The little boy who wanted all the suckers

by David Benjamin 

“If you’re playing a poker game and you look around the table and can’t tell who the sucker is, it’s you.”

—Paul Newman

 

FORT PIERCE, Fla. (November, 2023)—When the trial of ex-president Donald Trump took a strange twist here last month, eventually triggering a lengthy delay in the proceedings, one commentator cited a rather grisly movie scene 

Speaking anonymously out of fear that he might be doxxed by Jim Jordan, the court-watcher recalled a scene from the film, The Fifth Element, in which Korben Dallas (played by Bruce Willis) removes four magical stones from the body of an alien diva (played by Maïwenn), as she’s dying. “I thought about the movie,” said the commentator, “when that proctologist testified about finding Top Secret documents hidden inside Trump.”

As has been previously reported, this bizarre series of events started when the Former Guy required medical intervention after suffering severe internal discomfort while throwing a tantrum over a missed putt on the eighth hole of his golf club in Bedminster, New Jersey. After he had been rushed to the hospital and diagnosed with a lower intestinal blockage, his further treatment was suspended by order of special counsel Jack Smith, on national security grounds. 

The mystery of Trump’s troubled tummy languished in legal limbo until the testimony of Dr. Rex Proberman, a specialist in extreme lower bowel disorders at New York’s Bellevue Hospital. He told the court that Trump had been severely constipated since late January 2021 apparently because, somehow, a number of  documents had been lodged in his body.

After Dr. Proberman—despite strong objections from the recalcitrant patient—had removed one of these obstructions, it was determined that the document had “Top Secret” markings which prohibited the hospital staff, none of whom had the appropriate security clearance, from further relieving the ex-president of his intestinal distress.

According to Dr. Proberman, Trump’s only reaction, as a nurse held the document in two fingers while wrinkling her nose, was to say, “Gimme that back. It’s mine. They’re all mine. Everywhere I put ’em! Mine!”

The doctor added, in his testimony, that Trump, who remained almost 90-percent “blocked” by typewritten stationery in manila folders with staples and paperclips, was temporarily treated with certain palliative measures that Dr. Proberman declined to describe because “Ew, they’re too icky to talk about.”

Asked to comment on this remarkable act of concealment, Oswald Beery, a former warden in the New York correctional system, noted that “cavity searches” are done frequently in prisons. He explained that Trump’s “hiding place” is a favorite receptacle for the smuggling of contraband like drugs, money, even weapons. 

“But this is special. It’s, like, Supercon,” said Beery. “If Trump is convicted, wherever they lock him up, the whole cell block’s gonna give him a standing ovation—and a year’s supply of Preparation H!”

After the shocking discovery at Bellevue, Smith’s prosecution team issued a subpoena for the contents of the Former Guy’s entrails, from his sphincter up as far as his sigmoid colon. However, action on this order was delayed when the Department of Justice was unable to find a proctologist on the government payroll with a security clearance high enough to permit him or her to poke into the ex-president’s nether parts in search of classified material. 

Eventually, it was Dr. Proberman himself who passed the rigorous vetting process of the Federal Bureau of Investigation. On the eve of the Former Guy’s trial here, and against the objections of both Trump and his legal team, Dr. Proberman took the plunge. In a more than two-hour procedure, referred to irreverently by one media observer as “Operation Rathole,” the prominent proctologist removed and conveyed immediately to FBI custody nineteen documents and—remarkably—one badly soiled golf shirt.

It was determined, after examining—and cleaning—the papers that had been jammed inside the former reality TV star, that only a dozen were labeled Secret or Top Secret. One item, released to the press, was a “love letter” to Trump signed (with emojis) by North Korean dictator Kim Jong Un. There was also a badly discolored Polaroid snapshot of former Secretary of State Hillary Clinton defaced with a Sharpie by the addition of a Hitler-style mustache, a pair of horns and a word than begins with “C”. 

Dr. Proberman’s revelation of this orifice trove forced prosecutors to delay the trial, while the FBI undertook an exhaustive search for more documents squirreled away by the pack-rat ex-president. This began with subpoenaed x-rays and MRIs of his and his family’s bodies. 

Since then, a veritable horde of hidden documents, many bearing classified markings, have turned up throughout what has come to be known as Trumpworld. 

Investigators rifling through Trump’s more than 200 closets in his various homes, country clubs, penthouses, cars and golf bags were not surprised to learn that several of the Former Guy’s exceedingly long neckties were composed entirely of national secrets dyed in bright hues of red and blue. But one FBI agent was nonplussed to discover that one of Melania’s cocktail dresses consisted of Top Secret nuclear battle plans for the hypothetical invasion and subjugation of France.

Subsequently, more presidential documents, both classified and insignificant—but owned officially by the National Archives—have been found taped to the roofs of golf carts in Florida, New Jersey, Scotland and Oman. A Top Secret birthday card from Vladimir Putin was stuffed into Tiffany Trump’s underwear drawer, and six more classified folders were found in a pair of Shaquille O’Neal’s sneakers in Trump Tower. 

The FBI made similar discoveries taped to the backs of Trump’s more than 350 portraits, rolled up and stuffed into the barrel of Donald Junior’s elephant gun, layered between Steve Bannon’s shirts and transformed into wallpaper in Walt Nauta’s Mar-a-Lago bungalow.

Said an FBI spokesperson, “They’re everywhere. We’re going to have to send scuba divers—with Top Secret clearance—to the bottom of every water hazard in every Trump fairway from Jupiter to Aberdeen.”

Despite the unfinished status of the searches at all the Former Guy’s properties, as well as the homes, closets and toilet tanks of his family, friends, flunkies and attorneys, special counsel Smith has decided to continue the trial, using all the evidence thus far accumulated. 

As the Former Guy’s prosecution begins again, the lingering mystery, is why he insisted on taking so much stuff from the White House and why he fought so hard to prevent anyone from recovering it.

One former Trump staffer, familiar with child psychology, tried to explain. “A little brat named Donny has an all-day sucker. But it’s only one sucker. He sees a little girl with an all-day sucker. He runs over and slobbers all over it. She says, “Yuk.” Now, it’s his. Donny sees a boy with an all-day sucker. He sneaks up, knocks it to the ground. The boy cries. The sucker is dirty and the boy doesn’t want it. Now it’s Donny’s. He sees a little old lady giving away all-day suckers. He comes up behind her, hits her on the head and takes all the suckers.

“Here’s the nub. Donny doesn’t really like all-day suckers. But he wants them all, every sucker on earth—so nobody else can have one.”