Trump's Nightmare at 20,000 Feet

My apologies to Rod Sterling and William Shatner for my mangling of one of the most popular Twilight Zone episodes. I thought it was a good way to highlight Trump's obsession with Clinton.

Trump's Nightmare at 20,000 Feet

It was a long flight back from the far East on Air Force One. Donald Trump was relaxing in his over sized seat but unable to sleep for some reason. He had just had three Big Macs, two fish sandwiches, a large piece of chocolate cake, an order of fries and several diet cokes, so he wasn't hungry. Or at least not that hungry. And Hope Hicks had steamed his pants all the way up to the crotch. Melania wasn't around to nag him about Stormy. So he should be able to sleep, or so he thought.

He stared out the window at the wing and engines, barely visible in the mist and darkness. The cabin was dark and the only reflection on the window was a small star from the bathroom light at the back end of the cabin. Suddenly, there was an odd illusion, for a moment it looked like someone was out there walking on the wing. He stared more intently and the ghostly apparition seemed to resolve itself into a woman in a white pantsuit. A woman walking on the wing.

Suddenly, the apparition took three bounds and it's face came within a few feet of the outside of the aircraft window. It's face staring intently through the window pane and into Trump's eyes. Trump gave a startled gasp and jerked back. Shaking his head and scrunching his eyes, he again looked out the window and saw nothing. No woman in white on the wing. He must have dozed for a moment.

He called for another Big Mac and meditatively munched on it. The dream had been so real and startling. It took a few minutes to get over it. He again lowered the lights and tried to sleep. He watched the mist drifting past the wing and the clouds further out and his eyes half closed.

Suddenly, the woman in the white pantsuit was back. She seemed to drift down from somewhere above and to the rear of the plane and land on all fours on the wing, about midway out, gripping the leading edge. She turned and stared into Trump's eyes, and then, as if to make sure he knew she was there, she waved at him. A Slow wave taking the entire arm back and forth. She then smiled, released the leading edge of the wing and drifted up and back towards the rear of the plane.

Again, Trump gasped and jerked in his seat. He shook his head and rubbed his eyes, and again looked out the window. But there was nothing there but mist.

Trump felt positively creepy. He ordered up a couple more Big Macs and a fish sandwich for comfort. When the stewardess brought the order, he asked her, “Did you see anything out there on the wing a couple of minutes ago?”.

She gave him a quizzical look and replied, “On the wing? You mean outside the plane there?”.

Trump sighed and was silent for a moment, “It was a dream. But it seemed so real I guess I have to reassure myself.”

The stewardess patted Trump's shoulder and made her way back to the station in the back of the cabin.

Trump began to doze. He was in this state for several minutes when Air Force One was rocked by some small turbulence. Trump again opened his eyes. The same dark night with with the mist swirling about the plane greeted him. But suddenly, the woman in the white pantsuit again drifted down from above and behind. Again she landed on all fours on the wing, this time just above the outboard engine on the 747. She made her way down to the engine and sat on top. She opened an access hatch and a white glow came from within the engine. She began poking about inside. She suddenly stopped, turned, and again made eye contact with Trump. She waved. She then released her grip and drifted upwards and back out of the range of the window.

Trump was very shaken. He ordered another Big Mac and a piece of chocolate cake. When the stewardess arrived he gripped her jacket, looked up at her and hissed, “There is someone out there. A woman in a white pantsuit. I've seen her several times now. I know that sounds impossible, but I've seen her.”

The stewardess detached his hand from the sleeve of her jacket and patted Trump's shoulder. “You're trying to sleep in a strange place after a long hard trip and you're having bad dreams. That's all.” She pulled down the plastic window shade and covered the window. “There, just don't look out. That should take care of the bad dreams.”

One of the Secret Service agents came in and motioned to the seat across the aisle from Trump. “Mind if I stretch out here for a while? I've been up for 40 hours and all they do is talk in the back of the plane.”

“Sure, go ahead”, Donald was rattled and happy to have another human close by.

