Let’s Fast Forward 15 Years And Be Deplorable Karma

I’m the Log Cabin Republicans annual hiking trip. Due to the legal fees our group has amassed because of our leader’s connections to the treasonous Senatrice, we can’t afford the bus to Brokeback Mountain, so we had to settle for Yosemite.

I'm Steve Bannon, dead of an obesity-related heart attack, burning away quite merrily in hell. Let's see, maybe there's no fire over here? Nope, fire. How about over here? Still looks like fire. Shit. Maybe I shouldn't have been a shit-sucking fascist anarchist cunt my entire useless life.

I'm the men's toilet at the Preston Bus Terminal, UK, largest an ugliest bus terminal in Europe. Specifically, cubicle 16. Specifically, the hole cut into the wall of cubicle 16, where a gentleman, for a small fee - no more than the equivalent of half a Euro - may place his member if he is so disposed for a fairly runny blowjob. I am also the sound, once this is done, of Milo crying.

I still buy clothes from Ivanka, just love how my dress matches my lunch wrapper.

I'm Sarah Huckabee Sanders' half-a-functioning lung, currently full of Marlborough 100 smoke as the dirty bitch lights up yet another coffin nail. How long will I be subjected to keeping this wheezing sack of chicken fat as she stumps around Dollar Mart, clutching her food stamp voucher? Check back in five minutes and find out!

I'm Trump's headstone. I have been pissed on more times than, well, any of the toilets at the Preston Bus Station.

I am Dee Plorable, dying of cancer of the cunt with no medical insurance or assistance of any kind. I am tied to my bed, which I have soiled. I scream hellishly into the belt gag fashioned by my fifth illegitimate child. My great-great-grandchildren look at me sorrowfully. There's no more peppermint schnapps, so they are unable to provide me with my only available anesthetic. Shrugging their shoulders, they go back to watch "Pig Fucking for Nickles" on Fox. I am 40 years old.

I'm the burned out remains of Fox News. Every now and again a charred poster for The Ivanka Trump show flutters through my debris.

I'm Alex Jones' tits. I have swollen to the size of airplane luggage and lactate constantly. Sometimes Alex strips naked in front of a mirror and pretends to be a fat woman and fondles me. Then he begins screaming and smashes his face repeatedly into the glass.

I am Melania Trump, living with my son in undisclosed location in Europe. Barron has grown much better now that his father is no longer here. We keep to selves. I have taken up lace-making. I wear veil in town. The locals call me "The Widow" and sometimes they make sign of the evil eye when they see me. It make me sad. But I get over it. No, I no watch bio-pic.

I am the speed of the car that George and Kellyanne Conway were traveling in when a domestic dispute while driving caused them to launch off a cliff.

I'm Mother Pence. I've retried from public life and run a small motel in California. Every day my hubster attends to my needs. We have a very healthy relationship, don't we dear.

Dear?

Fuck, he's down at the motel, talking to some floozy. Now it sounds like she's taking a shower. I'll be right back.

I am Kelly Ann Conway, after being called Crypt Keeper for so long, they rebooted the original series and I have successfully parlayed my fame into show host.

I'm a little bit of Dana Loesch's grandchild's brain matter flecking her screaming face in the immediate aftermath of a tragic gun accident at home.

I'm the armed Deplorable uprising that didn't go exactly as planned. I'm also the choked-off screams of agony as the hail of SWAT Team bullets mowed us down.

G'day, everyone. I'm Lachlan Murdoch. I'm in charge of cleaning out the stables for the Melbourne Cup. Me and my family lost our US TV networks when the US finally realized we were a bunch of Australian convict scum. And Jerry Hall cleaned out our dad during the divorce. Why oh why did we ever rent Batman that night. I wish I would dinki-die.

I’m Stephen Miller, living in a small, rural town in Argentina. I keep my head down and run my small engine repair shop as quietly as possible. After the botched plastic surgeries I don’t look much like myself anymore, but that’s fine really. There are other people with German heritage here but we don’t talk much about our family histories.

