For Episode 409 of The Tim Corrimal Show, a parody with apologies to Clement Moore:
“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Trump Flats
All his creatures were stirring, white supremacist rats:
Their hoods were all hung in the hallways with care,
In hopes a white Santa Clause soon would be there;
Trump’s children were nestled all snug in gold beds,
While visions of trust-money danced in their heads;
And Bannon in his robes, and Conway in fake lashes,
Had just finished the last of their media bashes,
When out in the press pool there arose such a clatter,
They crawled from under their rocks to see what was the matter.
Away to the flat screens they flew like a flash,
Flipped on the remote to watch Dana Bash.
The tint of her skin was as white as the snow
Reflecting the panic in the chyron below,
When what to their terrified eyes should appear,
But Trump’s miniature fingers tweeting Christmas Eve fear,
With his trusty old iPhone, so easy and quick,
They knew in a moment it was their orange skinned prick.
More rapid than lawsuits his tweeting storm came,
As he whistled, and shouted, and called them bad names;
Jail Clinton, Chris Cuomo, Katy Tur, that’ll fix her!
Then Tapper, then Maddow, then that ugly Wolf Blitzer!
To the top of Trump Tower! To the Mexican wall!
Now disappear, disappear, disappear all!
As misstatements in a wild tweetstorm do fly,
When they meet with the fact-checkers, continue to lie,
So up to the newsrooms his invectives they flew,
With a lot of misogyny and racism too.
And then, in a twinkling, the news it got worse
Now he was tweet-bashing Miss Universe.
As they covered their eyes and turned down the sound,
Down the escalator Trump came with a bound.
He was dressed in Trump clothes, with a shaggy blond wig,
And a hat made in Mexico, and a tie from Beijing
A bundle of tweets was stuck on his phone,
And he looked like he just passed a kidney stone.
His eyes – how they raged! His tweets would not go!
His cheeks turned bright orange, the iPhone was slow!
His droll little mouth looked like his butt hole
And his multiple chins looked like doughy soft rolls
His stumpy fat fingers kept tapping the screen,
As he yelled, “Tweets are frozen and I’m gonna scream!”
He had a broad ass and a taco bowl belly,
With a tattoo that read, “I hate Megyn Kelly”
He paced and he mocked, a right nasty old elf,
And they cringed when they saw him, in spite of themselves;
But his twitching left eye and his nasty Trump frown,
Soon let them know they better humor this clown;
They spoke not a word, but went straight to their work,
Then gave back the iPhone to the fat orange jerk,
The tweets were all sent, so thumbing his nose,
He went to the exit and up the escalator he rose;
As he entered his penthouse, to the press gave a shout,
And away they all flew to report on the lout.
But they heard him exclaim, ere he slipped into his den,
IF YOU THINK IT’S BAD NOW, WAIT UNTIL I’M SWORN IN!