Donald noticed the gun on the hip of the Secret Service agents, a Glock in a belt holster. In minutes the agent began to breath in a deep and regular way showing he was asleep. Donald tried to sleep as well, telling himself he was just being silly. But no sleep came.

After about 20 minutes, Donald couldn't resist and raised the shade on the cabin window. The woman was there! Her face inches from the outside glass. Her eyes boring into Trumps. Trump recognized her. It was Hillary Clinton! This time Trump was too transfixed to start or gasp. He could only stare. Hillary stepped back from the window, raised her arms and was again blow upwards and back towards the rear of the plane.

Hillary returned in less than a minute and again seated herself on the engine nacelle. She opened the hatch and again began to poke about in the interior of the engine. She turned and smiled at Trump.

Trump reached across the aisle and began to violently shake the Secret Service agent.

“Quick, come look at this!” Trump shouted, pointing to the window.

The agent sleepily rose from the his seat, leaned over Trump and looked out the window.

“Look at what?” He asked.

Trump followed his gaze and saw that there was again nothing on the wing.

“Oh nothing”, replied Trump. “I thought I saw something weird, but it's gone now.”

“UFO's are like that”, said the agent, in a slightly exasperated tone, as he settled back into his seat.

Trump again pulled down the window shade. He tried to sleep, but he couldn't stop wondering what Hillary was doing to the engines of the aircraft. After about a half an hour, Trump opened the shade. Hillary was on the engine nacelle poking about in the engine. A small, white hot flame was now coming from inside the hatch. Hillary turned, made eye contact and then floated away. The hatch remained open this time though, with the white hot flame, beat by the air stream, scoring the paint on the nacelle.

Hillary was sabotaging the engines! She was probably working on the other side as well. God knows what she was doing to the rest of the plane. Trump felt he had to take action. As carefully as he could, he leaned across the aisle and unsnapped the strap holding the agents gun in the holster. He then carefully withdrew the gun. The agent grunted and shifted position, but remained asleep.

Trump studied the emergency exit instructions on his window and partially operated the levers that opened it. Not enough to open the window, but to get the feel of it. He then waited for Hillary.

He didn't wait long. About ten minutes later Hillary floated down onto the wing and began to make her way down to the engine. Trump threw the lever on the emergency exit. There was an explosion as the window was sucked away and Trump was pulled out the open emergency exit by the screaming air. He caught himself with his knees on the frame or the window. His body outside the plane and pounded by the rushing air. He squinted and saw Hillary in front of him and opened fire. He emptied the Glock.

The plane landed at the first landfall. Los Angeles. A heavily sedated Trump on a stretcher was carried down the stairs by two medics. Though drugged, Trump was still hazily awake. He wondered what had happened to him. Then, glancing up, he saw the outboard engine on his side of the plane. And snagged on a carelessly open engine hatch were the torn remains of a white pantsuit.

Standing beneath the engine was a man in a tan suit and skinny black neck tie. He began speaking in a calm, dead pan voice: “Imagine if you will, an American President, the holder of the highest office in the land. Who should have been admired by the nation, but who, for many reasons was seen as unstable and unpredictable. A man who feels he is now going to a hospital for much needed rest. A man seeking rejuvenation that will enable him to again take up his office. But what he doesn't realize is that he is a man who has just crossed over into …. The Twilight Zone.”

“Nah, he's going to the nut house”, said one of the stretcher carriers.

Reviews

[Hanry01]

Your article is so exciting. It attracts me. I will share it to my friends. I hope that you can release more articles.
spacebar clicker

[SleeplessVolcano]

Great story! Somehow I'm thinking that the punchline at the end could have been a bit more, mmmm, "outside of the box"......as if merely going to the hospital is quite a convenient end for the Big Mac Monster....:P

[Vivian Fisk]

Imagining Hillary's thunder thighs landing as part of her "all fours," over and over. Good thing she wears pants suits. Not pretty. Poor sec'y of state....

I happen to be sitting here while you're uploading new things. I may be sitting here awhile as it's getting to be fun.

[genocide]

i don't like him being president and I don't like the whole situation I'm very mad about Donald trump

[Miss Fedelm]

Thanks for reading.