THAT DAY WITH TRUMP AND THE BLEACH | FICTION

April 26th 2020

People have no freakin’ clue what it’s like to lead the Order. I have no idea what the Lord was thinking, when he thought up the end of time and just said, “Hmmmm… I need someone who can handle it all…” and stuck me in there.

Yeah. Me with a traumatic brain injury, a shattered spine held together by magic (just so all the doctors are really confused when they take a look at my MRI’s), though He would say it was a miracle. I am still getting the hang of the difference between feats done by a prophet on our side versus their side.

Anyhow.

Yesterday our nation’s president announced during a major press briefing that maybe, perhaps, you know – “we should look into disinfectant, heat and/or light treatments”— for our internal systems.

You know. Like inside your hands.

Thanks Obama.

***

“See! Isn’t it genius!” I told everyone, as I played the clip. “But this lady is so not on your team. If she doesn’t know you by now, Obama – seriously – how many more things like this is she going to f-ck up for you?” On the screen was a 45 second clip of Dr. Blix, making a face like she was sucking on a lemon, as Obama sat up on the podium at the White House Press Briefing room, and casually talked to one of the medical guys next to him about possible research projects they could do in the future.

It was all nonsense, the bleach in the veins, but the press was buying it, hook, line and sinker. I couldn’t believe Dr. Blix was, after all this bloody time.

Didn’t she know Obama’s techniques by now? Didn’t she know, as one influencer put it, “Trump-speak”?

(Ah. If you are new to the story… Obama is Trump and Trump is Obama. The pundits actually kinda got it right in the beginning, as much as I hate to say it. Donald J. Trump didn’t actually plan on being president. He never thought they’d ever let him get that far. When he won New Hampshire, you could see it in his face. He was done. He was happy. He would have made his father proud.

And then he woke up the next morning… and there was a little problem. Winning New Hampshire means you win the United States. Uh oh. So I gave him a call:

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“So you’re freaking out about running.”

“Yeah. I’m gonna quit.”

“No- wait. Now hold on.”

He actually waited. Smart man. I knew I liked him. Not everyone I call actually does that.

“What if I can work you a deal.”

“A deal? But I don’t want to be -”

“No- I don’t need you to be either. Hold on.”

And that’s when I called Obama, who I’d already converted, right around February of 2014, for those of you who wondered what the #%#$ happened to your golden goose. (God took him. Sorry.) (Ok. No. Not really. You had him long enough and did a heck of a lot of damage. I’m still trying to undo it all… Well, he is, anyway… And it turns out it’s a lot easier to DO things than undo them. But I think you already knew that, right? Right. So – yeah.

Not sorry.)

Alright. Back to my call with Trump. I switch off, and talked to Obama, the Lord and everyone else necessary. Then I hopped back on.

“Hey! I’m here. Yup. If you keep going, I can promise you, you won’t have to do the job.”

“Come again?”

“You do your thing: look amazing to America, do your best to win the election, and if you win, I promise, you won’t be responsible for the job.”

“How’s that?”

“We’ll make a Trump suit. Someone else will wear it…” (I was not about to tell him it would be Obama. Are you kidding!?) Anyway – he went for it, though Hilary’s tape certainly spooked him, but by then I was pretty much sure he’d win. I asked him to just hang in there.

He did. He won. He did the inauguration speech, held Melania’s hand, and said goodbye to the crowd for the last time.

That week, Obama enacted a million executive orders in rapid succession – more than any President in their first week in office. Every single day, some new politician walked out of the Oval Office with a stunned look on their face, and would warn the next guy going in, “Hey – watch it. He KNOWS how things work!” and then they’d just stand there staring.

In the meantime, the Border Wall was suddenly funded. Ann Coulter didn’t hear about it for three years. The media locked him down that hard. Unless you follow the Federal Register’s website for Executive Orders, you don’t know anything about anything “Trump” today.

Except maybe for the disinfectant comment.

Turns out it wasn’t so brilliant.

Claire: “Our people are putting disinfectant in their veins…”

Me: “WHAT!?”

Them: “But Trump said to!!!”

Claire: “I’m refusing them the tube.”

Me: “Lord! Can I?”

Link: “Yep.”

Me: Snap of the fingers.

Them: “Ohhh! We feel better!!! What happened?”

Me: “Watch.” And I clicked over to today’s video, where Obama, in a Trump suit by Claire Danes (that just so happens to sweat too much while being held under the sun in the Rose Garden), was telling the press that he wasn’t serious about his disinfectant comment.

Trump/Obama: “Obviously I wasn’t serious. I was just answering a sarcastic question from a reporter and wanted to see how you people would handle it…”

Me: “SEE.”

Everyone: “KEEP GOING!”

Fine.

Trump/Obama: “I mean, our hands could be hard surfaces. I don’t know. It could depend on the person, but it would be good to do some testing. I mean, disinfectant! It kills everything!”

Claire: “STOP.”

Us: As I stop the tape, we all swivel and look at Claire in unison. I’m cheerful and laughing. Man, I’m thinking, We really got them! I mean, look at how many people know about the sunlight study!

I even went so far as to pull up the data slides I’d posted on Twitter, regarding the sunlight research the CDC and NIH had shared that day. Trump’s had a looooooot a lotta research shared in these briefings, and I haven’t posted ANY of the slides on my feed, just the videos.

Yesterday was different. I posted possibly the most important slide of the entire coronavirus catastrophe up on my feed… because Trump (Obama) pulled a fast one on the media – again! Yay!

“Look,” I’d told everyone, “If he doesn’t, pull this kind of stuff, nobody knows about it! Nobody hears about it! He always drops it right on top of the most important moment of all, so that the reporters go crazy and share that moment, right then and there…. and all his fans go nuts trying to refute it, and find the actual story. It’s genius. Every time.

The – Lord – is – so – amazing!”

Because, you know, the Lord is – ahem! – supposed to be controlling everything Obama is saying! “Supposed to be” is the operative phrase in this story, as you will soon find out.

Sigh.

July 8th 2021

Obama thought the bleach thing was real. He had no idea that he was talking nonsense. When I learned that, I stopped talking. There was a lot of silence in the room. “Hello?” said Obama.

“Just a minute.”

I hate when Claire is right.

*

In late October 2020, I learned that Obama had also been listening to stupid little angel that appeared in white lights above his shoulder. Obama actually listening to the @#$%#@ thing. I was furious when I found out.

I dropped the line I was on with him, took a deep, deep, DEEP breathe, and turned to my link. (Back then, it was my husband. It has since been removed, thank the Father!) I turned.

“Lord.”

Pause.

“Lord— tell me—”

Pause.

During these pauses, I could feel the room pulsating around me, in waves. I was trying to control my rage, my pain, my confusion, my world – falling apart. My brain was turning over all the times Obama didn’t listen to what I told him – to what a prophet told him!!! And it would make me so angry! But then —

Then I was also remember that I’d ask the Father about it, and he would tell me to simply wait.

So I did.

If the Father wanted me to know about this, he would’ve revealed it to me. This is his timing this is his perfect timing… Remember that!

Because I knew we would lose the election then. I knew it. And I knew the Father had allowed it to happen. So I simply asked the only question I had, after the churnings in my brain:

“What percentage of decisions were made by that angel?”

“25%”

“Was that 25% all the important policy decisions? Or is that just in general?

“Just in general.”

Which meant 75% of the important policy decisions pleased the Father. And I could live with that.

My shoulders dropped. My head drooped. The Trump presidency is not what I thought it was – but it was certainly holy. No president in the history of this nation has handed 75% of their decision making to the almighty.

Well. Maybe Thomas Jefferson.

I could live with that.