The Queen, 45 and The Dream

Trumplomacy at its best - The Donald breaks protocol as he walks in front of Queen Elizabeth II during his recent visit to Britain.
By Dan Schmitt | July 17, 2018 |

Editor's note: This piece was submitted last weekend, prior to the Putin-Trump summit. Given yesterday's debacle in Helsinki for America, we cannot help but wonder what Dan's next dream might include! 

I had the most incredibly bizarre dream the other night.  I’m sure it had something to do with the late night news I watched before going to bed.  The lead story was about the protests in England against President Trump.  According to the news, tens of thousands of Englishmen and Englishwomen took to the streets in opposition to Trump and his visit to their country.  Apparently, Trump’s popularity in England is in the loo!

I rarely remember my dreams, but this one was different.  When I awoke around 5:30 AM, the details of the dream were as vivid and clear to me as the rising sun, and I swear on the Magna Charta, the English Bill of Rights, and the U.S. Constitution that what I lay forth here in this writing is exactly what occurred in my dream.  I share my dream only as a plea for help in understanding the hidden meaning of it all.   

My dream began in the Cabinet Room of the White House.  President Trump, just back from his visit to England, had hastily called for a meeting of all Secretaries.

The full Cabinet assembled, Trump promptly went on a rant.  Eyes bulging and face reddened, he screamed,  “Those god damn ungrateful English dogs will pay for their terrible treatment of me.  And that stoned faced Queen, what a joke she is.  During our tea time, and I hate tea anyway, who the hell drinks tea except the boring English, she never once smiled at me and Melanie.  They’re all a bunch of losers.  They disrespected me and they disrespected the United States of America, but mostly they disrespected me.  They don’t appreciate how many times America saved their sorry asses.  They don’t remember how our country rescued them in the 1860s during World War I.”

All but one of the Cabinet Secretaries sat emotionlessly staring at the President.  Secretary of Education, Betsy DeVos, smiling with lips redder than a Sacramento Valley overripe tomato, finally broke the silence by meekly uttering, “Ah, Mr. President, I think World War I was fought during the 1940s!”

“Whatever!” President Trump yells back.  “And what about when we bailed them out in World War II?  We sacrificed a lot during the 60s and 70s to rescue them again from the Germans and total disaster.”

Again, silence imbued the room until DeVos spoke up and said, “Ah, Mr. President, we are all role models for American students, so we must get our facts correct.  World War II was fought around 1917.”

President Trump cut her off and yelled, “I don’t give a damn when it was fought.  I’m tired of the English not appreciating what our country has done for them and how great I am.  I’m a genius and they don’t see it.  My IQ is higher than Theresa May and the Queen’s combined.  They have to pay for this despicable display of disloyalty.”

At that point, all heads in the room, save for DeVos and Trump’s, were bowed as if in prayer.  After what seemed like an eternity, Secretary of Defense, James Mattis, raised his head and asked, “Well, what do you think should be done?”

The President responded, “Well, I want everyone back in this room very early tomorrow morning, and I’ll tell you then what we’re going to do.  Be here by 11 AM, and no one better be late.”

That night at a White House dinner consisting of three buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken, mashed potatoes, and biscuits, the President shared his anger over the English disloyalty with his family and prattled on about making England suffer in some way.

Eric was the first to chime in with, “Hey, Dad, why not nuke the hell out of the country?”

Ivanka shook her finger at Eric and said, “No, no, no.  We cannot do that.  Are you crazy?”  Then she turned to the President and pleaded, “Daddy, Daddy, please don’t listen to Eric.  Please, you can’t do that.  I have my Ivanka Trump clothing in hundreds of stores throughout England.  They’ll be ruined and I’ll lose money.  Please, Daddy, if you love me don’t do it!  Remember, Daddy, I’m your favorite child.  You even said once publicly that if I were not your daughter, you’d date me.  You can’t nuke England.”

“Well, I supposed we can’t nuke England, FOR NOW.  But, it’s always an option. Eric, you’re not exactly a chip off the old block, but you’ve given me some HUGE inspiration. Thanks, son.  I’ll explain it to you later.”

Very early the next morning, at precisely 11 AM, all the Secretaries were seated at the table in the Cabinet Room waiting in anticipation for whatever was to come.  The door opened and President Trump sauntered in, took his seat, and calmly began speaking, “Last evening before I went to bed at 7 PM, I thought long and hard about the consequences England must face for it’s disloyalty to our country and especially to me.  I have decided on a military invasion of the island.”

All eyes bulged at those words, save for those of Secretary Of Housing and Urban Development, Ben Carson, who had dozed off even before Trump entered the room.  Secretary of State Mike Pompeo was first to speak and stammered, “Mrrrr. Pressssidentttt, I donnn’t thiiinnnk yoooou caaaan dooo thhhhhat!”

