Chapter 1 — How her right to rule was stolen

The creature Rodham had once believed herself to be in possession of a secret treasure that had been her birthright from long ago: the right to rule them all. It was the one thing she loved, her “precious”, and she had thought of it and talked about it often, even when it was not with her.

And yet just at the moment when she believed it to be within her grasp, it had been denied her. For there was more than one power at work. Just as she put out her hand to touch it; just as she could almost feel it and even begin to taste it, it was picked up by the most unlikely person imaginable: Trump from the Tower! She had lost it, it was gone, and as the realisation dawned on her, her screech could be heard throughout the land: “Thief, thief! Trump! We hates it for ever!”

The loss of her precious was too much for Rodham to bear, and it devoured her. She lifted her head, blinked at reality, and quickly shut her eyes:

“We hate it,” she hissed. “Nassty, nassty shivery reality. It wronged us, Precious – it did us great injustice and it hurts our poor ego.”

After that she spent a time wandering in loneliness, weeping a little for the hardness of the world, and going about muttering to herself about the unfairness of it all. She even disappeared into the woods, giving herself to turning rocks, looking for someone or something to blame for her loss:

“Where iss it, where iss it: my Precious, my Precious? It’s ours, it is, and we wants it. The thieves, the thieves, the filthy little thieves. Where are they with my Precious? Curse them! We hates them.”

And so when she emerged from the woods, after nearly a year far from the limelight, she did so with a long list of those she blamed for the loss of her birthright:

“It was the Russians, Precious. And Putin. Tricksy they are. They stole it from us, they did, and we wants it back. And Comey. And the FBI. Why Precious? Why were they so nassty to poor little Rodham.”

With time, the list grew even longer:

“Republicans. Democrats. Assange. Wikileaks. Filthy little conspirators. Misogyny. Misogynists. Nassty people. Hates poor Rodham they do. Hacking. Glass ceilings. Sexism. Sexists. Horrible sexists. And racists. Lots of racists, Precious. And Deplorables in their nassty little baskets. Always against us they are. We hates them. Rodham, Rodham.”

And so instead of accepting that people do lose elections, and rather than asking whether her lies, corruption and psychopathic tendencies may just possibly have been a turn off, the creature Rodham was driven mad with looking for scapegoats for her own failings.

But not content with muttering to herself, she decided to drive everyone else mad as well by writing a book and going on talk shows to tell everyone how thieves had taken what belonged to her — the right to rule them all:

“We’ve been reflecting, yess, reflecting. Taking walks in big woods. But we won’t go back, no, no! We must now get back what is ours. Yess we musst, nice media. We likes nice media. Media is nice to us, it is. But Baskets of Deplorables, and Putin and Trump and Comey and Wikileaks and bigots and extremists and sexists and glass ceilings hates us. They took the Precious from us, but we musst resist them. Yess we musst. We are the resisstance, Rodham, Rodham.”

Coming soon:

Chapter 2 — How Trump of the Tower stole the Precious

Chapter 3 — How tricksy Russians helped Trump of the Tower to steal the Precious

Chapter 4 — How nassty misogynists and sexists worked with the Russians to help Trump of the Tower steal the Precious

And so on and so on, ad infinitum, ad nauseum.

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