“What’s your name?”
“Ouseph Al-Sabbagh.”
“I’m Donald Trump.”
“Yes, I—”
“Is it the hair?”
“It looks more natural on television.”
“Where are you from?”
“Syria.”
“So you’re a Muslim.”
“No, I’m Christian.”
“How do I know that?”
“Half my village was murdered by ISIS.”
“You might be a terrorist pretending to be a refugee. There’s something about your eyes that I don’t like.”
“I haven’t eaten or slept in days.”
“I’m sorry, you’ll have to try some other country. Maybe Texas.”
“I think Syria might be safer.”
“Boy you get all kinds. What’s your name?”
“Ismail Habib.”
“From?”
“Israel.”
“You gotta be Muslim with a name like that.”
“I’m Jewish.”
“You look more Middle Eastern than the last guy.”
“I am Middle Eastern. So what?”
“So you’re not coming in.”
“Mr. Trump, are you familiar with Crimes Against Humanity?”
“Is that that new reality show?”
“No it’s—oh nevermind. Jerusalem suddenly sounds very peaceful to me.”
“Next? Stand up please. Oh, you are standing up. How old are you?”
“Nine.”
“Do you have a name?”
“Mina.”
“And you’re from Iraq?”
“I think so.”
“And you’re a Muslim little girl, aren’t you? Don’t just shake your head, sweetie, I need an answer.”
“I’m Yazidi.”
“That some kind of Islam thing, right? Well, you can’t come here, sweetie. You might grow up to be a terrorist. You don’t know what that is? Guns. Killing. Bang, bang.”
“I’m afraid of guns.”
“I’m not. You should see my collection.”
“Please don’t send me back, mister. Those bad men took me and, and—. Please don’t make me go back there.”
“Now, now. This is a very expensive suit, sweetie, I can’t have it water-spotted. Somebody take this little girl to the return line. Name, sir?”
“Mohammad Mohammad.”
“From?”
“Cleveland.”
“So why are you coming from Istanbul?”
“International human rights conference. I’m a U.S. District Court Judge.”
“You’re Muslim, and this time I’m not listening to any alibis.”
“I am Muslim. Non-practicing. But I’ve been thinking about becoming more observant.”
“Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the bleeding hearts back in Istanbul.”
“Hey, you can’t—I have a full docket tomorrow, I have to pick my robe up at the cleaners!”
“Get him outa here, boys. One less troublemaker. OK. Let’s have the name.”
“Johnny Jones.”
“British passport, Mr. Jones?”
“Righto.”
“Let’s see. You’ve just come from Pakistan.”
“Indeed.”
“With a stopover in Libya.”
“Quite.”
“I trust you had a pleasant holiday.”
“Splendid, actually. Business and pleasure, you know.”
“Wonderful. What business, may I ask?”
“Oh, I’m a group organizer, also an internet strategist. And I do a little munitions acquisition as well.”
“Ah, a man after my own heart. Now, please forgive me, Mr. Jones, but I have to ask this question, purely routine: are you now or have you ever been a person of the Muslim persuasion?”
“Mr. Trump. Do I look like a Muslim?”
“That’s the answer I was looking for! Welcome to the U.S., Mr. Jones.”
“Thank you awfully. Say, I wonder if you might help me. I would love to find the nearest wholesale/retail weapons emporium. Would you by any chance—”
“Mr. Jones, there’s a wonderful outlet not three blocks from my penthouse. Here, take one of my cards. You tell em Donald sent you. They’ll give you 15% off. Plus free delivery within a ten mile radius.”
Chuck Redman
Chuck Redman 
Chuck – This is great! Very scary, but great.
Thanks, Pat. Not so far-fetched, I’m afraid. He might be our next President.
Oh, god, no!!!
What a terrific piece, Chuck! It certainly sounds just like Trump, I must say. Terrifying!
Thanks, Nance. After Tuesday’s debate, he said he had a good time. I think that’s what his campaign is really all about: Donald Trump having a good time. It’s a lark for him, nevermind all the lives he wants to ruin. I hope America wakes up pretty soon.
I’m reading a book about Hitler right now. Sounds eerily similar.
It sure does. This Trump phenomenon is just an ugly, primitive reactionary thing. It’s anger without any rational thought process. Like revenge. Isn’t it hard, Pat, to read a book about such a demon as Hitler?