President Biden Solves the Baby Formula Fiasco (Satire)

Political strategist Anita Dunn marched into the Oval Office this past Friday morning.  “Uncle Joe, the polls are in, and I’ve got news.”

The President, rummaging through his desk, lifted his head towards Dunn and smiled.  “I’m still doing great, right Susan.”

Dunn didn’t miss a beat.  “I thought I’d bring these over right away.  We discussed our situation and I’ve come up with a new strategy that we’ve decided you should implement immediately.” She offered the President a single piece of paper with one sentence typed on it in 48-font.

“Look, Jen, I don’t believe in new strategies.  What need do we have for strategies?  Number one. I like to say things as they come to my mind.  Number Two.  When I sometimes discuss a topic and something manages to come to me somewhere between how I speak about those things and then the other things that’s going around and just get a damn shot already!   And take that mask off, there’s no cameras in here.  Now give me the poll numbers.”

“Do I have to?’

“Yes.  Yes!  It’s Friday and we’re on our way to Scranton.”

At that moment Dr. Biden walked in, suitcases in tow.  She rested her right hand gently on The President’s arm and said reassuringly “Joe – Friday means Delaware.  The beach house.”

The President seemed a bit bewildered, then mused,  “Beach house?  You mean that Camp David?  Oh, the Beach House, the one that Jim bought us.”  Looking back to his advisor the President beckoned, “All right, Neera, hurry up now let’s get the score.  Is it the fourth quarter yet?’

Dunn was hardly flummoxed.  “Well, yes, Mr. President, it is just about the fourth quarter.”

“Great, great, who’s winning?”

“Uncle, it’s not looking any better.  Monmouth’s approval rating has us at 38% and . . .”

The President interrupted, “That’s GREAT, certainly heading in the right direction.  Jill, do you have the car keys I thought they were in the desk inside my Obama bobble head but I can’t find them.”  The President looked up at Dunn.

“What else, Kamala, do you have something else for me?  Ooh, what’s on the paper?”

“I don’t want to upset you, but the poll says 80% of the country thinks we are on the wrong track.”

The President peered deeply in Dunn’s eyes.  ‘Neera, don’t worry.  I’ve unified the country, we’re just getting started.  Now, what’s on the PAPER?”

“Mr. President, this is what we want you to say at all your next stops.  We’ve cleared it with CNN, MSNBC, CBS, ABC, the Post, the Times, and NBC.  In fact, they’ve already started.”

“Great, great.  Jen, you do great work with the press I don’t have to remember anything at all, just give me the list and off I go” The President beamed, while slapping his right knee.  He glanced at the paper Dunn handed him.  “Ultra-MAGA.  What is that?’

“Mr. President, our consultants – well me, really – tell us that we can turn this thing around if we just label every Republican in America an Ultra MAGA.  Our base finds the word MAGA repulsive.  And when you add the word Ultra in front of it – well, they just go bonkers.  So, say these words wherever you go, and our people will turn out in hordes come the November election.”

The President jerked his head up, panicked.  “November election?  Susan, there’s no time for me to do a whistle-stop campaign.”  The President began feverishly opening and closing his desk drawers.  “Did I miss the debates?  Is it Trump again?  I can take that bastard.”

“Sir, no, you’re not running this November . . .”

The President interrupted Dunn.  “What do you mean I told you I wanted eight years!”  The President paused, his eyes rolled upward as he reflected, and then said “Oh, that’s right, I already won re-election – beat the SOB again, whoopee!  Susan, can I have 12 years?”

Dunn ignored the President and pressed on.   “But there’s one thing, Uncle Joe.  Ultra MAGA will bring us victory, your ratings will skyrocket, and you’ll be seen as the greatest President of all time if . . . “

“Neera, everybody knows I’ve got an IQ of 185.”  The President swiveled his chair and turned to the First Lady.  “Told you I’m the smartest President, ever!  Send a note to Corn Pop.”

Slightly perturbed, Dunn tried to get the President back on track.  “Now Mr. President, as I was pointing out, all you’ve got to do to get everything going again is say Ultra MAGA wherever you go, but . . .”

