Author: PD Scullin

V.P. Mike Pence is a happy man.

“I think the president and I have cleared our small flare up,” the milquetoast man told The Lint Screen. “That kerfuffle last Wednesday at the Capitol was simply a little misunderstanding between me and the boss. The president’s angry mob of patriots was instructed to hunt me down and hang me like a dog if I allowed Joe Biden to become president. Well, I guess I got that message too late. Oops! I told the president I was sorry for my tiny boner.”

Pence becomes shocked. “Oh, my, please don’t print that last line.”

Trump’s army of lunatics invaded the Capitol building as it was in the process of declaring Joe Biden the next president of the United States. Pence’s role was supervising the Senate as it officially declared Biden the winner of the Electoral College: 306 votes to Trump’s 232 votes.

“The ingenuity of the president’s crowd was remarkable,” Pence said, shaking his head in admiration. “They had constructed gallows with a noose for my neck–– can you imagine the dexterity required to fashion a noose knot?! It is amazing how the good Lord blesses some individuals with such incredible rope skills. When I tie up Mother, my knots are never as secure as she’d like them to be. She spanks me.” Pence smiled. “I deserve it.”

When the Capitol invasion happened, Pence was taken away by security forces and secluded in a safe space.

“I guess my secret service detail thought I might be in danger,” Pence said. “But I think they may have overreacted. The president assured me there were a lot of good people in the Capitol, his loyal supporters, and they would not have allowed a hair on my head to be damaged. Which is good because I use a can of Aqua Net every morning.”

Pence said he and President Trump have cleared the air of any ill will.

“Our nation is blessed to have Donald Trump,” Pence said. “He only wants what’s best for America, and he told me not enacting the 25th Amendment will help preserve the country so we can get to the bottom of exactly how Joe Biden stole this election. We really must stop the steal.”

Pence bows his head and says a silent prayer.

“I am so thankful the president spared my life,” he said. “I’d hate to have died like a dog on the gallows.”

The vice president smiled. “President Trump is a good man,” Pence declared. “He is a very forgiving and compassionate man and I’m honored to serve by his side.”

Pence leaned in and whispered, “Please tell the president what I said. Please!”

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.

Rep. Jim Jordan used to be a wrestling coach at Ohio State University, but he didn’t have to put President Donald J. Trump in a half nelson to get a full throated compliment from the big man.

“I love Jimbo,” the maniac-in-chief said. “He has some of the softest lips in Congress and he knows how to use them.”

Today Trump awarded Jordan the previously prestigious Presidential Medal of Freedom, the highest US civilian honor. Other notable shitbirds Trump has awarded Medals to include Rush Limbaugh and Rep. Devin Nunes.

“Both Jim and Devin deserve this honor,” Trump told The Lint Screen. “Each man is a great ass kisser in his own right. They’re in the same league as Ted Cruz or Kevin McCarthy, or even Josh Hawley. These men have consistently coddled and enabled me as I’ve done my high crimes and misdemeanors. They’ll back all my looney conspiracy theories, no matter what. That kind of behavior does not go unnoticed by me.”

“I knew from the first time I puckered up and planted two lips the president’s pillows I was in love,” Jordan said. “It just felt like I had found my home. I’m not taking anything away from Devin, but I think he’s more of a sloppy kisser. I like to keep my kisses dry and passionate. Firm and warm pressure, that’s my secret.”

These weasel traitors to democracy have continued their assault on the Constitution throughout Trump’s reign of terror.

“Hell,” Jordan proclaims, “we even backed him on his recent bullshit election fraud cases. And we encouraged the murderous rampage ransacking of the U.S. Capitol. Whatever it takes, we got the president’s backside. People like me, we’re complicit cowards. We need a strong daddy figure like the president.”

“Jim, I love you,” Trump said, grabbing the coach and planting a kiss on his face cheek. “You’re with me to the end, right, buddy?”

