The Trumps – Donald, Uninvited
The Trumps is a work of “fiction,” a “satire,” a “parody.” Any resemblance to any person, living or dead, is purely “coincidental”, and this story is not meant to bear any political opinions.
“Hey, Don,” Mike Pence, Donald’s vice president at both work, and on the Neighborhood Association, said, coming into Donald’s office on a Thursday afternoon. “Are you ready for this weekend?”
“I’m as ready as a virgin’s honey pot on prom night,” Donald said. “I picked up my new clubs yesterday, and I’m dying to break ‘em in. I hope you’re ready to win.”
Mike laughed. He was about to get a witty retort out, but he was interrupted by Ivanka, Donald’s daughter. “Here comes our competition now,” Donald said, pulling his daughter in for a hug. “We’ll be playing against her and her husband.”
“Did you guys hear about Mrs. Bush?” Ivanka asked.
“No,” Donald said. “Is she the ancient old broad from two blocks over?”
“Daddy,” Ivanka said, her face serious. “Her husband was the president of the Neighborhood Association, her son was the president of the Neighborhood Association, and you beat her other son when you became president.”
“That Mrs. Bush,” Donald said. “What’s any of that have to do with me?”
“She died,” Ivanka said, “just last night.”
“OK,” Donald said shrugging. “She died.”
“Her funeral is Saturday,” Ivanka said. “Looks like we’ll have to put off golf.”
“The hell we do!” Donald snapped. “I didn’t buy these new clubs just to let them rot like Mrs. Bush! We’re all going to the club to play, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about it!”
Created, Written, and Directed by Budgerigar Orville Bigelow
Season 1, Episode 6: Donald, Uninvited
Donald came downstairs, wearing an off-white polo shirt and khakis. His clubs were propped up next to the door. Melania came downstairs next, wearing a black dress. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “Mrs. Bush and her family have been a big part of this community. Why won’t you come to her funeral?”
“She didn’t invite me,” Donald replied, crossing his arms and pushing his bottom lip forward. “Since she didn’t, I’m going to go play golf instead.”
“Is this about her being upset with you?” Melania asked. “You said some really disgusting things about her son during the Neighborhood Association elections. She was only defending him.”
“Can’t you just let it go?” Melania asked. “A funeral isn’t about being invited. It’s about showing your respect, even if it’s for someone you didn’t exactly get along with.”
Donald shrugged again, pushing his bottom lip further out.
“Fine,” Melania said. “I see I’m getting nowhere. I’ll just go by myself.”
“I don’t see a problem here,” Donald said, his pout turning into a cocky smirk.
Melania turned to him, something she wanted to say dying before it passed her lips. She turned again, and opened the door, leaving into the morning sunshine. Ivanka and Jared were already coming up the walk, and they gave each other a quick greeting before parting. “You’re really making her go by herself?” Ivanka asked. “It’s not too late to cancel golf and go, Daddy. We can make a short appearance and an excuse to leave early if you want. The cemetery is right down the road from the country club.”
“Melania wants to go by herself,” Donald said. “If you were here a minute earlier, you would have heard her say it herself. Besides, I wasn’t invited.”
“They send out invitations to funerals?” Jared asked. “Fancy!”
“No, they don’t,” Ivanka said, gently patting her husband’s arm.
“Come on,” Donald said, picking up his clubs. “Let’s get over to the course. We don’t want Mike to beat us there. He’s a real bitch if you make him wait.”
Melania walked through the Old Oaks Cemetery, following the signs to Mrs. Bush’s funeral. There were a few dozen folding chairs set up in front of the grave and casket, and she picked one in the middle, sitting down and looking forward. She tried not to worry about those watching her, likely wondering why her husband, the current president of the Neighborhood Association, didn’t come to the funeral of someone who was both a mother and a wife to two separate presidents. She could almost feel the aura of embarrassment around her.
“Mind if I sit here?” someone asked. Melania turned to see the wide smile on the mocha-colored face of Barry, the former president of the Neighborhood Association. His wife, Michelle, was next to him, wearing a black dress similar to the one she wore.
