My friends ask me, Donald, are you ready for the debate with crooked Hillary? I say, I have never been more ready for anything in my life. I’m going for the jugular! She won’t know what hit her. KO, first round. She’ll be on the ground twitching, like this, looking like a gazelle that just got the crap kicked out of it by a lion. While 150 million people watch! It’ll be good TV, really great. I can hardly wait.
Sure, we’ll talk policy. The Middle East needs us. ISIS is bad, people. We need to be smart! Also, we’ve got to talk about the economy. The economy is important to so many hardworking Americans. So is energy! Like coal. What are we going to do about coal? I’ve got some great plans for coal. But that’s for later, because tonight’s the big event. It’s going to be a massacre!
It won’t even be fair. Huma Abdaluma or whatever, if she’s recovered from her husband’s embarrassing sicko peep show, is going to come running up to the stage, begging me to show mercy to her boss. And I will. But not till I’ve ripped out her heart and lungs! I sort of feel bad for Hillary. We’ve got to, don’t we, people? Everyone’s saying to me, Donald, you can’t be too hard on her, because she’s in bad health. Don’t get her blood pressure up. She could croak. Okay, okay, I’ll take it easy, only because I don’t want to be charged with murder.
Joking! She’s dead meat. People, I’m pumped for the debate!
Donald J. Trump is the Republican presidential nominee and a businessman from New York
My friends often inquire, Hillary, are you ready for the debate with Donald Trump? Hah! You bet I am. Seriously, we have been preparing for this event non-stop since July, slowly building up my drug tolerance. I’m treating it as a matter of life or death. Literally. I don’t want to die tonight. I’m taking every pharmaceutical precaution: warfarin, ephedrine, dextroamphetamine, phenytoin, lorazepam, you name it!
I am so grateful my debate preparation team, specifically neurologist Dr. Henrik Carlsson and Dr. Barkha Hazra, professor of cardiology at Johns Hopkins. I want to offer my sincerest thanks to a very special man, one who has stood by my side when I’ve needed him most: Dr. Christopher Rutkin, whose little jabs of whatever that stuff is give me the jolt I need to get through those long, five-minute speeches when my brain gets fuzzy and I start going on a mental canoe trip to Happy Island.
I am so medicated, you can probably get high just by standing near me. No, but seriously, I have popped so many pills today, I just hope I don’t get pulled over by the cops on the way to the debate venue. The drug test results will shoot off the charts! Joking, joking. There’s no way I’ll get pulled over. I don’t drive. Heck, I haven’t sat behind a wheel in 20 years. Yippee! But I can run a mile in under five minutes. Want to see me do it? Watch me do a cartwheel.
To all my supporters at home and financial backers abroad who worry that their millions of dollars in donations will all be for naught due to a moment’s loss of cognitive function followed by three steps right, three steps left, a sudden lurch forward and then a nosedive into the first row of spectators: fear not. I’m so amped up, I couldn’t lose consciousness if I tried. Really. I haven’t slept for days. Look at me, I can fly! Hold my things while I climb up on this statue. Look, I’ve grown wings!
I’m totally pumped with meds for the debate tonight!
Hillary Clinton is the Democrat presidential nominee, a former secretary of state and senator from New York