I thought it would be just another ordinary day, as I ruminated about the amazingosity of our Great Leader Trump.
But boy was I wrong! It would turn out to be far from an ordinary day. When walking home from work, a strange man, all dressed in purple, rode up to me on a Honda moped and demanded that I party like it's 1999.
Wow! He's riding a Honda, and he sure is short. And then I noticed more purple men, all wearing unbuttoned blouses, exposing their chests, and sporting an effeminate moustache. One is playing the guitar, and they're all gyrating in a way that makes me a little uncomfortable.
It didn't take me long to realize that I had stumbled on a clonedroid invasion deployed by the Sino Pacific Empire to perpetrate moral decay on our simple, protelatarian way of life. These sorts of things happened all the time under the New Trump Order.
I for one had no problem when President Trump left NATO. It did result in the invasion of most of Europe. Not our business, anyway. I was OK when Trump made that agreement with Putin that led to the annexation of the United States and Canada with the Greater Federated Russian Confedaration Formerly Known as the Soviet Union (or the GFRCFKSU for short).
That's exactly why I voted for him. I knew that he would make America great again. I didn’t know it would be by making America not be America any more, but on the other hand, there is a complete no-nonsense attitude towards getting things done these days. And the new Canadian Gulag certainly took care of all the riff raff and undesirables that had been costing me my job. And when the CCCC (the Capitalist Crypto Communist Chinese, of course) invaded. That was OK. They only took over the half of the US that I didn't like anyway. The part with Hollywood.
OK, that long, deep kiss between Trump and Putin was a little weird, but I'm pretty sure it was just some Russian thing, like the French cheek kissing thing. The French, now don't get me started on them. Thank God Trump and Putin outlawed the French.
I don't know much about clonedroids or anything. Something about vacuum tubes. And something else about sending time travellers back to steal people's brains off of autopsy tables and saving them in an icebox. What do I know? I'm a salt inspector, not a robot scientist.
I do know I don't trust them. A bunch of robots, built by scientists with foreign sounding Swedish names, out to take my job, just like the Mexicans.
That's why I completely support building a wall between the GFRCFKSU half and CCCC half of the country formerly known as America. The Mad Max zone between the Rockies and the Mississipi hasn't been enough of a buffer zone.
Case in point: the lewd gang of little purple men who continued to demand that I party like it was 1999--they were quite adamant on that point--compromising my capacity as a productive citizen by infecting me with the heretic dogma of the capitalist industrial music complex.
Then all at once they said, "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to get through this thing"
“What thing is that?" I asked.
"Gender bending if I was your girlfriend." one of them said while strumming an electric guitar.
I was thinking, "What the hell does that mean."
"I am the sexiest vegetarian in the world, and right now, I'd love some spaghetti and orange juice."
Still not understanding.
"We are multitudes."
Not comprehending, as a flock of doves flew in the air from I don't know where.
A really sad looking purple man moaned and said "I wish Sheila E was here to party like it was 1999."
Really sad guy continued, "You know, I am well aware that I am only a facsimile of the original Prince"
Disturbingly self-aware and sad guy gave me a come hither look that violated all my values on the way people should be looking at me and started singing about oral sex. At last I think he was singing about oral sex, I was having a hard time following, but got the gist of things. I think.
My mind raced. I realized that I had a handful of malformed grains of salt that I had rejected at work and then pocketed, so that I would have food to eat that night. I threw the salt in the face of the purple oral sex guy and ran.
I made it about 10 meters, when I twisted my ankle and fell. All seemed lost when the cavalry arrived to save me at the last moment. Literally, a cavalry. Clonedroids of the 15th US president, James Buchanan, riding horse back.
A Buchanan swept me up in his strong, capable arms and kissed me on the forehead to let me know everything would be just as OK as it had ever been. Sort of a long kiss.