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The Chronicles of the Trump, Chapter 11

1. Hearken all ye Deplorables and behold the Majesty of the Trump! Yea, he had a loose tongue and his servants doth grind the wheels of Justice. Behold he now smiteth his enemies and they lasheth out and grind their teeth to dust.

2. For behold, were we not wandering in the wilderness recently? Were we not stumbling amongst one another and biting the backs of our brother or sister? Didst not doubt creepeth in and worketh its Darkness Among Us?

3. Verily, verily I say unto you: Yea, the darkness didst spring forth in Sparta and it divideth the people asunder. Yea, one group loveth the Doom, and another slurpeth from the Chalice of Hope, and the two sides argueth.

4. The swamp reareth its head and casteth doubt on Justice. The Keebler Elf sleepeth within the tree while the Mule runneth amok with impunity. The Courts ruleth against MAGA, and fighteth The Deplorables.

5. And the stench riseth from the ass of the Ads and was about to overcome the truth-bearers. The Doomers did cast their lots with Trump being turned to the swamp, and he doeth their bidding. Yea, they feared that Trump was a donkey, and turneth against those who elected him.

6. For Trump saith things, but doeth nothing. Their eyes did see, but did not believe. Their ears heareth, yet listeneth not. Strategery was not believed, and faith leaveth their souls. A purveyor of sex doeth damage to Trump, and he fighteth not back.

7. And Trump bombeth the shit out of a building of chemicals, and Russia standeth down. And Lo! Looketh here ye despondent Deplorables! Kimmy the Fat cometh to the table and talketh peace and de-nuking. Yea, Pompeo the Stealthy travelleth to the Kingdom of starving skinny people to meet Fatty face-to-face.

8. Behold! I showeth unto you that Trump still fighteth. I showeth that Trump still hath game, and shoveth it down the throats of the Lib. The Blue Wave is Smurf-piss, and the Mule crosseth a line.

9. For the Mule raideth a lawyer of Trump and Sessions doeth nothing. Cries of outrage poureth out, and allegations of weakness are made against Trump. But Trump knoweth a more excellent way.

19. For Trump pardons a Scooter, and the left crieth out. He jabbeth at Dubya, and the cuck gnasheth his teeth. But hold! More cometh.

11. And Trump meeteth with Rosenstein and he announceth Trump is not a target. Frothing of mouth descendeth on the media, for the raid netteth nothing on Trump, but Trump’s anger is kindled. And he tweeteth a royal tweet of the cuckery going on, and it angereth many to hate the Mule.

12. And McCabe the Rat Bastard hath been sacked, for the IG reporteth he lied, and he threateneth Comey the Weasel with retribution.

13. And Comey the Weasel publisheth his time, and the mockery commenceth. For his book is filled with sissyness, the words of a weasel ring hollow, and he contradicteth himself in sworn testimony already given.

14. Yet he shutteth not up, and the people in the land sayeth; ” This was the leader of the FBI? This was the top man? This is the best of the best?” He is a fool, whose best part ran down his mommas leg, and he beclowneth himself.

15. Behold, Trump is on the warpath. The tweet stingeth his enemies. His gaze smiteth the Left. They lash out, but they are as feeble as ¡Jeb! BUT WAIT! MOAR COMETH!

16. Giuliani the Magnificent joineth the fight, to curbstomp the Mule. Trump groweth stronger in the polls while his enemies lose the grasp of their Precious.

17. Behold, DAMMIT!  He fighteth in his own due time. His time is not our time, nor his ways are our ways. Yet he battleth the swamp for all to see. We spared him not as he fighteth his own way.

18. Grow not weary, Deplorables. If ye seek misery, ye shall find it.

19. Tis always darkest before the Don.

 

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