George Orwell wrote Animal Farm because he was concerned about Stalinism. In the book, the animals overthrow the farmer and take control of the farm. Well, we have a new ism and it’s called Trumpism, and it’s by far the dumbest ism ever. Our current farm is located at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue. It perpetually smells from all the steaming horseshit and is run by a pig, along with all of his sheep.

Trump: {In the Oval Office} We’ve overthrown the Democrats, with our clever ploy of barging into every room, and refusing to leave. When does my reign of terror start?

Pence: November 8, 2016.

Trump: {Looking at his Game of Thrones 2019 Calendar} What? It’s not even November yet Mike … and the media thinks I’m the stupid one.

Barr: I’ve been to almost every country, trying to get leaders to help investigate the origins of the Russia probe but no one wants to touch it.

Trump: Did you try some of the shithole countries?

Barr: Which ones are those?

Trump: The ones without McDonald’s.

Barr: Yes, those too.

Mulvaney: Should I hold another press briefing about Ukraine?

Trump: No, you’re worse than Giuliani and that’s why I have him locked up in the White House basement, along with my dumbass son-in-law Jarred.

Pence: I’m going to make sure everyone gets a copy of the Seven Commandments of Trumpism.

Trump: Oh yes, tell me what those are again.

Pence: Well, you copied the first three directly from the Ten Commandments. Have no other Gods before Trump, no graven images or likenesses, unless it is a really cool action figure of Trump and do not take Trump’s name in vain.

Trump: Yeah, I read through the other commandments and I didn’t like them, especially the one about adultery.

Pence: Anyway, the others are, whistle-blowers will be subject to death, Democrats are the enemy, the press is forbidden from reporting any bad news about Trump and McDonald’s must serve the McRib all year around.

Trump: I really want a McRib now. Mick, since you’re completely useless, how about picking me up a McRib and a large chocolate shake.

{Mulvaney leaves the room}

Trump: {Looks at Barr} I want you to get rid of him. Send him to Siberia.

Barr: Why Siberia?

Trump: Putin will make sure he disappears, so I never have to see his rat face again.

Barr: What am I supposed to tell the public?

Trump: No one will even notice that he’s gone, just tell them he went to a ski resort.

Pompeo: I have a new conspiracy theory to promote. We could say that Alexander Graham Bell never invented the telephone; therefore, the telephone doesn’t exist; ergo, the Ukraine call never happened.

Trump: There’s a transcript though and telephones do exist. They’re everywhere; I have one on my desk.

Pompeo: The phone is just a deep state conspiracy.

Trump: Telephones exist and not even that nutball Hannity could sell that one.

Pompeo: Phones don’t exist; just say it a few times and see if you like the sound of it.

Trump: Are you blind? There’s a secure phone on my desk; I use it to drunk call Kim Jong-un. You need to go see Mnuchin’s optometrist.

Pompeo: Is there really a phone there though? {winks}

Trump: Goddamnit! Stop winking at me. {Rips phone out of the wall and hurls it at Pompeo, hitting him in the head}

Barr: {Checks Pompeo’s pulse} You killed Mike.

Trump: {Sits back in his chair with his feet on the desk} Good, that’s one less person I’ll have to fire later for leaking the dumbshit that comes out of this administration. I am the king; no one can ever remove me from this office.

{Nancy Pelosi enters}

Pelosi: That’s where you’re wrong. {Takes off her Anne Klein pumps with orthopedic inserts}

{Barr and Pence make a swift exit}

Trump: Your standing in front of me, and pointing an old lady finger at me days are over cat lady. {Takes off his ridiculously long circus-like tie}

Pelosi: {Lunges at him with one of her pumps}

Trump: {Dodges her and tries to rap his tie around her throat}

Pelosi: {Grabs an Orange You Gorgeous spray can from his desk, and sprays him in the face} Die you orange fascist!

{Mulvaney enters with Trump’s shake and the McRib}

Trump: {Blinded, staggers into the American flag and bumps into Mulvaney, who drops the food} Don’t let it hit the ground!

{Mulvaney dives to catch the flag before it hits the ground}

Trump: No you idiot; not the flag, my McRib.

{Mulvaney saves the flag but the McRib lands on the carpet. The shake splatters over a dead Pompeo.}

Trump: {Grief stricken, he lovingly picks up the McRib with microfiber carpet hairs} You may have won this time, with your seasonal Chico’s couture but you haven’t seen the last of Donald J. Trump. {Leaves in tears}

Pelosi: {Clutching her pearls, turns to Mulvaney} You look familiar; are you one of the kitchen staff?