The President's New Clothes

Small wheener Trump statue

The United States of America had a President so exceedingly fond of new clothes that he spent a lot of money (of which he had much, gained honestly by cheating poor orphans and widows and innocent dumbbells) on being well dressed. He cared nothing about the Constitution or the Truth. He was more interested in, according to him, “grabbing women's pussies”. He was known to be one of the world's greatest TV watchers, especially when he himself was the subject, which he mostly was.

In the great city where he once lived, life was always gay [sic]. Every day many strangers came to town, and among them one day came two Ukrainian-Americans. They let it be known that they were weavers of conspiracy theories as well as clothes, and they said they could weave the most magnificent lies imaginable. Not only were their colors and patterns uncommonly fine, but clothes made of this cloth, with the pockets full of conspiracy theories, had a wonderful way of becoming invisible to anyone who was unfit for his or her office, or who was unusually stupid and unhinged, or was not sufficiently loyal to the President. (The latter quality did not apply to the President, for he was always loyal to himself, if not to anyone else.)

"Those would be just the clothes for me," thought the President. "If I wear them I will be able to discover which swine in my administration are not blindly loyal to me." He paid the two Ukranian-American swindlers a large sum of money to start work at once.

They set up two looms and pretended to weave, though there was nothing on the looms. All the finest silk and the purest old thread which they demanded went into their traveling bags, while they worked the empty looms far into the night.

The President was getting impatient and wanted to know how the weavers were getting on."I'll send honest old Rudy, America's mayor, to the weavers," the President decided. "He'll be the best one to tell me how the material looks, for he's a sensible man and no one has been trickier since Tricky Dick."

So the honest old mayor went to the room where the two swindlers sat working away at their empty looms. Of course he saw nothing for there was nothing to see, but he did not dare say so for fear the President would think him a fool or, worse, disloyal.

"Don't hesitate to tell us what you think of it," said one of the Ukranian-American weavers.

"Oh, it's beautiful, it's enchanting," Rudy said. I'll tell the President.

Finally the President put on the beautiful new clothes. His Slovakian wife helped dress him. That is, she went through the motions, well aware that her husband was stark naked. She knew he would not believe her if she told him. Actually she was not unhappy that he was about to make a complete fool of himself. He asked her how he looked.

"Magnificent," said answered. "Even your pot belly is invisible.”

"What's this?" thought the President. "I don't see any clothes. This is terrible! Am I a fool? Am I unfit to be the President? Am I disloyal to myself? What a thing to happen to me of all people!” But all he said was: “What pot belly?”

He called his secret service detail – aka body guards – and told them he was going for a walk. None dared admit that he saw the President naked, for that would mean that he was a fool and unfit to be a body guard.

They drove to Union Square, where the President told the guards to stay far behind him, for he didn't want potential voters to think he was afraid. He got out of the car and walked to the middle of the Square, preening like the cock he was. Both the New Yorkers and the tourists were astonished, but not fooled. This wasn't middle America, but the center of the world.

“Look,” said a young lady, “the fool is stark naked.” “And look at the size of his dick,” another said, pointing and laughing. The President shivered and suspected they were right. “But the show must go on!” he cried and ordered the secret service guys to take him to the airport where he would board Air Force One and fly to Florida, where the old folks would believe anything, even him.