but the lowly pollster decided, in his lack of wisdom, to publish them anyways.

The crones and lackies working for the emperor brushed these polls off as inconsequential and worthless. They told the emperor that these polls belonged to the previous ruler. They told the emperor that other polls showed approval by a vast majority of the people.

But evil-minded reporters seized upon these poll results and confronted a high level lacky. The lacky responded that the lowly pollster should be fired. Then the emperor made polling a crime and arrested the lowly pollster.

A child of ten years was reading the poll results on a cellphone newsfeed. He wondered out loud, “Why, the emperor’s new poll shows that most people believe he is doing a horrible job!”

Suddenly, the door to his home burst open and in rushed six heavily armed ICE agents. The child and his family were immediately deported.

The End.

Trumpty Dumpty

Once upon a time there lived a Great Man named Trumpty Dumpty who was king of MAGAland. He loved bragging about how great he was. He bragged how he was the only person who could fix all the damage brought about by previous rulers. He even bragged that he could build a wall, though that remained to be seen.

One day, the economy was doing particularly well and the people worshipped and praised their lofty 401k’s. But Trumpty Dumpty felt the people were no longer praising him. He needed to do something. So, he decided to cause economic chaos and release the dragon Tariff from its cage.

But Trumpty Dumpty never expected that the dragon would devour everything in the market and poop on the economy. Being the Great Man that he was, Trumpty Dumpty told his people “There will be pain, but in the end it will all be glorious and beautiful”. The people rejoiced because their wise king knew what was best for them, even if it felt like red-hot pokers being jabbed into their eyes and other orifices.

Soon things became even worse, as the dragon grew larger and larger. Each day it would eat more of the market. Prices rose and incomes fell. The people were upset, so they went to their king. He told them “This is all the fault of the previous ruler.”

The MAGAland people all believed Trumpty Dumpty, for they knew he was wise, cared for his people and never would lie to them. So, they sat in their dilapidated hovels, ate scraps and slop and lived happily ever after.

The End.

The Orange Pinocchio

Once upon a time, there lived a wealthy man named Fredpetto. He was a slum lord and wished to have a real son to follow in his path. One night, he wished upon a star and a lovely lady appeared. “Fedpetto,” she said, “your wish will be granted. That lump of coal over there will be brought to life and become your son. His name is Pinocchio.”

The lady waved a magic wand, and the lump of coal formed into beautiful white boy child. He moved around like a boy, but was pale and looked more like the Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Pinocchio, you must always tell the truth, or you will turn into an orange.”

The little boy Pinocchio followed Fredpetto about the slums and soon learned all about cheating and corrupt business practices from his father. Fredpetto was proud, so he treated Pinocchio with all the cruelty and poor parenting he deserved.

Pinocchio grew up and built upon the slum lord empire of Fredpetto. But to do so, he had to lie repeatedly. Soon, he was turning more orange with every passing day. After a few hundred thousand lies, Pinocchio finally became a full-fledged naval orange.

All the people of MAGAland rejoiced. Because orange was their favorite complexion color, they made Pinocchio the king. Pinocchio ruled the land with an iron fist, sharing all the cruelty and poor leadership he learned from Fredpetto. The people of MAGAland lived happily ever after.

The End.

The Boy Who Cried Vermouth

Once upon time in MAGAland, there lived a shepherd boy named Peter who had a pet fox. The fox was not important, but it does give us a better chance to identify the boy. In fact, the fox won’t be mentioned in the rest of the story. This boy had bad habits of drinking too much alcohol, making multiple repeated errors of judgment and saying confusing things to all who would listen.

Every day the boy would go out to the fields to manage his flock of sheep. And every night, he would chat that Vermouth was out there threatening the sheep of MAGAland and here were the plans to defeat it. Because Vermouth was a dangerous creature that threatened all MAGAland sheep, all the armed men in the village would rush in to attack the beast with the plans Peter chatted to them. But not every one in the chat was privy to these secret plans. In fact, one such person ran the local newspaper.

Peter did this several times, but each time he had a different excuse and different people were allowed in the chat without permission. When he was asked why this happened, he said that it was a mistake, it would never happen again and that it was the fault of the previous ruler.

One of Peter’s sub-shepherds was blamed for the whole mess and was removed from tending to the flock. Later, he was offered an amazing political appointment with tons of perks.

The End.

The Little Red Ham

Once upon a time, there was a little red ham named Donald. Whenever he did anything bad, like not lowering egg prices, he would be the first one to blame somebody else. The little red ham discovered that so many bad things he did were now coming home to roost. One day, he was surrounded by dozens of angry chickens who demanded his response to questions they had.

The first chicken asked “Who crashed the stock market?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “It must have been Biden.”

One more chicken asked “Who ramped up inflation?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “That also was Biden.”

The next chicken asked “Who fired all those government workers?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “It must have been Elon.”

Another chicken asked “Who closed all those health programs?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “It must have been Bobby Junior.”

Yet another chicken asked “Who insulted all those foreign dignitaries?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “It must have been J.D.!”

Still another chicken asked “Who threatened to take over Canada and Greenland?”

“Not I,” said the little red ham. “It must have been Marco. And you’re a nasty woman.”

The last chicken asked “Who put in all those tariffs?”

“I did,” said the little red ham. “Aren’t they the most beautiful things you ever saw?”

The End.

The Fox and the Gripes

Once upon a time, there was an old fox who liked to think of himself as the smartest fox in the room. He regularly boasted about his knowledge of the Declaration of Independence. He claimed to know more about medicine than doctors, more about science than scientists and more about economics than economists. He said he knew more about money matters than the Fed Chair. In fact, he was the self-acknowledged stable genius on every topic known to fox-kind.

His only problem was that he loved to complain. He complained about everything in his home. He complained about everything in his country. He complained about everything in the world. His complaints were non-stop, except when he ate cheeseburgers with ketchup and tweeted messages late at night. In fact, those messages were either complaints or orders for more cheeseburgers.

One day, he was getting up in the morning and made his way to the kitchen for breakfast. On the counter top, there was a bowl of luscious gripes. The fox dearly wanted to eat the gripes for his meal, but could not reach the bowl. So, he jumped as high as he could, but still failed to get to the bowl. He tried to move a chair to the counter, but it was too heavy for him to budge. He tried moving a stool over, but it was wobbly and could not bear his weight. And after many attempts, the fox sulked and walked away.

“Those stupid gripes,” the fox said. “They're just old stale versions of the gripes I had yesterday. I’m sure I’ll make better gripes today.”

The End.