General Fiction posted February 21, 2025 Chapters:  ...4 5 -6- 7... 


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I woke up one morning feelin' ...
A chapter in the book No - Say It Ain't So!

No! Say It Ain't So! Ch 6

by Wayne Fowler


In the last chapter Trump and Tom connived as to dealing with the Vice President, settling on having him investigate the Supreme Court Justices. Trump then made phone calls and arrangements to visit NATO headquarters and Kyiv, Ukraine, threatening Putin for misbehavior.
 
Chapter Six
 
(Phil's POV)

    The Secret Service was a bit of a hard sell, having Tom nearby nearly constantly. I didn’t care what they thought. Let them think we were lovers, I didn’t care. The bottom line was that I didn’t entirely trust them. We all saw the man on the roof who was somehow allowed to take multiple shots at Trump. We all heard how it seemed they were complicit in getting Trump to the Capital Building on January sixth. And we all learned about the farce behind the disappearance and destruction of the agents’ cell phones.

    No doubt they researched Tom’s background the same as I had. Fine. They saw a good American. An ex-Marine who was not gay. And they knew Trump’s penchant. So, again, the bottom line was that they couldn’t object to his presence.

    The problem I saw, was that Tom was in as much danger, if not more, than I was. Tom was a pawn. Pawns get knocked over all the time. I was the King. When the King is toppled, actions have to stand up to super scrutiny. There would be no such scrutiny for Tom. And Tom stood in the way of getting to me, as somebody, or bodies, were by now aware.

    What Tom had been busy at on this trip, besides making sure that my clean skivvies came from his own bags, was to watch what food and drink I was offered, where it came from, who carried it, that no particular plate had been handled differently. Only once did he rush to hand me an unopened bottle of water, making me know that he’d either seen hanky-panky with my water glass or simply could not guarantee its purity. I poured it into a nearby clean wine glass just so I wouldn’t have to try to drink from the plastic bottle the way I’d seen Trump do it on a video – trouble finding his mouth with both hands.

    The First Lady wanted to come to Washington. Why, I didn’t know. It was a reversal of the last term. I had to argue that my life, and hers, were in danger, that attempts had been made. She wanted to know what and when, that she’d heard nothing about any attempt. Of course, I couldn’t tell her – trust no one. There’s no telling how her life would change as widow of an assassinated President. All I knew was what I’d seen on TV over the years.
 
+++
 
    In my eyes, the European adventure was a resounding success. Zelenskyy and I parted as partners if not friends. Well, probably not friends, but I could tell he was more at ease. I really wanted to suggest he put a 2,000-pounder on top of the North Koreans, but I didn’t dare. If that somehow got to Kim Jong-Un…

There was applause after my NATO speech – muted, but at least they didn’t throw rotten eggs. And they offered to shake my hand. That was the best I hoped for at this stage.

    Putin made a speech that every Russian television channel carried. He ignored that I… Trump, went to Ukraine but did report that NATO put on an amateurish display of airpower that with nothing in reserve, could have been forfeited in minutes. His graphic was a chess board depicting all eight pawns simultaneously advancing two squares.

    Tom suggested I divert the return flight to Scotland, paying Trump a million or so at his golf course. Sounded like the right thing to do only… I don’t play golf. It would be funny, though, to let the world see Trump stumbling all over himself, scoring two or three hundred, breaking all his clubs. Nah. I had Tom look up the symptoms of bursitis and then babied my right elbow. I rode in the cart, though, making sure everyone else paid, I mean played.

Dr. Schweitz was ready for me when we returned, seeing me on the third floor. He was curious about Tom, but didn’t say anything. I’m sure that he was on to me. Not that I wasn’t Trump. He’d never seen Trump before seeing me as Trump. I think, though, that he didn’t believe I had bursitis. He probably thought I just didn’t want to play golf anymore. Some men my age can’t stand the steady decline in their game – too much pride. He said that he would send over some ibuprofen and to take two tablets… as needed.

Fine. I would flush four tablets each day down the commode.
 
+++
 
    The next morning on my walk to the Oval Office I could tell things were different. People who were talking, stopped talking as soon as they heard or saw me approach. Everybody knows what that means… they’re talking about you. And not in a good way. Were they getting suspicious? Were they plotting? I would have to show my Trump.

    The TV in my bedroom had DVR. And I knew how to use it. I skimmed through the PBS News Hour every night. Last night I noticed that there was no negative press about me. The jet/helicopter crash was old news. My ridiculous comment was all but forgotten. I would have to show my Trump. Do something despicable that I would hate – tariffs. On our friends: Canada and Mexico.

    I knew full well that tariffs would be inflationary. And retaliatory tariffs would hurt our exports and our employment. People’s disposable income would drop and the unemployment rate would rise. Everything would spiral. Recession and maybe even depression would be the natural result. And not just in America. Free trade was good for the whole world. The Republicans knew this for decades. They campaigned on it.

    Tom suggested I tour an arms manufacturing plant. I have to admit it would be brilliant. I could have Trump blaze away at a paper target of a human being. But I couldn’t do it. The next school shooting would be on me. At least in my mind it would be.

    That evening my special phone rang. It startled me because I didn’t know what the noise was. I mean, I was sure it’s a telephone ring, but I’d never heard it before, didn’t even know the particular ring – a traditional clanging bell. It was Hakeem Jeffries.

    “Mr. President, I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

    “No, Hakeem. What’s up?”

    “Sir, I know you said to only use this in an emergency, for really important things, but I feel this qualifies.”

    “Sure, Hakeem. What is it?”

    “Well, sir, first of all, congratulations on your U.N. and European tour. No one could have done better. Second, the tariffs. I know you hate hurting working America, but it was a good move politically. But what I really called about is a voting rights bill that’s coming up. There’s a small chance we can pass it.”

    “You want me to…”

“No, sir,” Hakeem interrupted. “If you’re asked about it, if you would just say something like that’s a state issue, you aren’t getting involved. And just decline to make phone calls to the GOP congressmen and women.”

    “I can do that, easily.” The easily was a Trumpism. I was trying to speak more like him, but I hated throwing it in here.

    “Thank you, sir. And I just want to tell you that you know who isn’t happy, but he’s getting fed and cared for.

    He was talking about me, Phil Jansen. “Thank you, Hakeem. I just hope when we switch back I don’t have to take off a hundred pounds.”

    Hakeem laughed, still laughing as I broke the connection.
 




photo from FanArtReview: FamousHouse!20 by nikman

Phil Jansen: woke up one day as Donald Trump
Donald Trump: woke up one day as Phil
Tom McQuin: White House butler
Betty Goodman: White House Chief of Staff
Dr. Schweitz: White House doctor
Hakeem Jeffries: as himself, House minority leader
Kirsten: Trump press secretary
Pays one point and 2 member cents.

Artwork by nikman at FanArtReview.com

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