Chump Country: How Ronald Chump Got Elected President

By Maryem Muradi

Born in a well to do family that owned a successful real estate business, Ronald Chump grows up loving wealth, power, and everything else that comes along with it. He went to the best schools and used his father’s money to make more money. Being a narcissist, Chump had honed the skills of self-marketing, and his love of self was evident in the fact that he named his estates after himself! Life is going well for him. He has money, a beautiful former supermodel wife who is 30 years younger than him, and a smart daughter who is married to a Democrat. But he wants more. His dream is to become the President of the United States of America!

In 2011, Chump meets Mr. Dung of Semst & Dung Bank, one of the largest investment banks of the nation. Dung suggests that Chump should run for New York State Senate and that he will support him. Unwilling to give up his reality TV career and million dollar income, Chump feels unsure about saying yes. By 2012, Chump warms up to the idea of running for president. However, after a poll reveals that he is unlikely to win that year, he backs out. Finally in 2015, Chump gears up to achieve long coveted position. He hires a big campaign firm, yells his trademark slogan, and presents his racist plans to “make America strong again”. Does he win? Does he succeed to gain the power he has always cherished? Read on to find out!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Maryem Muradi
• Release date: Aug 17, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370298792

Maryem Muradi

Some might say Maryem Muradi’s life has been as dramatic as the characters in her fiction. At three years old she escaped the Soviet Afghan War to emigrate to America, where the young Muslim would grow up to fall in love with the land of the free. But liberty only lasted so long. Muradi was in her first year of law school when two planes crashed into the World Trade Center, and overnight something as simple as a hijab became a radical political statement. Now a law school dropout struggling with debt, Muradi realized her American dream was spiraling into a nightmare and turned to the one pleasure that had always sustained her: books. Between the pages of a thousand novels she found courage, truth and even freedom; a word that had grown tarnished upon the lips of politicians.By the time Donald Trump announced he was running for president, Muradi had broken through countless hurdles to emerge a successful attorney with a private practice. America had given her everything she had—and almost killed her in the process, so who better to write about the red, white and blue than a female, Muslim-American lawyer? Chump Country is a satirical take on the most outrageous figure in modern history suddenly finding himself the leader of the free world. But will Donald’s neon orange charm win over his detractors, or is chaos about to break out on Hair Force One?

Book preview

PROLOGUE

PROLOGUE

April 13, 2020

His shoes rested on the polished resolute desk beside a mug of dark, sweet Colombian coffee. The President indulged himself with personal reflection. This was an unusual exercise for a man of his disposition. Ronald Chump had always considered himself as a man of action. Some actions bring unexpected results. It was getting harder to separate his personal decisions from those with the real power. His thoughts crowded one another for his attention.

How could Alan and those behind him possibly get away with this? He hesitated. Maybe that’s not the right question. Then, in growing frustration, he interrogated himself aloud. How could I have been so blind?

Even though he was alone, he felt embarrassed.

Somewhere deep inside, a voice announced, Only the weak talk to themselves. Ronald immediately answered the now familiar voice, I am not weak! While still seated in his chair, he rolled his shoulders backwards as if getting ready for another round of delivering his speeches. I am strong, the strongest man to ever hold this office!

Almost nine (9) years ago, Alan was the one to suggest that he run for the less powerful position. That’s when Chump first realized; No, I belong to the White House. I’m what the people need. I’m the one who can make America strong again.

Ronald Chump had watched the way his country had changed in the past decades. He had memories of America which are very different from the one today. At school, he watched American soldiers crushing the forces of evil in Europe and Asia. America had come from behind to win the space race and put a man on the moon. America had been the strongest nation on the face of the earth — and the best one too. Every time a disaster struck, the whole world looked to the United States to make everything right. Those days were gone, but Chump had felt sure he could bring them back. At least that was how he felt at first.

His nostrils flared with indignation as he snarled to himself, they laughed at me, all of them laughed at me when I announced that I was running for President.

Many of the big shots said they would never vote for me. All the Republican power players stated that they would rather vote for Harriett than me. Maybe they should have. Maybe… I’m not sure, but maybe it would have been better if they had.

From his earliest years, Ronald felt that he was destined to be at the top of the human pyramid. He had been driven by the passion for accumulating wealth and fame. With a million-dollar kickstart from his father, his bankroll grew quickly. Sure, the critics complained about some of his deals, but they were just a bunch of losers. Bankruptcy was just a business strategy — legal and sometimes very profitable.

Over these past weeks, Ronald had developed a habit of speaking to himself under his breath. This time, he grumbled, Not long ago, I thought I could convert my past successes into real power. I thought being President would make me the most powerful man on earth. That’s what I’d always heard, but it’s just a bag of shit.

