Okay, so Donald Trump gets elected president, right? What’s the first thing a guy like Trump does the second he swears into office? He says, “Tell me all the secrets! I want to know about Area 51. Give me everything on Northwoods, who killed Kennedy — all of it!”
So they start briefing him, right? All these suits and ties just scrambling to give him what he needs. What he craves. There’s no time for “need to know” nonsense, this is tier-one want-to-know! So these guys tell him not only were we visited by aliens in 1955 out in Roswell, but we have been in communication with them ever since!
What does ol’ Donny do? “Get em on the phone — now!” he says.
“The … the aliens, sir?” says one of the guys in a suit, who looks like a total Karen.
Trump just stares back. The answer was clearly, Yes, get the aliens on the phone.
So, a quick intergalactic Zoom call later and Ol’ Big D Donny goes full “Art of the Deal” on these guys, saying, “What do you need? What can we have?”
The aliens are fucking down to clown, so they tell him that they are willing to give us one of their big ships!
But there’s a problem. Our respiratory systems hurt and can even kill these guys, hence why they haven’t been back since ’55. That means they can’t be around too many of us at once, and the more we breathe on and around them, the faster they get sick.
The ol’ Trumperooski has a plan. He’s not going to let anything get in the way of a ‘uge, beautiful, probably-golden-but-if-its-not-he’ll-definitely-make-it-golden space shape.
He tells them, “Don’t worry, we will find a fix, a great fix — a better fix than you’ve ever seen, just ask anybody, they all agree it will be the best fix. When can you be here?”
They aliens are quick to answer: “About three and a half years!”
Boom! Space Force! Donny starts planning ahead, putting together a new branch of service that will be responsible for this ship. But he’s still trying to figure out how to solve the problem of aliens showing up to make the deal and humans not killing them off by all rushing in for selfies and TikTok videos.
China, he thinks … “And a virus!” he shouts, a lightbulb going off. “Let’s get the whole world used to keeping their distance, staying home, and wearing masks! See! Seeeeeeeeee!”
The guys in suits start rushing around. No one is ever sure if they’re ever actually doing anything or just trying to look busy.
So what happens? Last week: the UFO tapes. Trump is grooming us! By releasing these tapes and confirming they are real, we are merely months away from their arrival.
“This ship is huge,” Donny says. “Massive as far as I can guess … it’s got to be somewhere around 13 kilometers wide.”
How did he come to that conclusion? Easy. Horse Math.
“Horses have four legs, right?” says the POTUS-with-the-Mostest. “That’s eight hooves per horse, and each horse roughly takes up nine cubic meters of space when frozen. With the consumption rate of six humans per horse per day, you’re looking at a food storage area over 312,000 square feet — that, I might add, is cooled by the temperature of space.”
It’s an open storage room! Which means you have to have a space suit on to even go in there! And a storage room that size means there will be a crew of more than 24,000 people (by my horse math calculations), hence the administration’s call to have Space Force at 30,000 strong by October!
We are getting a ship! We are getting a massive freaking ship! The master of negotiation has done it again!
Editor’s note: Just in case you haven’t figured it out, this is a satire article and is in no way meant to be an accurate depiction of actual events.