Archangel Michael Visits Donald Trump

( Enjoy the tale. And you make the call.)

The Donald was sitting at his desk in the Oval Office with Stephen Miller and Pam Bondi sitting in front of him. They were brainstorming new sadistic ideas they could inflict upon the People of the United States.

The door opened and a well-dressed, handsome man entered and asked, “May I have the room?”

Trump barked, “Who are you? And how did you get in here?”

“Oh, please excuse my poor manners, I’m the Archangel Michael and I’ve come to have a short chat with you. Would you two be so kind to give us some privacy?” He answered.

Suddenly, as if in a trance, Miller and Bondi rose and made their way out of the Oval Office. Pam’s crucifix suddenly vanishing. “I’ll be meeting with each one of you soon”.

Once they were out of the room, the office door closed and locked itself.

“Let’s start again, I am the Archangel Michael, and my Boss has sent me here to have a serious sit-down with you. May I have a seat?” asked the angel.

“I have no idea who you are, but you should go before security drags you out in handcuffs.” said Trump. He reached for the phone, only to have it fly across the room away from him.

Trump stood with his mouth open and in a bit of shock.

“So may we get started?”, the visitor asked extending his hand.

“Who are you?” asked Trump who has now moved to safety behind his chair.

“The Archangel Michael”

“Fuck you, who the hell are you man?” Trump demanded, fearing this was a hitman sent to seek revenge for some scam he had pulled.

Michael continued, “Please, you may want to have a seat.” Trump sat himself back in the presidential chair, “Maybe this will help?”

Before his eyes Trump witnessed this well-dressed man morph into his angelic self spreading his wings wide open.

Trump’s face changed into that of a pale frightened man. Sheepishly he asked, “What do you want?”

Having made his point, Michael morphed back into the well-dressed, handsome man. “May I take a seat?”

The petrified man-who-would-be-king, nodded his frozen face.

“Relax, you’re a tough guy with nothing to fear for now.” Michael began.“My Boss sent me here to have a sit-down. He’s given me the job of delivering you a message.”

“A message?” asked the horrified Trump. “How do I address you?”

“Mick will do. I need you to be in a receptive mood before I pass this message on to you.”, the angel quietly responded.

“Sure MMMMick, I’m all ears. PPPlease continue.” Donnie stammered.

“Okay, I’ll be brief. The Boss was reviewing the Book of Life and stumbled upon your chapter. He quipped to us that he hadn’t seen a reprobate as vile as you in quite a while.” Mick continued, “The American people actually placed this traitorous, egotistical, sociopathic, narcissistic, convicted felon in the White House? Mercy, we’ve got a big problem down there in the United States. They actually chose this creep to be their leader? Have any of you read his chapter?”

We bowed our heads and nodded.

We told the Boss, in view of your age, health and number of heartbeats remaining, we should do a preliminary balancing of the scales, and it sure looked like a loser was headed to the fire down below.

The Boss continued, “For real, this guy is truly an embarrassment to creation, but he is the President of the United States and the alleged most powerful man on Earth. I have decided to give him a gift, a chance to change his eternal fate. If he chooses to leave the Darkness and enter the Light and start spreading Love across the Globe and become a benevolent man, I believe I will grant him access to the Heavenly Kingdom. Mick, go have a sit-down with this little shit and deliver him my offer.”

“So Donald, here I am delivering my Boss’s offer. If you reverse all the heinous acts you are inflicting upon humanity and create a benevolent peaceful world, He will allow you entry through the Pearly Gates and allow you to walk on the golden streets of Heaven for eternity. He knows you’re big on gold and blondes and that there isn’t any gold where you’re headed, and no blondes.” explained Michael. “The choice is yours. He’s given you till tomorrow morning. I’ve delivered his message and now I’ve got to get back to vanquishing Evil.”

And with that the Archangel Michael returned to his angelic body and vanished.

Trump sat pale and frozen in his chair.

An aide entered to ask if he wanted Burger King or KFC for lunch and immediately reacted to a version of Trump she had never seen, a pale, crumbling, man in obliterating shock.

She asked, “Mr. President, are you okay. Maybe you should to go upstairs for a nap? By your look at the moment, I’m thinking this is a Whopper with Fries kinda day.” With that she left the room with a wrinkled brow and very confused.

Trump gathered himself, got up on his shaky legs and headed to the Presidential quarters, jumped in his bed, pulled the sheets over his head and remained in a fetal position for the remainder of the day.

He finally got out of his bed and ate the cold Whopper and Fries and drank his now warm Diet Coke placed on a tray for him in his room. He couldn’t taste a thing.

He shook his head and spent the evening watching all the Networks and checked his ratings for the day. The cold fast food didn’t settle well with him, and feeling bloated and exhausted, he returned to bed and soon fell asleep.

As he entered a very deep sleep, strange images began dancing in his head, finally landing him in a dark cave with fires flaring all around him and strange little red beings with pitch forks in hand dancing around him.

As he stood trying to make sense of all this, a nude guest with a limp entered his cave and introduced himself, “Hello, it’s me your mentor Adolph Hitler. Welcome, we’ve been expecting you.”

“Huh?”, stumbled out of his mouth.

Hitler went on, “Oh stop, you’ll get accustomed to this place in no time. Give it a couple days. No blondes here, but the bald women swimming in the pool of fire are pretty hot, and I’m finding that I’m not masturbating as much anymore. Well, when you’re ready, come join Mussolini, Pol Pot, Chairman Mao and me at the pool for a couple mugs of devil’s brew. Best I’ve ever tasted.”

Hitler left, and a big imposing monster of a Demon entered the cave. “Hello, I’m Scratch, and I will be your personal demon to insure that each day is more horrid than the last. Hope you’re into pain, cause they send me to torture the VIPs. Oh, you won’t need clothes here.” Suddenly Donald found himself completely naked hopping around on the burning floor. Scratch went on with a devilish grin, “Oh, you’ll get used to all the fire and brimstone in a bit. Now bend over and let one of the little demons ram a fiery pitch fork up your ass. Relax, you’ll learn to love it.”

Trump awoke in a pure panic and jumped out of his bed. Thankfully the floor wasn’t burning. He reassured himself that it was all a terrible dream.

He found himself searching for a copy of his Lee Greenwood Bible. Awe, there it is. He picked it up only to realize it was his autographed copy of Mein Kampf. He finally found it on a side table with a glass of water sitting on top of it.

He grabbed his Bible and fell to his knees. He opened it randomly, only to find the pages were upside down, and as he tried to bring them right side up, the pages returned to their upside down position. He began feeling faint.

He turned and headed back to the security of his bed, only to be blocked by the Archangel Michael standing between him and his bed. This time there was no suit, just the magnificence of his angelic body with his wings spread wide. “Not a pretty picture, eh? I saw your dream. I wouldn’t want to be you. Have you made your decision to become an Agent of Love and a new Bodhisattva to serve your planet?”

Trump just stood there frozen in fear.

“Well, I did give you till the morning to decide. Don’t mean to pressure you, but you should see the odds board up there. It’s changing at a rate, like I’ve never seen before.”, and with that Mick vanished.

Trump was awake for the remainder of the night, too shook to even text another stream of consciousness batch of garbage.

Morning came and the Archangel Michael made his promised return asking “Well?”

Now readers, this is where you come in. I’m leaving his answer to you. I’m giving you a couple days to voice your thoughts.

Does he choose to burn in Hell, or decide to repent for his countless sins and become a true Savior of the World.

I’m looking forward to reading your decisions. Take the weekend. I'll share the results with you next week.

His choice is left to you.