Florida culture warrior and Gov. Ron DeSantis has been making subtle moves indicating a run for the presidency––publishing a book, becoming a Fox News darling, and fighting the woke. But one thing he hasn’t done––pick a fight with the GOP’s great White House hope––disgraced twice-impeached, and recently indicted ex-President Donald J. Trump.
Until now, that is!
DeSantis visited The Lint Screen offices in Tallahassee to discuss his presidential hopes.
“I’m a lot like Donald Trump,” DeSantis said, cramming his mouth with fistfuls of Nacho Cheese Doritos. “I’m a bad boy. A naughty ragamuffin. I’m no damn good. While I feel for the unfair treatment of the former president, I think American citizens should know I will do a lot worse. I like sinning, so if the GOP is looking for the anti-law and order guy, they got him in this sexy package.”
DeSantis smiles, crossing his legs and sending shafts of blinding sunlight reflected off his white booties dancing across walls.
“I’m what the GOP needs,” DeSantis says. “I am a fighter––a scoop of Florida sand in the Vaseline of political correctness. I took on Disney, women’s reproductive rights, and loosened gun controls so every citizen can carry a gun like a desperado in the Wild West. AR-15s are cool by me. Hell, toss hand grenades for all I care. I also fought covid vaccines. I’ve made every day in Florida like playing the lottery. Feelin’ lucky, punk?” He grins.
“I also have fought drag queens who read,” DeSantis claims. “Literacy and cross-dressing don’t mix. And I’ve rewritten history books so white people never feel guilty. I’m making mayo on white bread, the order of the day.”
The Grubbynor shovels more Doritos into his gob, working his jaw like a beaver in a balsa wood forest.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he says, orange crumbs falling from the corners of his mouth. “I still love Trump and think he is the second coming. But in case he can’t make it to the White House due to legal problems, I’m on deck, and getting oranger by the day.”
He thrusts two orange-dusted thumbs into the air and dances the mashed potato in his spiffy white boots.
“Back, Ron,” he shouts. “He’s the bad-boy bomb!”
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