Donald Trump glanced at his watch as he passed through the cordoned-off press corps gathered to hurl questions at him as he hurried to Marine One.
“Mr. President! Are you serious about your threat to withhold health care subsidies as a bargaining chip with Democrats?”
“Didn’t you read my book? There’s a whole chapter about bargaining chips in Art of the Deal,” he called over his left shoulder as he picked up the pace. “It’s great. It’s incredibly, incredibly, um, great!”
“Mr. President! Aren’t you afraid you might lose again if you go back to healthcare negotiations so soon?”
Trump immediately stopped and turned away from the waiting helicopter on the lawn to glower at the reporter. “Lose? Lose?! I never lose! Losing is for losers and I am a winner! If I weren’t so amazing, people would get bored with all my winning. It was the Democrats’ fault Ryan had to pull the bill. And the more I’ve thought about it, Ryan’s a loser. So’s the Freedom Caucus. And so’s the Republican Party. I’m getting the picture, now, see? I’m going to have to take care of that mess on my own. I’ll have the Democrats doing whatever I want on health care. You really gotta read my book.”
The President held up both arms to stop the shouted questions. “That’s it. I have to get down to Mar a Lago if I’m going to make my tee time.” He took a couple steps, caught himself, and turned back. “Yeah, I’m meeting a world leader, a really really important big name leader, and we’re gonna to meet over tea and take care of some really important business. It’s gonna be great. Gotta go!”
When Donald Trump collapsed on his bed that night, his mind was spinning. He wasn’t thinking anything, his mind was just spinning. Suddenly, he sat bolt upright as a loud banging noise grew closer outside his door. Before he could get up to look, he realized he was not alone. A shimmering apparition hovered in the middle of the room. Trump nearly screamed when he recognized Barack Obama.
“Hello Donald,” the former President said with a transparent trademark smile.
“I heard you coming down the hall. How did you get in here, Obama?”
“Nah,” Obama chuckled. “That was just housekeeping dragging a ladder. Who were you expecting, Marley’s ghost?”
“Huh?” Trump looked puzzled.
“Never mind, Donald. I forgot. It was in a book. No, I’m no ghost. Don’t you think the FBI would have told you if I had died?” Obama saw Trump’s expression. “Hmm, you’re right. Maybe not. Anyway man, when you retire from the presidency, they give you some crazy cool gifts. The CIA gave me a prototype of this transporter they’ve been working on. Don’t need no Scotty, man, I can beam myself wherever! It will be really terrific when they get it perfected and I can get there as my regular self, instead of this weird hologram.
“Now, listen Donald,” the ex-President said, getting down to business. “I’m here to give you a heads up. I’m not the only visitor you’re getting tonight.”
Trump looked worried. “Wait a second, are going to tell me that three spirits are going to visit me tonight?”
“So you did read it,” Obama said with surprise.
“Pfff,” Trump scoffed. “I saw it on TV.”
Obama shook his head. “Yeah, well, you’ve got the idea. But, whattaya expect? You’re not only messin’ with the lives of millions of people, you’re gonna screw up my legacy. Now, before sunrise, three friends of mine are gonna show up and give you a little TLIC.”
“You mean TLC,” Trump said distractedly.
“No. TLIC,” Obama said and he started to laugh. “Time for a Little Intensive Care!” 44’s famous cackle echoed in the room for several seconds after his hologram dissolved.
The Spirit of Health Care Past
It was no hologram that materialized an hour or so later. Trump could immediately sense a supernatural presence, in that the wind blew through the closed window and a white-coated figure completed several aerial laps before screeching to a stop, suspended about three feet in front of and above the seated President, who sent off his Tweet before looking up.
“Hey, Marcus Welby M.D.?! I loved your show!” Continue reading “A Health Care-ol, With Apologies to Charles Dickens”