If Dr. Trump Were Your Surgeon ... It’s a dark and stormy night, and the hospital corridor is eerily illuminated by lightning flashes as Dr. Trump and Dr. McConnell enter a patient’s room and approach the bed of a young woman, Janet. “Once your heart is out,” he explains, “there’ll be new urgency to solve the problem.” Janet’s eyes have grown wide, so Dr. McConnell attempts reassurance: “Anyway, I’ve never found a heart necessary.” “You know, you’re the only doctors who ever said my heart had to come out,” she says. Dr. McConnell looks sadly at Dr. Trump. “My previous cardiologist, Dr. Obama, tweaked my diet and medications, and it was ticking along fine.” “NO, it’s a disaster!” Dr. Trump bellows. “And maybe you should put that scalpel down?” “Don’t you see?” Dr. Trump says, as a thunderclap shakes the hospital. And it’s all their fault.” “It’s the Democrats,” Dr. Trump says, and a flash of lightning captures his eyes rolling crazily. “I think my heart is on my left side, not the right.” “Let me double-check,” Dr. Trump replies, and he hurriedly moves the stethoscope over.
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