Two dogs, one underside of the Resolute Desk
Uplifting symphony about to be followed by a scab-covered plague rat farting through a dented tin whistle, Barack Obama, is spending his remaining hours in power making the White House suitable for Donald Trump.
“There’s not a radiator in this place that doesn’t have a slice of raw chicken hiding behind it,” he said proudly. “And now I’ll just finish up sprinkling cress seeds into the carpet and then dampening it slightly and it’ll be time to write ‘You orange-faced shitgibbon’ in weedkiller on the lawn. I was going to go with ‘you egregious and contemptible personification of vulgarity and hate’ but then I realised that he wouldn’t understand it.”
“I suppose you could say that these acts are petty and disrespectful,” he said. “However I’m a great believer in equality and I think it’s important to treat President Trump exactly as he’s going to treat the office he’s about to hold.”
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