Satire

How I was hacked by a Russian: an interview with a Trump aide CUSTOM Follow Jan 15, 2017 · 4 min read

Sveta

In light of the recent, albeit unsubstantiated, revelations about President Elect Donald Trump’s… proclivities, as well as in light of his rather fiery remarks at a recent press conference, I feel lied to and torn apart. Did the media really lie to me? I’ve been asking myself lately. Donald Trump didn’t piss on a string of Russian prostitutes?

So I took it upon myself last week to call up a Trump aide and ask her for myself. I couldn’t stand being lied to anymore. And surely someone on the Trump team would take some time out of their day to help out an honest journalist? Well, I was right.

I met with Trump aide Sapozhnikova Svetlana (Sveta) Stepanovna, who flew here to Montreal from Washington, DC. I ordered her a coffee and sat down in a local Starbucks. Much to my surprise, actually, she didn’t touch her coffee at all. When I eventually asked why, she told me Canadian coffee was disgusting.

“My father lives in Montreal twenty years. ‘Beautiful place’ he says to me, ‘but coffee taste like Chernobyl.’

Then I asked her if she’d ever tried it herself.

“No. Chernobyl was absolute disaster I have no zhelaniye to taste. When I was eleven years, we kill orange cat Rukavitsy with twenty-gauge when it grow second row of teeth.”

We talked longer about her childhood and her cat Vitsy, whom had drunk from the pond water, which was strictly forbidden in her home country.

“So you’re not from America?” I asked.

“No. We take plane here when I was fifteen years. I was joyed when I no longer boil the water. And fish — absurd. At home, fish eyes are delicacy. American fish come with two eyes. Two eyes not enough.”

It wasn’t long before we started to talk about America and American politics. I told her I felt lied to by the media, and that I was ready for her to make a case for Trump. So she began,

“Yes of course, Mr. Trump. Very nice man. I work for wife Melania three years as secretary. I know Melania like my own babushka. Very nice woman. Your television and newspapers, even Canada, they lie about Melania and call her mail-order whore and things like this, but they are wrong. You see, Melania is sharp as knife. Like puppetmaster Pivovarov when I was girl.”

“But what about Mr. Trump?” I pushed.

“Again, very nice man. You are told that he is mean man because of what? Because walls? Look, if walls don’t work you freeze in home.”

She had a point. But she still didn’t scratch my itch. I had to start asking the tougher questions.

“Why, then,” I kept pushing, “are we supposed to trust a rich guy? Why is he the savior of the people America desperately needed?”

“Because America made him rich. Now it his turn to make America rich.”

“And the anger,” I pushed even further, “what about the anger. Why is he so angry all the time?”

“Not angry. I tell you this. Mr. Trump is peaceful man, he does very nice things. He loves America. He wants to keep America from the cold. He does many nice things for many people. Last week he gives me golden shower.”

I was at a loss. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The rumors…

“It was very expensive shower. Made in America.”

Never mind.