the | lump

You have a lump in your brain, the doctor said to the president.

Fake news, the president responded.

It’s in fact in your limbic system, Mr President.

Fake! Never heard of a limbic system, the president replied, and off he went.

In his private wanking room in the White House he grabbed a sharp knife and cut the lump out. Quite a big one. Too big for the sink.

A knock on the door. There’s blood on your shirt, the new PA commented. The previous five PAs were all fired because they had fabricated fake like: You smell funny, Mr President!

He sacked the new PA because no way was there blood dripping out of his limbic system onto his shirt. Fake news.

He filled the gap with toilet paper.

Ivana came in and said: There’s red toilet paper at the back of your wonderfully planted hair, master.

You’re faking the news like all the others, he screamed.

Was the president’s limbic system out of order, or maybe even missing?

Missing already when we met, Ivana said to the camera.

The doc, whom the president called in the middle of the night, after a bad dream, apologised: You never had a lump in your brain, and your limbic system is totally intact.

Fucking liar, the president said. But did not sack him.