The Mass Impeachment: A Satirical Premonition of a Great America

As Devin Nunes recuses himself from heading the congressional investigation into alleged Trump-Russia collusion, presumably to prepare a sturdy defence counsel for his own impending investigation, we envision a litigation-littered future for President Trump and his team.

 

It is with much bemusement that I must report on 16th August 2017, the entirety of the Cabinet of the United States of America, the Speaker of the House, and the President pro tempore were brought to trial. Earlier in that same month, the aforementioned were impeached en masse – the liberal media being incapable of the mass comically satisfying assassination we would have all preferred. Instead, after the volume of petitions calling for the unprecedented impeaching of every single member of the nation’s executive branch surpassed the number of books in the Library of Congress, we will have our day (or rather many, many days) in court.

 

These were not merely frivolous impeachments by association. As one might impugn the Witch-king for being a chum to Sauron, each came with weight. There was Vice-President Mike Pence’s repeated attempts to turn the White House into an arm of the evangelical church. Treasury Secretary Stephen Mnuchin foreclosed somewhere in the region of 300 federal properties, the proceeds of which have mysteriously vanished from the national balance sheet. Attorney General Jeff Sessions for the discriminatory nature of the enormous “No (More) Blacks” sign he had erected on the White House lawn; Stephen Bannon for twice returning the sign after its removal. Homeland Security chief John F. Kelly for similar reasons; his billboards outside major US cities telling Latinos “to go back to Tacoland” were somehow less tasteful. Elaine Chao was caught for good old-fashioned embezzlement.

 

The charge against Education Secretary Betsy DeVos was that her “Raise ‘Em on Jesus” federal policy was so unconstitutional as to be an attack on the idea of America. Kellyanne Conway found herself in the dock for having set up a Trump branded gift shop hawking Melania and Ivanka’s tat outside the Oval Office. Health don Tom Price’s closest advisors were revealed to simply be a number of Big Pharma CEOs wearing Groucho Marx disguises. Mr Exxon, or Rex Killerson as he prefers, was finally exposed for running a number of ‘climate re-education’ workshops on federal ground, each consisting of incessant use of the Ludovico technique to induce climate denial. Paul Ryan and Orrin Hatch were taken in on the newly invented charge of “abhorrent moral cowardice”, perhaps the most appropriate indictment of the Grand Old Party to date. Labour Secretary Alex Acosta had wisely resigned some days before could be indicted; this was fortuitous for the court, as we actually didn’t have any charges against him, he was an alright chap all things considered.

 

Bernie Sanders, again by popular vote, was chosen to preside over the court; Hillary Clinton and Michelle Obama, for the sheer delicious joy, as his co-judges. Barack Obama sat at the back of the court each and every day, wearing his Nobel Peace Prize baseball cap and laughing with such force he nearly herniated his spleen. From his throne, which appeared to be constructed from recycled drone rotors, Mr Obama served as interim president, daily dispatches signed between fits of amusement. Melania Trump was conspicuously absent. Those close to her described her behaviour as akin to a woman at last freed from years of captivity in a sociopath’s basement.

 

When it came to reading out the list of the accused, I am led to believe it took a full hour; I say led to believe as I left for lunch at one point. Once all of the defendants were settled in, some three dozen of them from my reckoning, Mr Steven Bannon denied ever having been a member of the Nazi Party. He was not asked this, he simply denied it without prompting. Kellyanne Conway spent the duration of that first day somewhere between ecstatic relief and the acceptance of a woman about to hang. Elaine Chao’s hair did not move. I watched it every day of those trials, that woman’s hair is not even stirred by the breeze. Eerier still was the unwavering smile-cum-broken rictus plastered on Rick Perry’s venomously stupid face.

 

I could spend time detailing each of the cartoonishly off-putting expressions on the faces of his underlings, but what we’re really here for is Mr Trump himself. I have seen many a fantasist put under scrutiny – we all saw Boris Johnson run flailing armed from the Brexit Bomb – but to my dying day I will never forget the pageant of delusion I saw in that dock. I grew to have a sort of grudging respect for Trump, or at least for the inexorable depths of infernal madness – the devil lived on that man’s shoulder, the guardian angel long since suffocated in his wig. He answered every question put to him with one of a few words: “Terrific”, “Sad”, or “Lies”. Of course, he never lost his now infamous puckered canine-sphincter expression.

