By Tommy Acosta
(July 21, 2020)
I just love playing this game. I put myself in the shoes of someone really important and ask myself what I would do if I were them.
What would I do if I were Biden or Trump?
To get into character I have to strip myself of every last vestige of morality, sense of fairness, mercy, decency and humanity. I need to embrace the politician in me.
As a journalist this should not be too hard.
I’m ready. Pull no punches. I’m them.
If I were Biden
I would stay in the basement as long as I could get away with it.
Realizing I no longer remember anything I would need someone to tell me all the time where I am and what I am doing. Preferably a Candy Striper.
I would participate in a debate or two but again, from my basement, only with a teleprompter in front of me and a transmitter in my ear giving me the answers to the questions or accusations my opponent throws at me, in real time.
I would also hire a team of comedians to create one-liners for me to make fun of Trump. This way I wouldn’t have to think of a cohesive answer. Still, how the hell am I supposed to remember any of this?
I could also re-purpose the Black Lives Matter slogan to Black Votes Matter. I don’t think any of them would vote for my opponent under any conditions so that seems like a safe bet.
Where was I? Where am I? It’s buried in there somewhere. Oh yes.
Actually, I would probably quit before I make a total bumbling idiot of myself on national media. Maybe I already have but I don’t remember.
At that point I would pass the baton to Hilary if whatever-her-name-is disappears the same way her boss did.
Or I could hand it back to Bernie. He’d be perfect but I’m not sure why. I may not be here but I know Bernie would be there. I think. Wherever there is, that is.
I had something else in mind but I forgot. Anyway, that’s…whatever…you know.
Oh heck, the best answer is not to come out of the basement until after the election.
Don’t participate in anything. Give them carefully orchestrated clips. Make them beg for a glimpse of me.
Come up with some physical thing. Can’t leave the basement for medical reasons.
No one needs to know anything specific. Tell them the future president of the United States is taking care of himself to make sure when he wins the election he comes out of the gate clean and healthy and ready to get the job done.
Yup. Play the risk factor to my health. I’m staying in until he moves out…of the Oval Office that is.
The first thing I would do is cut down on the diet soda. All those chemicals are not good for one’s health and can make a person irritable, angry and mean. The being mean shtick has run out of gas. Maybe drinking Chamomile Tea would be more conducive to a kinder, gentler Donald Trump.
A lot of people were turned off by the meanness to Latinos, especially with the Dreamer thing and ripping babies from their mother’s arms at the border.
Time to change my image.
I would switch on the charm, come out like the champion of hope for the DACA people and the Goya-loving population. Put ICE on ice for a while. At least until I get elected.
I could continue to stir the fires of hate and create a race war that only I through military force puts an end to. Of course, I would probably have to suspend the elections. Not a bad idea but I don’t think I have enough time to cook it. That can wait until later. People need to be scared a bit more before we can play that card.
For now calling in Homeland Security and the National Guard to bust some heads will have to do.
I need something now… Hmmm…
I need a Hail Mary.
And what could be a better Hail Mary than ending the Coronavirus pandemic for good?
I would need to stop Dr. Doom and his handler Bill Gates from derailing it, because they want to vaccinate and chip the world as everyone knows.
Maybe I could launch some kind of investigation into why hydroxychloroquine is being systematically suppressed. Name some names. Break some legs. I’ll bet Dr. Diminutive has some tiny little skeletons rattling around in his miniature closet he would not like dangled.
I would threaten or offer sweet deals to any organization, anyone who can help me get that drug into the hands of the public. The drug companies I invest in have manufactured millions of pills that are stockpiled and waiting to be prescribed. We can give them to anyone testing positive, anyone who wants it, free. They take it and get cured. I get the credit.
I’ll need the help of Sean and my other sycophants on Fox to get the FDA to approve its use. I will destroy anyone who gets in my way. People will love me even more. They will thank me for saving them and I will be re-elected.
And that’s, that!