Trump and Theresa: A love story

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(Image via @UKDemockery)

Due to Australia being regarded as the southern home of his kindred spirits, President Trump allowed an Australian journalist to be a fly on the wall at his historic meeting with Prime Minister Theresa May.

TRUMP: Fuck Theresa. You’re gorgeous. You look hot, hot, hot in red.

THERESA: Really, Donald? Thank you. I was thinking of wearing blue, but that may have been a tad Hillary for you.

TRUMP: Good idea. We’re all a bit over Hill, rather than over the hill, now. Some of the stories Bill has told me about that woman, I tell you, that man deserves a fucking medal for sticking with her. Some of the shit he’s had to put up with.

THERESA: It does cut both ways Donald. A bit like trade. Imports and exports. If we can get on to that.

TRUMP: In due course. First off, I think we need to discuss the terms of this meeting. I said I am happy for the U.S. to foot the bill for the beverage and bikkies, as long as there were five or less advisors with you. I don’t want the American taxpayer to be put under extra financial stress. Not that I’m an American taxpayer myself.

THERESA: Well I only have the one advisor with me: Roger Windsor, as you can see.

TRUMP: One. Only one! By my count, I can see at least 75 advisors of yours here in the office. Pull the other chain Theresa. You didn’t work as a journalist, did you, before you entered politics?

THERESA: Of course not. I only have Roger with me.

TRUMP: [Presses his intercom.] Get Spicer in here.

[Within seconds, Sean Spicer enters the Oval Office.]

TRUMP: How many British advisors can you see here now, Sean?

SPICER: Well, by my count, it’s …

TRUMP: Is it 75?

SPICER: Well, actually. Yes it is ... or near enough to 75.

TRUMP: Thank you Sean. You can go.

TRUMP: Good person, Sean.

Well, Theresa. Seeing you’ve gone way over our agreed number, are you prepared for England to foot the catering bill for our meeting?

THERESA: Well, yes. I suppose so.

[Spicer leaves.]

TRUMP: Can you vouch that none of your 75 advisors come from the seven nations I have recently announced a visa ban on?

THERESA: Roger. You’re not Libyan, Syrian, Somalian, Iranian, etc, etc, are you?

ROGER: Not from the look of me, and I don’t remember any swarthy, bearded uncles at any of our Christmas dinners railing on about how Santa Claus is an evil anti-Allah infidel.

TRUMP:  Good. Now Theresa. Can I interest you in building a wall around England? I can get my son to personally handle it. He’s running all my businesses now. Our construction company is second to none. We’ll do it for you, better and cheaper than any fucking Chinese company ever could.

THERESA: No need, Donald. We are basically an island.

TRUMP: Well, what about keeping out the Welsh and the Scots?

THERESA: Thank you, but no. Can we look at NATO and trade?

TRUMP: I’ll tell you what. Clear the room of all your advisors and we can get into some really serious negotiations.

THERESA: OK. Roger. Can you leave and please take the other 74 advisors with you.

ROGER: Yes Ma’am

[Roger leaves.]

TRUMP: Good. Now that it’s just you and me. How it works is this. Show me one of your tits and I’ll pump some air into NATO’s tyres for you. Show me both tits and I’ll come across with a juicy bilateral trade agreement and I’ll throw in the cost of today’s catering.

Well. What do you say Theresa?

We should find out in the next few weeks what Theresa said.

Rocky Dabscheck is a musician/songwriter and front person for Rocky and The Two Bob Millionaires. He is also author of Stoney Broke and The Hi-Spenders.

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