Trump loves Russia, but did you know that he has deep, undeniable feelings for China too? This is the thrilling, unrelated sequel to 50 Shades of Authoritarianism.
The warm sensation taking over America’s body could have been caused by the wine, the lavender wafting through the air, or the fact that China had just stepped back into the living room wearing only a silk robe.
Job searching has been miserable, but I figure that if I keep throwing darts at the board, one’s gonna hit eventually.
I’m thinking of rewriting Mutually Assured Delusion and turning it into a real novel… but if in the near future the US does go to war with North Korea, thus resulting in widespread death and destruction, wouldn’t I look like an ass, having written about it hypothetically in an overexaggerated comedy? Could I even live with myself?
They sat close together on the couch and watched the crackling fire with half-lidded eyes. The wine in their glasses almost matched the color of her lips and America couldn’t quite figure out which of the two was more intoxicating.
Explosions shook the air. Vietnam heard the whirring of helicopter blades and feet pounding against asphalt as people scrambled for an escape–echoes from a distant reality. But what wasn’t muted, what was so real that it pumped fire through her veins, was the sight of her flag wavering in the dusty wind amidst the wreckage of Saigon.
With a loud crack, wood splintered from the bar counter and went flying into the air that was thick with the smell of cigars and gunpowder–but, unfortunately, not into the dirt-stained face of that weasely American bastard.
Turns out, the Abominable American wasn’t that hard to outrun. He was pretty slow due to his size, and also kind of lazy. He gave up chase five minutes in, after which he retreated to his lair to partake in material sin and filthiness.