‘Lest We Forget’ List of Trump White House Sackings Shocker
Letter from Llanaber
...Global politics seen through life in this strange tiny village in West Wales...
I was summoned for an emergency meeting with the boss of the Llanaber parish council, Mrs. Dorothy ‘Binky’ Trim, as soon as I turned up for work this morning. She sat me on the sheep milking stool in front of her desk and bellowed down at me the following, and I quote verbatim:
“I have erred, my little butt licker. We need to start a massive recruitment drive. I need at least another twenty three senior staff ASAP!”
Naturally my curiosity got the better of me and I foolishly asked why.
“Look at this,” she barked and threw a string of news feed ticker tape wrapped round a heavy paperweight at my head. Luckily I stopped it with my nose before it could do any damage. I unfurled the now blood-soaked tape and read the news article. It consisted of a list of names and job titles thus:
‘Michael Flynn - National security adviser: James Comey - FBI Director: Mike Dubke - White House Communications Director: Katie Walsh - Deputy White House Chief of Staff: Derek Harvey - Top Middle East Adviser for National Security Council: Sean Spicer – White House Press Secretary: Reince Priebus - Chief of Staff: Anthony Scaramucci - Senior Adviser to the President and White House Communications Director: Steve Bannon - Chief Strategist: Tom Price - Secretary of Health and Human Services: Brenda Fitxgerald - Centers for Disease Control and Prevention Center: Andrew McCabe – FBI Deputy Director: Omarosa Manigault Newman - Director of Communications for the White House Office of Public Liaison: Sebastian Gorka - Deputy Assistant to the President: Rob Porter - White House Staff Secretary: Hops Hicks - White House Communications Director: Gary Cohn - Director of the National Economics Council: Rex Tillerson - Secretary of State: H R McMaster - National Security Adviser: David Shulkin - Veterans Affairs Secretary Thomas Bossert – Homeland Security Adviser: Scott Pruitt - EPA Administrator.’
I was flummoxed.
What was this about?
Like an idiot I asked her and this was the reply.
“Since ‘Wonder-bonce’ fiddled the US election in 2016 there has been no less than twenty three ‘departures’ of senior staff in the White House. Since I took office at around the same time I haven’t sacked anybody! This makes me look weak.”
I pointed out that she had, in fact, exercised her prerogative on two occasions since taking office.
Firstly she had thrown old Mrs. Clinton off the council (and into clink) after exposing her as a leftie-fifth-columnist in an Arkady Babchenco style sting when she called for Mrs. T’s fat kids to be brought home form their year-long junket in Orlando at the village hospital budget’s expense.
Secondly she had separated old Thomas the gravedigger (honorary title – Llanaber doesn’t have a graveyard) from his decrepit nonagenarian parents and had him thrown into a cage behind the swings in the village school. I then had to concede that the old duffer had been pardoned by Mrs. T and given his job back.
“At least you’ve sacked one person,” I said lamely.
“No I haven’t,” she snapped, “The old bag is entitled by law to keep her seat on the council until she’s been given a fair trial, found guilty and hanged by the neck until dead.”
I pointed out that the village doesn’t carry the death penalty, especially not for crimes such as ‘bad-mouthing Mrs. Trim’s porcine kids.’
“Not yet it doesn’t,” she said with an evil glint in her eye.
FYI – Justice in the village is administered once every ten years when Lord Justice Brown-Envelope passes through. However, he’s 106 years old and has just announced that he intends to retire within the next ten years. Mrs. T has lined up the vacancy this will create for her lard-assed husband, Leonard, as he has an ‘O’ level in law, specialising in packaging and labelling.
Once again I digress. This is what happened next.
Mrs. T instructed me to ‘invent’ twenty three non-existent council positions, all with fancy job titles and gobsmacking remuneration packages. I am then to advertise these vacancies throughout the neighbouring villages by means of printed posters stapled at eye level to telegraph poles. Candidates will be invited to contact me directly if they think they can meet the easy criteria I will set for each job, i.e. they are alive and not in a coma.
I am then to arrange for suitable candidates to be interviewed in my office. The furniture is to be rearranged so that a space against the opposite wall to my desk can be made free so a single wardrobe can be installed. The doors are to be removed and a curtain fitted across the front.
Each candidate will be asked a list of pre-determined questions that are so easy they will be deemed ideal for the position he or she applied for. (Actually ‘he’ only – despite Mrs. T being rumoured to be female, she won’t have another ‘bitch’ on the council staff following her bad experience with old mother Clinton).
The questions are to be as follows:
No. 1 - What’s your favourite colour?
No. 2 - Who makes the best fudge in Llanaber, your potential future employer the wonderful Mrs. Dorothy ‘Binky’ Trim, or that left wing subversive fifth-columnist, extra-terrestrial scumbag Mrs Clinton?
Once the candidate has answered I am to look delighted, leap out of my chair and shake him firmly by the hand and shout very loudly, “Welcome to the team!”
At this point Mrs. T, who will be hiding in the wardrobe, will leap from behind the curtain, stretch out her arm and point her index finger at the newly appointed employee and yell, “J’accuse!”
FYI – It is common knowledge that Mrs. Clinton makes the better fudge. She puts more butter in her recipe. Amazingly Mrs. T is prepared to temporarily accept this point in order to meet the needs of this absurd trickery. Should the candidate toady up and answer Mrs. Trim’s he would be lying. Should he answer honestly and say ‘Mrs. Clinton’s then he would be declaring his allegiance to the forces moving against Mrs. Trim to undermine her version of democracy. i.e. a totalitarian dictatorship with her at the helm.
Either way it’s a sackable offence in our council chambers.
Mateo the Knife, the head of village Homeland Security and Protection from Extra Terrestrials Service (PETS) will be summoned to manhandle the recently fired employee from the building and out on his ass into the fog.
Technically Mrs. T would have fired the guy even though he only lasted a couple of seconds in the job. I have to repeat this farce twenty three times. My timetable is that the whole risible exercise has to be completed by noon tomorrow, so the posters with the vacancies have to be prepared for stapling to telegraph poles by close of play today.
So, it is with a sense of a foreboding disaster I start preparing the list of fictitious vacancies and their bogus remunerative packages.
Vacancy List – Llanaber Parish Council: Hiring NOW!
Suitable candidates are invited to apply for the following recently created vacancies in the village parish council:
Village Pond Duck Flight Co-Ordinator - £1m pa.
Head of Fog - £2m pa
Sink Hole Tourism Director - Salary £79m pa
Speaking Tube Maintenance Manager - £100m pa
‘Restroom in the High Street’ Handwashing Checker - £1bn + free nose peg pa
Head of Sheep Sexing - £10bn pa (plus exemption from arrest)
Spanibont ‘Rowdies’ Peace Envoy - £10bn + hospital bills paid pa
Village Maidens Feminine Heath Checker – You pay us £1m pa
… I can’t face doing any more. I’m losing the will to live.
That’s it for now.