“Sure,” Melania said, offering a polite smile.
“No Donald today?” Barry asked, sitting down.
“No,” Melania said. “He wasn’t able to attend.”
“That’s a shame,” Barry said. “Mrs. Bush was a staple in our little community, and definitely played a big role in the Neighborhood Association.”
Melania looked forward, not knowing how to respond to Barry’s veiled words.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Michelle said. “It’s good to be outside, despite the circumstances.”
“Yes it is,” Barry said, taking in a long breath through his nose. “I hope my own funeral is on such a lovely day.”
Melania turned toward Barry, and she was surprised to see him stifling laughter. Michelle was doing the same, grasping her husband’s arm. “Stop it,” she said. “You’re not supposed to laugh at funerals!”
“I can’t help it,” Barry said, lowering his head and putting his hand over his mouth. “If I do this, it looks like I’m crying, right?”
Michelle hit Barry in the chest, playfully. Melania couldn’t help but be infected by the joy of Barry and his wife, and her smile widened too.
Donald, Mike, Ivanka, and Jared walked out the back doors of the country club after having a small breakfast. “Why don’t you get us some carts,” he said, addressing Mike.
“Sure thing, boss,” Mike said. “Come on, Jared.”
“OK,” Jared said, walking with Mike. He moved his hand away when Mike reached out for it.
“He’s a good man,” Donald said, watching Mike walk way. “He’s very tight and broad-shouldered too. You are Jared aren’t going to beat us easily.”
“You never know,” Ivanka said, smiling.
Donald smiled back, putting his arm around his daughter’s shoulders. “I’m so glad you came out today,” he said, pulling her against his body. “This really means a lot after all the stress I’ve been through with work and the Neighborhood Association lately.”
Ivanka pulled herself away from her handsy father. “Is everything going OK?” she asked. “I thought you had a handle on all that trouble.”
“It’s just a bunch of lies and fake news,” Donald said, waving a hand. “I keep telling everyone not to listen to it, but my haters keep spreading the lies.”
Jared and Mike pulled up, each driving their own golf cart. “It’s about time,” Donald said, walking toward them with Ivanka. “Load our clubs up, Jared. Come on, Ivanka. You’re riding with me.”
“That gives you and me some time together,” Mike said, putting his arm on Jared’s shoulder as he lugged Donald’s bag to his car. “Just us big, strong boys.”
Melania talked and laughed with Barry and Michelle once the kind words about Mrs. Bush were said and the funeral ended. “This still seems inappropriate,” Melania said.
“No,” Michelle said, reassuring Melania with a hand on her arm. “It’s fine. Look around. Everyone is having a good time.”
Melania turned her head, seeing that people had broken up into groups and were chatting. “I guess Mrs. Bush would have wanted people to come together like this,” she said. “I know I wouldn’t want everyone crying over me when I die. Not that they would.”
There was silence for a moment as Michelle and Barry shared a look. “Hey,” Barry said. “Mr. Bush and his son are free, and there’s Bill and Hillary Clinton.”
“Crooked Hillary?” Melania asked.
“Don’t call her that,” Michelle said, lowering her voice, “not to her face anyway.”
“She really hates when your husband calls her that,” Barry added. “He keeps rubbing in winning the Neighborhood Association against her every chance he gets.”
“Sorry,” Melania said, looking away. “I hear that name dozens of times a night at home.”
“You don’t have to apologize for your husband,” Michelle said. “We’re actually friends with Hillary, and her Husband ran the Neighborhood Association before Mrs. Bush’s son, George.”
“Let’s go talk to them,” Barry said. “Maybe we can get a picture with the last four former presidents of the Neighborhood Association.”
“Without Donald?” Melania asked. “He might be upset if he’s not included.”
“Then it’s too bad he couldn’t make it,” Barry said, shrugging. He got up and joined his wife, walking toward Bill and Hillary.
Melania watched them go greet the Clintons and the others. She sighed, getting up to join them as well, a genuine smile on her face.