He looked back at what he wanted in the beginning. When the campaign began, it wasn’t just a dream. He wanted the original America, the one he saw on a black and white television when he was a boy. It isn’t politically correct to say it, but he wanted a white America where the men were strong, and the women weren’t so pushy.

That America wouldn’t struggle with unintelligent problems like; which restrooms people should be using or whether two men could get married. How could it be politically incorrect to say what everyone else was already thinking?

He summarized his decision; everybody knows I’m the only one who can make America the strongest Nation again. Some of the spineless politicians don’t want us to be on top anymore.

In 2015, during those early days of the campaign, things had been so simple. Even without the polls, Chump knew exactly what the people wanted. He wanted the same things A country that favored people like him and kept the murderers and rapists out. None of the so-called leaders and strategists could believe what they were hearing. Some dismissed his ideas as nonsense, and some called him a modern Hitler. What they had to say didn't matter. He kept surging past them in the polls. Even more, he was winning primaries. One by one, the big-name candidates fell by the wayside.

Every time an opponent got any attention in the news cycle, all he had to do was jump on Facebook or Twitter. Nasty Ned and Mean Mario didn’t have a chance. They were spending money faster than they could raise it. They still couldn’t get half the interviews he got on Coxx News. Jed Boost’s massive war chest wasn’t working for him.

His internal dialogue continued. Alan agreed with me that any news is good news. Even Jeremy Saw knew I was right. Reporters tell everyone that I’m controversial when I say things. They are so out of touch that they don't know I am only saying what is obvious. Having these idiots thinking I am controversial put me in the White House.

Although he would never publicly admit it, Ronald was ashamed of some parts of the campaign. I have always been proud of my abilities to negotiate significant business deals. But, they blindsided me. I have complained about the system being rigged. I never guessed that someone was pulling the strings to put me in office.

I thought all those ideas were my own. I thought they were mine, I really did. They were con artists working for themselves. All I wanted was to make America strong again.

I guess I should be thankful for all the haters and protesters at my rallies. They kept me in the news even when nothing was happening. They proved my point by waiving all those Mexican flags. Regular American people don’t want trash like that.

Until after the election, I had no idea who was rigging the game to get Harriet nominated as the Democrat. Let’s face it. She never was any good as a campaigner. Probably any other Democrat could’ve done better, but the kingmakers didn’t want a Democrat this time around.

He paused to reach for the mug of coffee, but it was cold. There was more on the carafe across the room, but he didn't want it that much.

I thought all those nasty TV people wanted to make themselves famous by putting me down. I thought Meg Shelley would be on my side until that debate when she stabbed me in the back. She just wanted to make me look bad. What did I ever do to that woman?

After the inauguration, she told me what happened during an interview. She told me about the note. Without that unsigned note, she wouldn't have had those jokes about women on her mind. Who sent her that note? Not someone trying to tear me down. It was someone trying to make me President. It was someone who understood how to turn any news into good news.

Someone knocked at the door, so he answered, Yes, Come in.

Why do so many Presidents think it's such a big deal to keep their door open so much of the time? How do they ever get anything done that way?

The housekeeper entered with an armload of newspapers. He stopped her with, No, Sarah, that won’t be necessary. With a furloughed brow, she started, But, Mr. President…

Never mind, Sarah. Just throw them on the chair. Maybe I’ll get to them later, the President responded dismissively.

She shook her head slowly as she left the room and closed the door.

For just a moment, he tried to nap, but the thoughts continued to crowd their way forward.

Some of the political gurus always said I wasn’t specific enough about my ideas. They just wanted long, boring speeches like Jed Boost did. He has so little energy that he put everyone to sleep. I know how to communicate with people. Real Americans know what I meant when I said, ‘Less Muslims, Less Murder’. After all, it wasn’t good Presbyterians who flew airplanes into the Twin Towers.

That nightclub massacre put Muslims, gays, and me at the center of the news cycle. Every major news outlet in the world, especially those in Muslim countries, put Ronald Chump’s latest quotes or tweets somewhere on the first page. The greater the outrage from Muslim leaders inside the United States, the more he increased his lead over Harriet Simpleton.

"Naturally, the Kenyan in the White House took it as another occasion to support taking away everyone’s guns. Between him and Harriet, I don’t know which one is worst. They both want to deprive us of our Second Amendment rights. Sure, they say they want to keep guns out of the hands of crazy people, but they think everyone with a gun is insane."

Ronald called upstairs for Amada. Maybe she'd like to get out of here and go to a concert this evening. I know it isn't on the schedule, but I'm a little sick of having my every move planned by someone else. Then, he remembered that Ivy and Earl had gone to New York for the weekend. The White House had become a disappointment for her too.

