From: joemahoney1950@gmail.com   
      
   Air Force One descends, its eastern european engines puttering, from the   
   frigid, gusting skies.  The portal opens, and artificial fog billows forth,   
   following by pulsating disco music and penetrating laser beams.  President   
   Trump steps down, his demeanor    
   dignified as always, but searching.  At his left is a squat, oily Asian man in   
   a tunic; at his right is a bare-chested, black-eyed, waxy-complexioned man of   
   Russia.   
      
   Trump surveys the flooded marshlands, the snow mounds, the smoldering ruins,   
   the overturned automobiles, and the lifeless human bodies.  He nods,   
   all-knowingly.    
   Then, he kneels, beseeching the Heavens, as terra cotta tears stream from his   
   squinting dark eyes.   
      
   A rumbling is heard -- or felt, like the rumbling you feel when you haven't   
   eaten in minutes and you know your Domino's Delivery, with extra cheese and   
   bacon fries + gollick bread on the side, is on its way.   
      
   Slowly, the dried wilted plants begin to rise, like Michael Jackson's   
   grotesqueyly mottled penis in the presence of McCauley Culkin.  They sprout   
   marigold and bergonia flowers.  The wind, the rain, the snow stops, and the   
   clouds evaporate, revealing a    
   raw sienna sky.  For the first time in years, the sun shows itself, an   
   enormous tangerine with a stringly metallic-yellow top, a pitted nose, sagging   
   cheeks, and a triple chin.  And the corpses return to life, to praising their   
   president, to yearning for    
   the great WALL they know he will soon create.   
      
   The President Smiles all-knowingly, gives a wave, and boards his spaceship   
   once again, Vlad and Kim at his side.     
      
   The balance is restored.  And God is Happy, once again...   
      
   Joe "Spiritual not religious" M   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)