“Right, Skipper,” Jordan said. “I’m always there for you! I’ve got no soul, no morals, no sense of decency.”

“My kind of guy,” Trump said, as he undid his trousers and Jordan dropped to his knees and went to work proving his mettle in earning his medal.

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.

They believe whatever he tells them, and President Donald Trump for months has been telling his rubes if he somehow lost the election it “would be because it’s rigged.”

And like gullible suckers who believe in magic beans, they bought it. Hook, line, and sinker.

These “patriots” worried that the radical Joe Biden will destroy the beautiful utopian America Donald Trump has built, so they stormed the United States Capitol and trashed it.

“Oh, we did awful good,” Bucky Philips of Troy, Michigan tells The Lint Screen. “I think we made the president proud of his proud boys. He’s the law and order president and we brought law and order into the Capitol. We can’t allow Biden to get into office and cause anarchy. He’ll wreck the economy and won’t do a good job controlling the COVID like President Trump.“

“Biden cheated Trump out of the election,” Sheila Jackson of Salisbury, North Carolina says. “The president said he won in a landslide. Won all 50 states–– won them big. Trump don’t lie, he don’t have to, he’s the president! I read on Facebook the Chinese worked with Hugo Chavez, Alex Trebek, and Fidel Castro to rig the election for Biden. That just isn’t right, and we’re not going to stand for it.”

Cal Burson of Selma, Alabama thinks Donald Trump is God. “When he held up that bible in front of the church, I swear it sent chills up my damn spine,” Burson says. “Trump’s like Jesus his own self. And one dark night after drinking some liquor and smoking some oregano, he came to me in a dream and said the only way to save democracy is to destroy stuff in the Capitol and wave Confederate and Trump flags. When Jesus talks to you, you better believe I’m going to obey.”

Francine Kensley of Franklin Tennessee says she was persuaded to storm the Capitol by the president’s son Don Jr. “That guy is so dreamy,” she says with stars in her eyes. “I’d do whatever he tells me to. I just want to kiss him on the lips. He’s going to be our next president after his daddy. Then Ivanka, then Eric. The Trumps are our royal family.”

All these MAGA people say they ransacked the Capitol in order to protect our democracy.

“Thank God for good Christian patriots like Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley who bleed red, white, and blue,” Amy Catchly from Springfield, Missouri says. “They’re looking out for folks like us and not their own political future.”

“We can’t have elections that aren’t fair,” says Tim Kincaid of Helen, Georgia. “Had Trump won, then we’d know the election was fair. But since he didn’t, we can be a hundred percent certain it was rigged. And we can’t stand for that. Trump’s never lost anything, he was on TV and everything.”

Jim Tarony displays a Swingline stapler he stole from Nancy Pelosi’s office. “I got me some spoils of war,” he declares. “Can’t wait to staple me some papers.”

Ken Spindle scoffs when asked about criticism of their blatant vandalism. “Hey, maybe it wan’t Trumpers but was Antifa dressed like Trumpers. Ever think of that?”

No. No we didn’t think of that.

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.

It was the jazz side of midnight. I was working the business end of a bottle of Bunions Bourbon when a dame cast a shadow as curvaceous as a Le Mans track my doorway.

“Are you Mr. Schmildlap?” she interrogated.

“What’s it to you?” I snapped.

She stepped forward and purred, “Kiss me. Now.”

I looked her up and down. She was a tall one, a thick mane of auburn hair framed a face angels would kill for. She had lips as lush as maraschino cherries puckering to kiss the sun, skin like porcelain (and probably easier to clean), and legs that went all the way to the floor capped with petite pups housed in a red stilettos that could double for murder weapons in the right hands.

“Sorry,” I said. “I don’t play hanky or panky until I know what I’m getting into.”

“Too bad,” she said, striding across the room. “I thought you could handle it.” She reared back her wing to give me a roundhouse open fist when I stopped her midair.

