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Wayne LaPierre Visits TrumpFacebooktwitterlinkedinmail

America’s protector in chief, Wayne LaPierre, enters the White House and, as a secret service agent approaches, waves go away. “It’s okay, I’m only packing a pistol.”

“Excuse me, sir, but no one’s permitted to bear a firearm when entering the Oval Office.”

“Listen, son, I’m head of the NRA that donated more than thirty million bucks that got your boss elected.”

“Sorry, but no exceptions.”

“Then tell President Trump our meeting’s off.”

The agent speaks into a small device clipped to his collar and, in seconds, big Donald Trump walks fast as he can out of his office and says, “Wayne, hold on. Please don’t leave.”

“I’ll have to if you try to take my gun.”

Trump points at the secret service agent, and three others who’ve appeared, and says, “Don’t worry, Wayne, they’ll protect you.”

“I believe in protecting myself, and I might have to since I know those guys are armed. How about you?”

“I have a concealed weapons permit, and this is my house.”

“I’ve got more concealed weapons permits than anyone.”

Trump looks at each of the four agents and says, “It’ll be all right.”

“No way, sir,” says the original agent.

“You guys relax. Come on, Wayne.” The two warriors, who somehow missed their opportunity in Vietnam, walk toward the Oval Office.

Trump extends a hand toward a chair and after LaPierre sits, Trump, standing at attention, tells him, “You know how much I love guns and the NRA but sometimes we need brass balls. Like I’ve just told the nation, I believe I would’ve stormed into that high school in Parkland, Florida even if I didn’t have a weapon. Those four armed and trained cops who stayed outside are a disgrace.”

“I would’ve charged in, too, Mr. President. But I damn sure wouldn’t have been unarmed. Why the hell would anyone be unarmed in this violent country that’s been ruined by The Obama Decade of European-style socialists seizing control? None of them believe in freedom or capitalism or assault rifles in every home. It’s terrifying.

“The intellectual elites think they’re smarter and better than all of us, but they’re too arrogant to understand socialism is feeding racism and sexism and xenophobia. What socialists really want is ban guns.”

Trump, still standing, says, “Wayne, as long as I’m president, no one will ever ban guns in the United States. I love the Second Amendment, and you know it.”

“I sure do, Mr. President. We’re law-abiding citizens who support guns so we can fight illegal aliens and gangs and opioids.”

“Above all, we’ve got to protect our kids,” Trump says. “And that means we’re going to have to raise the legal age to twenty-one for buying assault weapons.”

Shooting straight up, LaPierre aims an index finger at the president and says, “No sir. We can’t tell people old enough to serve and die in the armed forces that they can’t buy an assault rifle to protect their homes. You know what would be next. There’d be universal background checks, then universal gun registry, and then the socialists would start knocking on our doors in the middle of the night and taking away our guns and our liberties.”

“You may be a little hyper, Wayne, and that’s understandable since you’re really under fire from the left.”

“As usual, the socialists are trying to exploit a national tragedy,” says LaPierre. “They’re smearing the NRA because they hate the Second Amendment and despise personal freedom. Instead of blaming us, the lefties should admit the failures of the family and the mental health system and the FBI.”

“Don’t worry, Wayne. We’re going to make our schools hardened targets.”

LaPierre tries to smile but is unable to complete the maneuver, perhaps due to the burdens he must carry. “God bless you, President Trump. We’re fortunate to have a commander in chief who understands it’s lunacy to secure our airports and athletic events and concerts – except in Las Vegas – and banks and businesses and just about everything else while we leave our schools wide open and the most inviting of targets.”

Nodding, Trump says, “We agree that teachers are going to have to be armed and trained along with secretaries and custodians and of course security guards and all other adults on campus. But listen, Wayne, we gotta give the left something. We gotta get rid of those bump stocks that basically turn an automatic rifle into a machine gun.”

“I agree, Mr. President. The NRA doesn’t want any more automatic weapons. Semi-automatic arms are good enough to maintain to our freedom.”

Swiftly reaching inside his coat Trump pulls out a revolver, points it at the ceiling, smiles, and says, “Pretty slow there, Wayne.”

“I didn’t expect that from you, sir.”

“Next time, be ready.”

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This entry was posted in Donald Trump, Guns, Mental Health, Murder, NRA, Wayne LaPierre.