With his hand still extended towards the phone, it rang. He smiled at the sound of Ivy’s soft and comforting voice. She asked, Dad are you okay? You haven’t contacted me about what you want me to say during your introduction tomorrow. You’ll win another term anyway, but I want to make you proud.

You always make me proud, Ivy. Don’t worry about it. Don’t even waste time preparing what to say. Do share your heart, and you’ll be wonderful. Goodbye, Baby Girl. President Chump paused another second, realizing that he hadn’t said, Good night.

His eyes narrowed as he focused on the Glock 17L at the corner of his desk. He had never used this gift from Ron Junior, but its magazine was loaded. Taking a deep breath, he rested the Glock on his chest and closed his eyes.

…Presidents make big decisions.

CHAPTER ONE

CHUMP STEPS IN DUNG

Early 2011

I

The door to the office, heavy and sturdy as any door in a multi-million-dollar estate, clicked shut behind the two men.

Ronald helped himself to a generous cup of dark roast Colombian coffee from the stainless steel carafe in his office. He eyed the man with whom he had just finished dinner, Mr. Dung, and decided to pour him a mug, though he added a splash of creamer and a small spoonful of pure sugar. Mr. Dung did not appear to be a man who would take his coffee strong and black as Ronald did. He handed Mr. Dung the hand-painted mug, taking a small amount of delight in how much darker his own cup appeared with its manly black coffee.

I imagine you’re wondering why I’ve requested this meeting with you tonight.

Well, we weren’t exactly friends before this evening, no, Ronald answered bluntly.

I have a proposition to make, one that I think you’ll find intriguing. I hope you’ll keep an open mind to it.

What is it that you want, Mr. Dung? Are you trying to ask me to make another large investment? It doesn’t seem like something you would normally be so secretive about.

No, something much different. I was actually wondering if you had ever considered the possibility of running for political office, Mr. Dung replied, trying to sound cool and calm. Specifically, if you had ever considered running for the position of United States Senator from New York.

Me? Run for senator?

I can think of no better candidate.

Ronald swirled his coffee around within his mug, almost wishing he had added creamer for the sole excuse of needing something to stir to distract himself, to buy some time. This meeting hadn’t held much promise before. In fact, he’d been a little uncertain about the real reason behind the meeting. Lurking in the shadows, he assumed that it would come out sooner or later, but he hadn’t expected to see it before he had even had time to finish his after-dinner coffee and perhaps a little biscotti.

Think about it, Ronald. I would back you, one hundred percent. We would be in this together, start to finish.

The wheedling voice of his friend, Mr. Dung from Semst and Dung Bank, was beginning to grate on his nerves. Who was he to come into his house, propose a lofty plan that would potentially cost millions, and expect that he would just jump on board?

I have responsibilities! Look around you – this office, this mansion we’re meeting in. Do you think it was all just handed to me? If – and it’s a pretty big if – I decided to join you on this crazy crusade for the Senate, have you even considered how much money I would lose?

I know that we’ve seen how savvy you are with your investments, your marketing. Everyone in the world knows exactly who you are because of the work you’ve done to brand yourself. The people are looking for a leader that they can relate to. And you’re the one we want.

Mr. Dung swallowed hard, trying not to show his own nerves in light of the situation at hand. A lot was riding on his ability to convince Ronald Chump that he had what it would take to run for the Senate.

There’s a world full of people out there right now that want a voice, a voice that is powerful and persuasive. Someone who isn’t afraid to say all of the things they’ve been thinking for years, decades even. They want someone who is fearless, who doesn’t pander to the wishy-washy statements of the rest of the world. They want to see a real conservative, Mr. Dung tried again, seeing the stony face that Ronald set.

A real conservative?

A real conservative. Look at the world around us. Does this America represent the Right? Is this what you think the people really want?

Ronald mulled over Mr. Dung’s statement in his mind. For years, he had himself been dissatisfied with the wishy-washy statements made by politicians. But could he do it better?

Of course he could. Ronald had always had a very high opinion of himself.

Ronald eyed the man sitting across from him. His custom-made suit was crafted of the finest material, perfectly pressed and fitted in a way that only those with money could afford.

His guest stared him in the eye with a burning intensity, eager to make it clear how serious he was about this proposition. His shoulders were tense and his knuckles turned white as he gripped his own mug, clearly nervous about the outcome of this meeting.

The New York State Senate needs you, Ronald. Someone needs to speak up on behalf of the people. We run one of the largest investment banks in America. We have power, we have money, we have influence that we can throw behind your campaign. If anyone can do this, you can.

I’m sure that I could do it, Ronald began, his easy confidence barreling