“Play nice, kitten,” I said. “Or I won’t put out a saucer of milk.”

She recoiled and tried her best to strike a gallant pose, then she began shaking like a bowl of Jell-O in an earthquake and put on a water show.

“Oh, Mr. Schmildlap, I need your help desperately,” she warbled. “I’m at my wit’s end.”

“Then you better start yapping, or I’ll call a plumber to shut down your water works. This suit ain’t wash ‘n wear, doll face.”

She sat in the chair as I went behind my desk, popped my Florsheims on the desk, and torched a Pall Mall.

“It’s President Trump,” she blurted. “Do you know him?”

“Trump?” I ran the name through my memory bank, and it came back like a bad penny. “What’s his beef?”

“The presidential election,” she said. “It was stolen from him.”

“Stolen?”

“Yes. That mean socialist Joe Biden cheated President Trump out of his re-election,” she dabbed her baby blues with tissues, sopping tears like a thirsty sponge. “The president wants you to find the missing 11,780 votes for him so he can win the state of Georgia and stay in the White House.”

“Missing votes?” I asked, pushing my fedora back on my brain cage. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Trump says 11,780 of his votes are missing. He needs them. Senators Josh Hawley, Ron Johnson, Ted Cruz, and other congressional GOP patriots also think a crime’s been committed. Oh, Mr. Schmidlap, won’t you help us save democracy from a tyrant like the notorious radical Joe Biden? He wants to destroy America. Only Donald Trump can save it!”

“Lemme get this straight, dish. You say there’s a mystery…”

“Yes.”

“11,780 missing Trump votes…”

“That’s right. They were shredded, or the Dominion voting machines were rigged to make Trump votes say Biden, or dead people voted, or the dog ate the ballots, or aliens from Mars landed and––”

“Okay, okay, I catch the drift.” I snubbed the cigarette out on my face and blew a plume of smoke. “There’s no mystery here, doll,” I said planting my feet on the floor and standing. “There are no missing 11,780 votes.”

“But there are!”

“Nope. And there never were.”

What do you mean?”

“Haven’t you seen the news? There have been three election counts and recounts in Georgia. Everything adds up. It’s all jake. Trump’s toast. The big galoot lost fair and square. Joltin’ Joe took him down.”

“But what about the 11,780 votes?” she gasped. “Where did they go?”

“It’s bullshit. Trump lied. Made up the entire cockamamie story. He’s a complete bullshitter. Avoids the truth like it’s playing tag. Trump’s a pathological liar, babe. Mystery solved. Case closed.”

“But Mr. Schmildlap, he said he was cheated, and the deep state is out to get him, and the liberal elite media hates him, and dry cleaners have a plot against him by not removing his stubborn gravy stains, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I comforted the dish as I walked her to the door and gave her the air. “Cry me a river, sister. And tell Trump he better get packing. He’s getting evicted January 20th and then it’s not long until he take up residency in the crossbar motel.”

The dame ran down the stairs angry as a hen that’s been refused a small business loan with an impeccable FICO score. I returned to my Bunion’s bottle and maybe the elusive search to discover what the insides of my eyelids looked like.

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.

Sen. Mitch McConnell was not born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

“I came out of the womb,” he says with a chuckle, “grabbed a pillow and suffocated my mother in the hospital bed. I didn’t want to be dependent on her or anyone, and I’ve lived that way ever since.”

This scrappy bag of bones is one tough hombre and thinks Americans have gotten too soft.

“Everyone’s pestering me for $2,000 checks,” Mitch tells The Lint Screen as he swills a Waterford crystal glass filled with infant blood. “That’s preposterous. $2,000 for what? So you can buy some food and feed your children? Pay rent and utility bills? Pay for medical care to stay alive? Get real people. Toughen up, Americans. Go out and get a couple more jobs. Or, ask one of your political action committees to slip you some cash under the table. Of course, you can always get a hefty envelope from a lobbyist. It’s not that hard, people. Use your noodles!”