“I didn’t shit my pants,” Donald said, driving Ivanka to the next hole.
“It’s OK, Daddy,” Ivanka replied. “You don’t have to pretend. I can smell it.”
“That was dog shit!” Donald snapped.
“There’s not any dogs around here,” Ivanka said. “Seriously, Dad, it’s not a big deal. We can get you home so you can clean up, and -”
“We have ten holes left!” Donald said, bringing his car to a stop. Mike and Jared pulled up behind him and got out of their cart.
Jared ran up to Ivanka as Donald took out his club. He looked around to see if Mike had followed. “Mister Pence keeps touching me,” he whispered.
“Don’t worry about that,” Ivanka said. “It’s just his way of being friendly. He’s always touching the guys around the office too.”
“I am worried,” Jared said. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, but it got hard. What’s that mean?”
“I don’t know, Jared,” Ivanka said.
“What’s that smell?” Mike asked.
“Some dog shit all over the place,” Donald said. “We playing golf or what?”
“You’re up, Don,” Mike said.
“Alright,” Donald said, placing a tee on the ground. He was about to make his swing when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the screen. “What the hell is this?”
Ivanka walked up to her father and looked at the screen. “Is that Melania?” she asked.
“I think so,” Donald said. “But what’s she doing with all those assholes?”
“It’s a nice picture,” Ivanka said. “She looks so happy.”
“That’s Crooked Hillary and her womanizing husband!” Donald exclaimed. “What the hell is she doing within a hundred feet of them!?”
“Dad,” Ivanka said. “Calm down.”
“And she’s with that Barry asshole too?!” Donald continued, his face turning red. “What’s she doing smiling with him!? He wasn’t even from the neighborhood!”
“I don’t see any dog shit,” Mike said, looking around.
“We’re going,” Donald said, putting his club away and climbing into the golf cart.
“Going to go home and get cleaned up?” Ivanka asked, getting in the golf cart next to her father. “I can help you if you need it.”
“No,” Donald said, driving toward the west. “We’re going to get my wife away from those filthy scumbags.”
Jared and Mike watched Donald speed off with Ivanka. “Well,” Mike said, putting his arm around Jared’s waste, “it’s just us again.”
Jared looked down toward his own crotch. “Why are you doing that?!”
“It was so nice of you to come, Mr. Bush said, holding Melania’s hand from his wheelchair. “I know there’s a been some bad blood between our families lately, and it means a lot that you’re here.”
Melania looked away, finding herself embarrassed once again for things her husband had said and done during his campaign for Neighborhood Association president. Here these people were, being nice to her when her husband alienated them as enemies. Then again, people who weren’t Donald’s enemies were few and far between.
Mr. Bush had moved on while Melania’s mind wandered off to her husband and his abrasive ways. She turned and found herself face to face with Bill and Hillary. “Hi,” she said nervously. Hillary had run a brutal campaign against Donald, and Donald had turned the heat up high, using every dirty trick in his arsenal to slander and discredit his opponent. There were even those who claimed that Hillary should be heading the Neighborhood Association, despite her loss of the election.
“It’s water under the bridge,” Hillary said, answering Melania’s unasked question, brushing some light, graying hair out of her face. “It was a long and brutal campaign for all of us.”
Melania breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m so used to being defensive,” she said. “Even in my old country, I had to watch what I said. Still, nothing is as bad as… Never mind.”
“No,” Hillary said, shaking her head. “I want to hear about your old country. I think it’s amazing you’re even here.”
“There’s not much to tell,” Melania said. “I stayed in the home until I was old enough to leave. After that, it didn’t take long for Donald to order me.”
“Order you?” Bill asked. “Are you one of those mail order brides?”
“Bill!” Hillary said, scowling toward her husband. “That’s rude!”
“Sorry,” Bill said.
“It’s OK,” Melania said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’ll be our secret then,” Hillary said, offering Melania a wide smile. “Just a little secret between friends. It’s no big deal, right?”
“OK,” Melania said. She decided it was best not to say anything else.