I'm Putin's brain in a pickle jar. I plan. I plan.

I'm the ghost of Jordan Peterson. I wander the remains of my compound, weeping over the loss of my cult followers. One of whom shot me, then went on a killing spree after his wife left him. After that they all decided they wanted to eat vegetables and send their daughters to school, and went AWOL... Smouldering copies of "12 Riles For Life" litter the empty halls.

I'm Miss Lindsey. I am alone. Granted, I always was, but now I really am.

I tat doilies.

Occasionally I trade patterns with Melania.

I am Jacob Wohl's asshole. I'm not here right now but if you leave your name at the sound of the tone OH MY GOD NO, I TOLD YOU I'M NOT HERE, DADDY, THEY'RE RAPING ME AGAIN AND NOW A PENIS IS GOING IN MY MMMMFMFMFM

I am Laura Loomer's fat rolls. We weigh 300 pounds! We are her new spare tire. Tee hee! We enjoy our existence, anchoring her in her bed so she can't move. The one bad thing is when she has her dog lick her cunt so she can pretend to have a husband. You know the dog is named Loomer? She's getting Loomered. EWWWW!

I'm Jerry Hall, clutching my divorce settlement.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!

I fucked Mick Jagger and Jack Nicholson. Did any of you think I wasn't dealing with Testicle-Face McKangaroo for anything but the money?

I am Ivanka's snatch. $15 the first hour, $5 each additional hour.

I am Jack Burkman. Today I will be having a press conference in the alley behind the Denny's where I prove that the men with the white coats who keeping chasing me are actually Hillary Clinton's secret clone project. Please bring donuts. Or any kind of food. I already ate my dog.

I'm Miss Lindzey, I got defeated in the 2026 re-election effort. Retired from politics now. With my accumulated millions, I've had much facial surgery, tummy and fanny tucks, breast implants, and bought new wardrobes galore. I've joined the Azalea Belles, and enjoy the blasts of the past.

I am the smoldering remains of the post-Brexit United Kingdom. Occasionally a chinless skinhead can be seen loping through my blighted streets.

I'm all the "hot" female Trump twitter followers, tits hanging down to our knees after the sixth kid popped out. We shuffle behind our shopping carts, dull-eyed and broken-dreamed as Tiffani and Brandi and Tammi and Muffi and Mandi and Jami scream and pull each others hair.

I'm a gun. I am currently inside a male Trump supporter's mouth, as he is out of money, food and hope. In one second he will find out he is also out of bullets. Tee hee.

R1, have you ever seen Log Cabin Republicanettes in real life? They only wished they looked 1/8th as good as that photo.

I'm the generations of future American stuck with cleaning up after the actions of one deranged daughter-molesting, shit-gobbling perma-tanned gargoyle with the brains of a cokehead pillbug and a mouth like a raped asshole.

I am the Saudi Royal Family. Since the world went carbon-neutral, we have no more money for solid gold toilet paper and android slaves. Our cities have reverted to vast sandpits and we are reduced to sucking off our last camel for sustenance. Tonight it is HRH Prince #15,617's turn to bring the beast to full erection.

I am Boris Johnson, the dancing clown. I live in the sewers and eat small children.

I am the prosperous and peaceful nation of Kurdistan. (Formerly known as Turkey).

I am the Mar-a-Lago Homeless Shelter and AIDS hospice. I provide health care to the indigent population of Palm Beach, which has risen dramatically since the economy tanked. I am a well-run facility located in beautiful gardens, but occasionally patients and staff are disturbed by the hollow, ghostly screams of "lock her uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup...."

I'm Anthony Scaramucci. I've been reduced to sex work, as a paid escort for former Deplorable wives (and an occasional horny husband).

Unfortunately, I never make much money. I just can't seem to last very long.