McConnell is a self-made man.

“I married my first wife for love,” the turd confesses, as he chortles. “What a sap. But I made up for that mistake with my second wife. Elaine Chao is loaded.” McConnell plays with his floppy neck flesh. “Elaine’s old man is a big shot New York shipping guy who’s really tight with the Chinese government. I love China, and they know I would do anything to help them. When I married Elaine, bada bing–– my wealth increased tenfold overnight. Can you believe that? Don’t tell me America isn’t the land of opportunity.”

The Senate majority leader is not completely heartless.

“I make sure my Kentucky constituents get their payola,” McConnell says. “In Kentucky, my people get $2.15 in federal money for every dollar of taxes we pay. That’s over a 100% return on investment. Not too shabby. My people are on the dole big time. That’s why I call Kentucky The Great Welfare State. We look out for our own in these parts.”

McConnell thinks the other 49 states are the problem with America.

“We have way too many goddamn many freeloaders,” the elderly grinch says. “It’s high time folks pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, straighten up and fly right, and make something of themselves. You can’t bellyache because we have a pandemic raging. What do you expect? We have a weak, inept leader and soul-crushingly corrupt and hypocritical GOP legislators. Get tough! You can’t expect the government to help you. We’re dedicated to destroying the government.”

McConnell is brought a box of puppies and kittens and smiles.

“I have to excuse myself now,” he says, taking the box of adorable pets. “I’m, uh, going to train these cute little critters,” McConnell says with his sly smile. “And I am not going to eat them. Honest.”

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.

It’s no secret obsequious GOP politicians clamor for the attention of President Donald J. Trump, and Missouri Senator Josh Hawley may have jumped to the head of the line.

Hawley announced today he would object when Congress counts the Electoral College votes next week, forcing lawmakers in the House and Senate to vote on whether they accept the results of president-elect Joe Biden’s crushing victory.

“I think the election was rigged,” Hawley told The Lint Screen. “It had to be rigged. That’s the only way President Trump could possible lose. Case closed.”

Hawley gives a proud smile and continues.

“By taking this brave stand, I am showing President Trump my blind loyalty, total obedience, and willingness to kiss his ass like Dracula on a plump neck. I hope this patriotic act will curry favor with him and he’ll adopt me. I would make an excellent Trump child, certainly a lot better than Eric.“

Sen. Ted Cruz is upset at Hawley.

“No one kisses President Trump’s ass better than this cowboy,” the douchebag Cruz crowed. “I let Trump accuse my daddy of being involved with JFK’s death, and call my wife ugly, then, guess what? I still puckered up for smooching his sitting pillows. And brother, did I kiss ’em good! I am a spineless nothing of a man, and Trump likes that.”

Sen. Lindsey Graham dismisses both his fellow senators as braggarts.

“Those boys are johnny come latelies,” Graham says, applying a coat of Charlotte Tilbury Matte Revolution Liberty Love lipstick. “If you examine the big man’s behind, you’ll see ol’ Lindsey has laid claim to that turf. And Trump has the lip prints to prove it. Hell, I disavowed my long friendship with John McCain in a nanosecond so that I could kiss Trump’s fat ass. I’m as soulless and craven as they come.”

Jim Jordan, Matt Gaetz, Mike Pence, and Mark Meadows march down the hall, wanting to dispute their GOP compatriots’ claims. Each cowardly stooge is anxious to be named Trump’s #1 Ass Kisser and confess they say The Pledge Allegiance to Trump hourly.

They will engage in an epic kiss-a-palooza to prove their mettle and worthiness.

Gentlemen, start your lips, America wants to see how low you can go!

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Enjoy PD Scullin’s debut novel “SAWDUST: Love is wilder than a circus,” a humorous romp across America with a circus in the early ’80s. You’re a click away from a helluva fun ride. Buckle up and go.