“What’s that noise?” Bill said, turning his head.
“It sounds like a horn,” Hillary said. She turned, along with everyone else at the funeral, toward the sound. Donald was coming, riding his golf cart between the gravestones, leaning on the cart’s horn to make sure everyone knew he was coming.
“Dear Lord,” Melania said, shaking her head.
“There she is!” Donald said, pointing toward the crowd of people who had been in attendance of Mrs. Bush’s funeral. “I knew she’d be here!”
“You already knew she was coming,” Ivanka said. “Will you get off that horn?”
Donald ignored his daughter, driving right into the funeral and stopping parallel to Mrs. Bush’s burial plot. He stepped out of the cart, finally relenting on the horn. “What do you think you’re doing, Melania?” he asked.
“I’m at a funeral,” Melania replied. “I should be asking what you’re doing.”
“I’m stopping you,” Donald said. “You’re here colluding with my enemies.”
“It’s a funeral, Donald,” Melania said. “This has nothing to do with you.”
“Doesn’t everything have to do with him?” Hillary muttered, turning and walking away with her husband.
“I heard that, Crooked Hillary!” Donald shouted. “You better stay away from my wife!”
“We were just talking!” Melania said, crossing her arms. “Besides, is there anyone who isn’t your enemy?”
“I thought you!” Donald said, getting back into the cart. “Get in the damn cart. We’re going home.”
Melania glared at Donald for a moment. He stared back, his beady eyes nearly slits. Finally, Melania sighed and relented, walking over to the golf cart. Deafening silence filled the air as she made her way toward her angry husband.
“Sit in the back with the golf bags,” Donald said. “Ivanka is riding up front with me.”
Melania nodded sadly and sat in the back with the bags, hanging on to the rails. Donald started the cart back up and drove away, parting the crowd as he did. Melania looked back at Barry, Michelle, Hillary, and all the others as she was carted off. They all gave her sad, pitying looks. She lowered her head and closed her eyes, no longer wanting to see them.
“What was that smell?” Hillary asked Barry once the cart was far enough away. “Did Donald shit himself?”
“I believe he did, Hillary,” Barry said, shaking his head. “I believe he did.”
Donald came downstairs after his shower. “I’m so glad that’s over with,” he said. “What’s for dinner?”
“I don’t know,” Melania sighed, getting up from the couch. “I’ll find something.” She walked into the kitchen without any other words.
“Do you even feel bad for what you did?” Ivanka asked.
“No,” Donald said. “I don’t see why I should.”
Ivanka sighed. “I know you’re set in your ways,” she said, “but -”
The door opened, and Jared came inside. “We need to talk,” he said, a look of worry on his face.
“Are you OK?” Ivanka asked. “Did something happen with you and Mike after we left?”
“We… we talked,” Jared said. “He thinks I should go to a gay conversion camp for a month.”
Ivanka sighed. “Come on, Jared,” she said. “Let’s go home and talk about this.”
Jared left with Ivanka, leaving Donald alone in his living room. “I’m glad that’s all over with too,” he said, turning on the TV and tuning into Fox News. Melania watched from the kitchen door, a passive yet sad look on her face.
“It’s such a shame the way he treats her,” Hillary said, entering her home with her husband, Bill. “I can’t believe she puts up with him. We’ve had our problems in the past, but still…”
“But what she said,” Bill added. “That’s unbelievable, right?”
Hillary was about to reply when her phone rang. She pulled it out of her purse and looked at the screen. “I have to take this,” she said. “It’s important.”
Bill nodded and left Hillary to her phone call. She accepted the call and put her phone to her ear. “You got Hill-dawg,” she said. She listened to the voice on the other end. “I’m glad you got my text. I talked to his wife today.”
Hillary listened again.
“No,” she said. “I want you to focus on her. See what you can dig up in her past, particularly whether or not she was a mail order bride. It’s something we can use to finally destroy Donald Trump and take back the Neighborhood Association. If we can remove her from his grasp, he’ll go so far over the edge that he’ll end his own damn presidency.”