(A continuing novella that explains all the ‘Why does Trump…’ and ‘Why doesn’t Trump…?’ questions.

By Smithfix)


Setting- Trump’s Mar-a-Lago estate, Trump's Study, late evening. Circa; one year after Trump's election.

   "What the fuck, James!" Trump yelled, as The Operator walked in. "I feel like anyone associated with me is going to be trashed and even with both Houses I can't get shit done! I am President! You motherfuckers told me to appoint these people, now all hell is about to break loose! Where the fuck have you been?!"

   "Donald, calm down." The Operative said as he closed the door calmly.

   Then he wheeled on Trump, and in three strides had the President of the United States by the throat in a grip that promised death.

   "If you ever do that again; compromise all our work with an open door, you are a dead man!" 'James' snarled into Trump's ear before throwing him into his chair behind the desk. "Your bumbling and fucking Tweets are problem enough!" He hissed. "Do you think we picked Pence for you for no reason? At this point, if you don't tread carefully he will be in that chair; and not because you 'resigned’”!

   Trump, just stared in shock. He had never been so treated in his life! He had always had security and for someone to lay a hand on him was unthinkable! Violence was for others, not for his class; it was crude, it was something the masses had to deal with and be entertained by, it was not… real! But here it was, staring him in the face. This mild mannered, well dressed, seemingly cultured man in an expensive suit had just handled him like a rag doll and was now looking down at him with a coldness in his eyes that left no doubt of his intention to… what? … kill, if not obeyed instantly? Trembling and wondering if he had sported his trousers, Trump said in a choked whisper; his throat hurt, “You can’t do this to me!”

   The Operative took a step back from his threatening position over the prostrate Trump and half sat on the edge of the desk, one foot on the floor, one foot dangling. Suddenly his whole demeanor changed. The cold intensity was gone, replaced with a casual air of assuredness. As before when dealing with Trump he gave the casual wave of a hand to dismiss the moments before and spoke. “Yes, Donald, I can. Let that be the last time you act that way with me. Yes? For the next time will be the last time.”

   As Trump pulled himself into a more proper sitting position he said. “How do you think you have the right…”

   “To what?” interrupted The Operative, with a feral grin and some of the frigidity returning to his eyes. “Treat you like a spoiled child? To correct behavior that endangers years of work and millions, no, hundreds of millions of dollars? To kill you? Yes, Donald I do have that right because you gave it to us, remember? Or have you forgotten? To my employers you are a ‘position’ not a ‘person.’ That position comes with responsibilities to those who put you there. Fail in those obligations and as you are so famous for saying, “YOU’RE FIRED.” Loyalty can always be put to a Dollar Value, Donald. You could scream right now and no one would come.” The Operative mused to himself. ‘How cheaply can be bought the silence of a people? The acquiescence to ignorance is a commodity like any other.’  

   “But I’m the President!” Trump blurted.

   “You are, but that is just one of the positions in government that is supposed to be inviolate. If necessary anyone can be replaced. I already mentioned Kennedy, so I will give you another example. A Supreme Court Justice has Secret Service security and all the trappings to go along with that position. Do you remember Justice Scalia?  

   “Of course. We put Gorsuch in to replace him…” Trump began and stopped as it hit him.

   “No Donald, ‘We’ put him in.” The Operative said, pointing to himself. “Not ‘we’.” Now he pointed back and forth between himself and Trump. “Sudden death, no autopsy; a position vacated and held open for the next choice, our next choice.”

   “But why?” Trump asked.

   “That is not your concern, Donald. Your only concern is to keep your followers following you, regardless of what you do or who you appoint. You continue to listen to our advisers. You give lip service to any “Official Adviser” whose advice contradicts.  We will handle the rest. Are we clear?”

   “Yes, but I can’t get things done with all the interference.” Trump said querulously.

   “But you are, Donald. You are right on schedule.” The Operator said. “You are just where you should be at this point in your first term. You have shown the world that you will not be trifled with. That you don’t need proof to fire weapons on Israel’s enemies and will make good on America’s obligation to let Israel expand till it feels safe, even if that means giving land like the Golan, by imperial edict, over to them despite International Law and never pulling out of Syria. That attacking Iran is something you would relish and that your attitude to diplomacy is the club, not the negotiating table. You have shown that you will do what you can to cause economic chaos for any nation that thinks it does not have to pay attention when The United States speaks. As we told you would happen, your base is supporting you without question because of the opposition to you and the lies ‘They’ are telling. You have kept Sessions on, so Hillary is satisfied that you are not going to come for her so she is not a threat at this time.

   With an upward twist of his lip that was more of a smirk than a smile, The Operator said, “Oh, yes, you are just where you should be. Now we have issues to ‘clarify’ before I run out of time. Let’s start with NATO…“, and pulled a small notebook from his inside jacket pocket.



Setting- Mid-morning on a golf course.

“This is great, not a person on the course today?” Asked Trump as he teed up his ball on the first hole.

   “Not a soul but your detail, and they know to stay well back. We bought every tee time so you don’t lose any money. By the way, why do seem to only play on your own courses?”

   With a genuine laugh Trump replied, “Because I cheat!” and he roared with mirth. Wiping the tears from his eyes, and catching his breath, Trump continued. “It is fun to watch folks ‘not-noticing’ it too, you should see their faces’! Hell, Google it, I’m famous for it.  Who cares, I’m not that damned good but I like to play.”

   For the first time, The Operative let himself like this man. Just a little, like a guy might like a chicken he raised; but if it was time to make dinner… . 



-------------------------------------------------------------STAY TUNED-------------------------------------------------------------








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Comment by Chris of the family Masters on November 1, 2019 at 2:46am

Closer to the reality that our manufactured one.

" To learn who rules over you find out whom you are not allowed to criticize"

"Destroying the New World Order"


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