It was a harsh night in Abbottabad, Pakistan, some time way, way, way much earlier than 2011. There was rain. And, not just any rain. The kind of rain that could make one’s hair wet.
America’s greatest American, who respected the military more than anyone else, despite their POWs, Gold Star families, and war memorials stupidly left outside to face the elements, was leading the Mission Covfefe to capture America’s greatest enemy. No, not Hillary Clinton or Barack Obama, or even Meryl Streep.
This great American chose to make the sacrifice of not making more money, by taking time out to capture this heinous villain, and personally lead this mission, which he had planned with his best brain that had the best…what do you call those things again? Oh, yes. “Words.” This mission could be a greater danger than gonorrhea, while also getting the best prime-time ratings.
The location of the terrorist mastermind was pointed out in the patriotic leader’s book, “The Art of the Deal,” which many, many people have said was the second greatest book of military strategy in the history of books, after the Bible. But, the generals, who knew way less than our heroic leader, and Presidents Bush and Obama had refused to listen. Bush, because he was low energy and made bad decisions, and Obama because he was probably born in Kenya or some other shit-hole country. If the nation waited on them, then the terrorist would probably escape capture until 2011.
The terrorist was hiding in a mansion or something like that. Our esteemed leader had seen much better. But, what sort of danger waits for our leader with larger hands than the normal man? Bombs? Guns? Stairs? It didn’t matter. Bone spurs be damned. Our leader was armed with a personal gift from the Emperor of Finland, which was a nation of forests in the Balkans and full of white people. He had a rake.
And, not just any rake. Why, this was the very same rake our leader had used to clean the floors of California’s forests, which was successful in preventing wildfires for the rest of eternity. Despite this, the state remained ungrateful to Dear Leader and continued to send black women with low IQs to Congress.
But, as we all know from history, the rake wasn’t needed. After seeing that the great orange one himself was leading the mission, George Soros keeled over in death, blood coming out of his wherever. Fear had killed the terrorist.
The news of the conquest forced ISIS to surrender before it was established. Stock markets climbed to unprecedented heights never seen before. Black unemployment hit new lows. Suburban moms would only vote for Democrats in the future if the mission’s leader was not on the ballot.
Finally, America was great again.
You’re welcome, America.
Watch me draw.