General Fiction posted March 22, 2025 | Chapters: |
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I woke up this mornin' feelin' fine..
A chapter in the book No - Say It Ain't So!
NO! Say It Ain't So! Ch 31
by Wayne Fowler

In the last chapters, Tom and Trump (Phil) made their escape from Schlape’s people.
Tom rescues Trump (Phil) from Schlape’s pursuit and sets him up back in the first safe house.
Tom rescues Trump (Phil) from Schlape’s pursuit and sets him up back in the first safe house.
Chapter Thirty-one
Trump (Phil)
(Friday morning in Mar-a-Lago)
(Friday morning in Mar-a-Lago)
“Why are-rent there reds?”
“Sir?” The Mar-a-Lago facilities manager who met Trump’s entourage had not the faintest clue.
“I want red flags, red carpets, red trash cans with red liners. Reds. Everybody on the grounds wears red hats. See to it.”
“But sir. Those are white MAGA hats. Much more stately, don’t you think? These people don’t…”
I gave him my felon look.
“I’ll put out a memorandum,” the man said.
“What’s on the menu today?”
The manager appeared perplexed. “Sir, it’s the standard menu. It hasn’t changed in over a year, but we can accommodate any taste, sir. Is there something you would like them to prepare?”
“Yes, there is, as a matter of fact. I want a roasted pig. With an apple in it’s mouth. A red one.”
The manager looked like he would explode. He was turning red. “Sir, perhaps tomorrow the chef can arrange something on that order.”
I felt like he was hoping I would forget such a ridiculous request of Mar-a-Lago chefs.
“See, cooking time alone makes that an impossibility. Sir, it would take most of the morning to procure such a beast.”
“Then Big Macs for everyone.” At that I made a hard right walking away from him fast enough that I might fall. I made sure to make some sort of silly or stupid face to everyone who made signs of familiarity. Eventually, I made it to my suite. Where I made all the attendants leave. No one bothered me.
Don Junior called and wanted to come over to talk to me about what had happened in DC. I told him that I wouldn’t let him in unless he was prepared to take a drug test, that if a drug test was good enough for Hunter Biden, it was good enough for him. I ranted on about how much better we are than the Bidens and that we would pass drug tests every day.
I yelled that he should keep his brother away, too. Then I started all over until I was sure he’d hung up.
I found a news channel that wasn’t FOX. The reporters tried to be nice when speaking of me, but they were having quite a time of it. When a report from the Senate Judiciary Committee came up, there wasn’t a single Senator with anything negative to say about my two nominees to the Supreme Court. There were what I’d call hardball legal questions, but nothing the two couldn’t field. Hakeem did well putting them on top of the list.
Believe it or not. I found the cartoon version of The Hobbit, the Rankin-Bass adaptation. Should anyone gain entry, or discover what I’d watched, this could go a long way toward Tom’s and my plan. But on a personal note, I thought it was very entertaining. It had been a long time since I’d read the book.
I asked for my hamburger to be sent to the suite. And then the same for supper. After the movie I managed a five-minute nap. I really would have liked to have had a longer nap but since Tom was going to try to make the real Trump stay awake as far into the night as possible, I went to bed early, setting my alarm for two AM. I was sure Tom could make it that long. I’d do better Saturday night.
I was glad that I’d brought a couple novels. There was nothing in the suite. And quality reading was contrary to the message I wanted to leave among the Mar-a-Lago crowd. The night was not fun. I managed to wait until six to order breakfast sent to the suite – porridge and a boiled potato. No one would believe the exchange that that entailed.
“Porridge, sir? Do you mean oatmeal?”
“Does oatmeal sound anything like porridge?”
“Would the President prefer Malto Meal, or the Cream of Wheat variety?”
“Por-ridge!”
“And the baked potato sir? Anythi…”
“Boiled potato! Bo-iled. The size of a baseball. In fact, carve baseball stitching on it.” That was when I hung up. I’m sure that story would make the rounds.
I stopped drinking coffee when Tom called, so after my horrible breakfast, I was ready for a real nap. Golf on TV helped.