“I sure as hell can, Mike.  I’m the Commander in Chief, and I’m instructing Secretary of Defense Mattis to ready all six military branches for an invasion within a month.”

“Ah, Mr. President,” Secretary Mattis broke in,  “We only have five military branches: Army, Navy, Air Force, Marines, and Coast Guard.”

The President glared at Secretary Mattis and retorted, “James, James, you’re forgetting our Space Force.”

“Mr. President, we have no Space Force.  You only mentioned the idea less than a month ago.”

"Sir,” chimed in a now more composed Pompeo, “You can’t invade another nation for being disrespectful and disloyal to you and our country.  You just can’t!  Furthermore, you can’t just invade a country before first trying diplomacy.”

“OK, Mike, I want you to immediately fly to England and meet with the Prime Minister. Tell her that I will not tolerate the snub her people gave me.  Tell her that the United States military, the most powerful military on earth, will invade her country unless she meets my three demands: first, the English government must hang a banner from the Tower Bridge, the Parliament Building, and Westminster Abby saying, ‘The Donald is the most popular United States president in history, and the English people adore him;’ second, I love fish and chips.  I hate to say this, but the English have the BEST FISH AND CHIPS EVER!  I want the English government to supply me with, free of charge, on their dime, at no cost to the American taxpayer, fish and chips daily for the rest of my life; third, I want to be knighted.  I deserve to be knighted.  That slut, Angelina Jolie was knighted.  Have you seen her face?  She’s a ‘has been.’ She’s always been a ‘has been.’ My personal lawyer Rudy Giuliani is a knight.  He works for me.  I deserve to be knighted.”

So, Mike Pompeo flew to London and met with Theresa May. As meetings go, when war is a real possibility, this one went pretty well.  The Secretary of State presented the ultimatum to the English Prime Minister, and she responded, “Don’t you know that England has not successively been invaded since 1066 when William the Conqueror conquered our island.  Even Nazi Germany couldn’t conquer us.  I do understand, however, that the United States has the most powerful military in history. OK, well, the banner is beyond my control.  It’s a non-starter.  All three sites are in London, and the mayor of London, Sadiz Khan, is a Muslim.  Enough said.  As for the fish and chips, we’ll gladly supply the President with one of our traditional English meals every day for the rest of his life, and we’ll supersize the chips.  And, the knighthood request, let me talk to the Queen.”

Queen Elizabeth agreed and set a date for The Donald’s knighting ceremony six months hence.  Every day, President Trump disparaged the English while dining on his daily meal of fish and supersized chips.  And, every day, the President grew a bit larger.

Finally, the day arrived for President Trump to fly to England and to be admitted into the exclusive “Order of the Knights.” The ceremony was held at Windsor Castle with all the pomp and circumstance duly given to such an occasion, including Squire Trump riding into the castle on a white steed, dismounting in front of the castle chapel, reverently striding to the altar, and getting his dubbing from the Queen.  
Although the knighting of President Trump had been advertised, according to his demand, across the British Isles for six months, only five people were in attendance at the time of the ceremony: two elderly and somewhat portly white men sporting ‘Make America Great Again’ hats and three beggars.

Eating fish and supersized chips every day for six months can only have an adverse effect on the body, and President Trump’s body was no exception.  His 239-pounds grew to nearly 300 by the time he mounted the steed with substantial assistance from six pages.  The white horse was rather unusual in that it had large orange blotches all throughout its hide, and, when the sun hit rider and horse at just the right angle, the pair could have easily been mistaken for one huge orange statue.  Right from the get-go, it was obvious that the horse was no match for its rider. With the Squire on its back, the horse staggered, lurched, and stumbled its way to the chapel entrance and the waiting Queen. Just a few feet from the door, the horse pitched to the left and then keeled over, squashing its rider underneath. The American President was dead!

The two men wearing the hats sobbed in disbelief. Two of the beggars attempted to console the distraught men. The third beggar, the one standing over the horse and dead rider noticed a nearby hawker selling sodas and water and muttered to himself, “Criminy, I wish I had twenty pence for an Orange Crush.”      

 A page screamed to the Queen, “Come quickly, your Highness, come quickly.” 

Queen Elizabeth shuffled to the chapel entrance and saw what had occurred.  She bent over the body of the dead American President and, with an impassive face, whispered, “Serves you right.  We have repaid our debt to the American people.”

Then, I woke up. Because memory fades quickly, I chose to write down the details of this dream immediately, and the account I have given is what I remember. Dreams are said to have hidden meanings, so I ask you, dear readers, to help me interpret this very unusual dream.   


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