Arrr! 'Tis a tale o' a scallywag's plot fer Trump, but methinks it's naught but a jest!
2024-09-16
Arrr, matey! The secret sea dogs let fly at a scallywag with a blunderbuss, hidin’ among the brambles near the Trump treasure grounds in Florida! But lo and behold, the former captain, Trump, sailed through unscathed! A right merry farce on the high seas of golf, 'tis!
Avast ye, mateys! Gather ‘round and lend yer ears to a tale most peculiar from the shores of Florida! A ruckus broke the tranquil air near a fine golf course, owned by none other than the notorious Donald J. Trump, a scallywag of a president past. It seems a knave, armed to the teeth with a rifle, took to the underbrush, thinkin’ he could play a game of hide and seek with the Secret Service! Aye, ‘tis no jest!With the stealth of a cat on a hot tin roof, the agents sprang into action, lettin' loose a volley of shots, like a cannonade in the heat of battle! But fear not, for the former captain of the ship known as the Oval Office, the orange-haired buccaneer himself, was as safe as a treasure chest guarded by a hundred mermaids. Not a scratch on him!
Oh, what a merry sight it must’ve been, watching those agents scurry like frightened crabs, all while our dear Trump remained unscathed! So raise a tankard to the absurdity of it all—‘tis a reminder that in this wild world, danger lurks in the bushes, but fortune favors the bold, and sometimes, the golf clubs be mightier than the rifle! Arrr!