Again interrupting, the President turned back towards Dunn in a moment of sensational awakening, exclaiming “Kamala, I’ve got it now!  Ultraman!  Ultraman!!!  Damn this is exciting!  Are we going to Japan?  Better than Superman!”  The President began singing: “The mark on his chest is a meteor.  In his favorite jet he strikes his enemies.  Here he comes our Ultraman!”

Dunn continued, oblivious to the President’s meanderings.  “But the NIH conducted brain scans on some volunteers and found out that the repulsive reaction to Ultra MAGA only lasts for 60 minutes.”

“Is it Sunday already?  Jill, it’s Sunday, I’ve got to brush my teeth again.  Great show, just saw Mike Wallace interviewing what’s that death guy’s name, Kerkorvian?  A woman should control her own body, you know,” The President smiled.  “It’s just like I told Robert Byrd back in the day” The President said, a teardrop forming in his left eye.  “George Wallace isn’t a bad guy once you get to know him.”

Dunn plowed on.  “They found out if we just get them to swallow a bit of this stuff,” she said, gesturing a tiny vial filled with fluid towards the President, “the revulsion to Ultra MAGA intensifies by 1000 times and lasts four to six months.  Dr. Fauci calls it the Magic Elixir”

The President’s smile flipped into a frown.  “Jesus, Jen, I’ve already taken that Covid stuff seven or eight times.  I just can’t do it anymore.”

Dunn reassured The President, then said, “Well, you’re right about that Mr. President.  The original plan was to put the Magic Elixir in the second booster shot but then we realized that no one would take it. . .”

“Who the hell would!” The President quipped.  “Jill, do you have the keys, we’ve got to get to the Amtrak station before the train leaves?”

“The NIH did some further studies and found out that swallowing only a specific combination of protein, fat and fatty acids, and carbohydrates will make the Magic Elixir effective.”

“Some specific combination of what, where, who?  Come out with it woman!”

Dunn spoke purposefully.  “Well, you see, Mr. President, there’s only one combination of ingredients that makes the Magic Elixir work.  It’s contained in a baby formula known as Simulac.”

The President jumped up from his desk.  “Smack?  Jill, see if you can get Hunter on the phone .  .  .”

Dunn interrupted.  “No Mr. President, Simulac, the baby food formula.”

“Oh, Oh I see.  Jill, belay that order!  Where’s General Milley?”  The President turned back towards Dunn “Then get it, man, I’ll issue an order!  What’s that again, Kamala, the Production Defense what?”

Now it was Dunn’s turn to smile.  “We’ve already taken care of it, Mr. President.  We’ve been buying up all of the Simulac on the market.  Used excess funds from the cancelled border wall.  We’ve been storing it down in Texas where nobody will find it.  It’s being prepared in the form of a milkshake.  We’ve lined up McDonald’s, Burger King, Kentucky Fried Chicken and others to distribute it for free.  All you must do is keep repeating Ultra MAGA whenever a camera is on you.”

The President seemed pleased.  “Milkshake, well that’s fabulous.  Get me one of those large chocolate McDonald’s milkshakes.”

A harsh look came over Dunn’s face.  “Mr. President, no chocolate – it’s racist.”

“Oh, of course.  Racist!  Forgive me!”  Squeezing his thumb and forefinger together the President whispered, “But maybe I can get a small chocolate shake?”

“Sorry sir,” Dunn replied.  “That’s a microaggression.”

The President, joined by Dr. Biden, headed towards the door of the Oval Office.  “OK Neera, great job.  We’re off to Camp David.  Barack’s supposed to meet us.  Jill, you drive.  I’ve got it now, Jen.  It’s kind of like saying abracadabra.”

Dunn waived goodbye to the President and yelled after him, “Remember, Mr. President, Ultra MAGA.”

With that the President and Dr. Biden were gone.  Led away by secret service agents he turned to one of them and said, “You ever seen Ultraman?”

Cast of Characters:
Joe Biden     as     Uncle Joe and The President
Jill Biden      as     Dr. Jill Biden
Anita Dunn as     Anita Dunn, former Senior Advisor to the President and
political strategist
Anita Dunn as     Jenn Psaki, former Assistant to the President and Press
Secretary
Anita Dunn as    Susan Rice, Assistant to the President and Domestic
Policy Advisor
Anita Dunn  as   Neera Tanden, Senior Advisor to the President
Anita Dunn  as   Kamala Harris, Vice President of the United States

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