 

Betsy DeVos was the first to break and testify against Mr Trump, not for spite but a fundamental misunderstanding of how the American legal system functioned. Ryan Zinke danced on his own cowboy hat with excitement when Hillary Clinton promised he would not be impeached if he shopped Donald in – she lied. He was taken immediately from the court and placed on a prison barge.

 

On the fifth day of the trial, Michelle Obama cross-examined a chillingly impassive Jeff Sessions until, to the surprise of the gallery, he began screaming hysterically that if he was to burn then “all these other lying fucks” must burn with him. James “Mad Dog” Mattis, in a further shocking turn, rushed the dock and attempted to batter Sessions to death with a bagel. Rex Killerson escaped in the confusion. Both Sessions and Mattis were removed to the waiting prison barge. Mr Killerson some days later was reported to have been killed in a freak drone strike, of which Mr Obama claimed to have no knowledge.

 

Chris Christie testified in the second week against everyone not yet confined to the prison barge: Trump, Pence, Bannon, Conway, John F. Kelly, Orrin Hatch, and Paul Ryan. Ryan who had been terrifyingly silent this last fortnight stood with tears in his eyes and cried, “Et tu Chris? Et tu?” Christie could not meet Ryan’s mournful gaze and muttered his testimony to a maniacally grinning Clinton. At the end of his account, Clinton said she had all she needed to imprison Mr Ryan; he was dragged from the room, body limp with grief, wailing that he had sinned against Abraham Lincoln’s spirit.

 

By the third week of proceedings, Bannon realised he was far too evil to have anything he could trade for his freedom. He attempted to abscond to Mexico but in an irony no doubt keenly felt, he was shot dead by a now heavily militarised border patrol as he attempted to scale Mr Trump’s wall. In this week, Bill Clinton attended and joined Mr Obama in his hysterics, which had hitherto risen to glorious chanting of “Fill That Barge!” This broke the already softened Orrin Hatch, who ran to the judges and begged to be exiled. Mrs Clinton granted him his wish, and he was exiled to the prison barge.

 

In the final week of this landmark trial, John F. Kelly delivered a deeply moving confessional speech wherein he confirmed he had been seduced by promises of power into hamstringing Mrs Clinton’s campaign. The gallery was moved to tears as Mrs Clinton ordered his summary execution. He was trooped behind the Capitol Building by Mrs Clinton and had two put between his eyes by a stony faced John Kerry.

 

Thus, we moved to the closing days, after what had been a marginally less bloody trial than expected. A profusely sweating Mr Trump wiped his brow with a Moscow-made handkerchief, the now serene Kellyanne Conway, and the icily quiet Mike Pence standing side by side. Mrs Obama pronounced clemency for Conway, that she be allowed to live with the guilt of her short-term president, that life for Conway was far more hellish than death could ever be.

 

Mr Trump, before he too was taken to the prison barge, gave one final address. He said simply this, “I can’t be put in prison, I’m tremendous, I am the state.” Mike Pence roared like a lion and leaped on Mr Trump, tearing off his comb-over. Amid the blood spatters that lightly showered those behind him, we learned that in fact not just the Donald’s hairpiece had been removed. Mr Pence had scalped Mr Trump. For this public service, Mr Pence was spared a barging, and instead granted a little ranch to live out the rest of his days – on the condition that he be contractually obliged to act as a halfway house for disadvantaged transgender teens.

 

Alas, Mr Obama could not serve as POTUS again due to that tricky little thing called the US Constitution. Instead, the reptile and long-time orphan strangler Ted Cruz won the Republican nomination, and was carried on a raft of burbling discontent into the Oval Office. In the months that followed, corruption continued, lies lingered, and prejudice persevered. It seems that no matter how many monsters you kick out from under the bed, there will always be a new bogey bastard ready to take its place. Perhaps it’s high time we got a new bed altogether.

 

(Update: I have been informed that Mr Exxon’s surname is in fact Tillerson not Killerson, frankly I don’t know why anyone would name a child Rex.)

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