+++
Trump (Phil)
(Saturday afternoon)
(Saturday afternoon)
Lunch was special. I had a bite of several entrees and sent them back, vociferously. Everyone who fawned over me got a goofy grin and something or other that agreed how good I was. Unless they were female, they only got the clown face. I waited until someone approached who I’m certain was close with the real Trump who was long-winded. Mid-sentence I suddenly stood, tipping over a water glass, and then turned away, walking off.
While still in the dining area, loud enough to be heard by everyone, I called for Jeremy, the manager. I only wanted him for my next project, but allowed the diners to believe I was going to complain.
“Jeremy, I want to go out and look at the grounds over by the tennis courts.”
“The tennis courts, sir?”
It had gotten to be a routine. Every outrageous thing I said was repeated back to me as a question. That told me I was on the right track.
“Your cart. Sir?”
“I want to walk.”
What I hoped to convey was that I’d gone off the deep end, and that was what could explain my aberrant political behavior that they’d heard about in the news.
“I don’t like tennis, Jeremy. Back and forth, back and forth. And it’s not a good sport for me. Never was. Except when I was in college. Then I could play. The girls, you know. That was their sport. But I don’t like tennis. All this land. You see all this land over there?” I pointed to the clear lawns to the north of the tennis courts.
“I would like to have a Disneyland here for our members. You know Disneyland? Very popular. But our kind of people can’t go to Disneyland. There are too many of their kind of people. Did you know that you have to wait all day long to go on one ride? We wouldn’t have that. Two minutes. That’s it. People don’t like to wait more than two minutes. Many people are saying that. They want a Disneyland that they can take their grandchildren to. Did you know that my own grandchildren have never been to Disneyland? So we can tear out the tennis courts. I don’t like tennis.” I gave Jeremy an opening as I sucked air between my teeth.
“Mr. President, I can certainly take it up with the board.”
“The board?” I let it drop after that. I’d made my point. “Where’s my cart? I always drive my cart.”
“Here you are, sir.” A Secret Service agent ushered me to a golf cart.
“Take me to a jewelry store.”
“Sir, that takes coordination with the Secret Service adjutant as well as the local police. And we would need to vet the jeweler first.”
It sounded plausible. I considered bucking the entire system, but if I got out there and got myself shot, the courts and Congress and the entire press community would support the former Vice President revoking his resignation.
“Fine! Send me a jeweler with a sampling of gold bands. I’ll be in my suite.” But I didn’t immediately return to my suite.
+++
Once back at the main building, I announced that I wanted a boat ride. An attendant… one that I suppose was assigned to see that I was never without one, must have been new.
“Are you sure, sir? The last time…”
He caught himself but it was too late. “Who said I threw up? I didn’t throw up. Who said that I threw up?” Those people lingering roundabout, wanting to be proximate to power, all edged back. There was a circle of void around me.
I looked around at them. Most averted their eyes at the last moment. “I’m going to be the first Mars immigrant. Elon said so.” That ought to get their tongues wagging. I couldn’t help but smile. I was the only one.
I spied a bouquet on a side table. It was actually beautiful… until I pulled a wad of the blooms from the middle and crammed the stems into my suit jacket pocket. I worked at them long enough to make a spectacle of myself doing it, as well as a clown walking around with the mess sticking out of my pocket. I walked all over the building looking like that, offering a variety of faces, speaking to no one.
It worked out that I was in my suite when the jeweler arrived. I picked out a very nice quarter-inch band with a glittery, geometric polished finish. I ordered him to inscribe at least twelve Middle Earth Rune shapes, I didn’t care which or any particular order, for him to just make the lettering attractive. He sized the middle finger of my right hand and promised Monday delivery.
Just before the dinner hour, I called Jeremy’s number and asked for a plate of cheeses and a jar of pickled beets brought to my suite. I sent the beets back down with the attendant, telling him that I had not ordered them. I ate some of the cheese and went to bed to read, again with my alarm set for two.
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
Pate': 3rd daughter of the President
Robert Schlape: fixit man for Trump (using his real name, even here in FanStory, could be fatal)
2 more posts to end this tale
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. 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
Pate': 3rd daughter of the President
Robert Schlape: fixit man for Trump (using his real name, even here in FanStory, could be fatal)
2 more posts to end this tale
Artwork by nikman at FanArtReview.com






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