A Kangaroo
Reflects on Donald Trump and The Threat to
Animals
by Mir-Yashar
Seyedbagheri
So I got a
call from Trump. All right, I’m lying mate.
The Prime Minister called me after HE talked to
Trump about refugees and illegals. We kangaroos
don’t get the best cell phone coverage, but
that’s beside the point.
Apparently, we’ve
been branded terrorists. And illegals. Pretty
clever, mate. That’s why we have pouches. It
isn’t to transport our children, or to give
Hugh Jackman rides to filming sites whenever he’s
in the Outback. It’s to smuggle explosives.
And drugs for that matter.
And Trump
found out.
There goes my
scheme. I’ve always wanted to visit the
United States. Just bounce across the nation, see
the sights, like a sort of kangaroo Jack Kerouac.
I like that. That’s what you can call me.
Kangaroo Kerouac. But apparently we’re a
threat. Right up there with the Muslims and the
Mexicans.
We can also
jump pretty high. Isn’t that a sure sign of
a drug dealer? We can scale your wall, Mr. Trump.
You build a thirteen-foot wall, mate, we’ll
jump over it. Or better yet, we’ll dig a
tunnel.
But that ain’t
happening mate. Thanks to your vetting process,
coming is impossible. I mean what do you ask a
kangaroo? It’s not like we have Social
Security cards or surnames. Or health care.
But I could
use a serving of that Obamacare for my nephew. We’ll
call him Barry. Yes, after your allegedly Kenyan
ex-president. We kangaroos need to stay in good
health so we can smuggle drugs and mess up the
world with our Marsupial Lives Matter movement.
Marsupial supremacy, mate. We need to eat and
consume anything in our path.
I’d eat
you Mr. Trump, except I understand you taste like
chicken. Orange chicken. Don’t get me wrong,
mate. Chickens are decent people. But you give
chickens a bad name.
But enough
about the chickens. I’m sure you’ll be
cracking down on them soon. Chik-Fil-As will be
raided by the day, as you look for illegal
chickens. After us kangaroos. And no doubt
squirrels will be next. Operation Nutcracker.
But like I
said, back to my story. You can call me Kangaroo
Kerouac. But I don’t have a real name in
that sense. So I must be dangerous. Because who
are you without a name? You must be hiding
something.
I love America.
But what the heck mates? I can’t count on
you. I can’t even come in and dine on your
fine cuisine. So all I can do is march with my
fellow marsupials. I’ll even befriend a
koala bear, even though we don’t have the
best history. A koala ran off with my wife. But I
don’t want to see the koala deported.
But to heck
with that. We’ll protest the Prime Minister.
We’ll protest this injustice to kangaroos.
An injustice to kangaroos anywhere is an
injustice to species everywhere. The enemy of my
enemy of my enemy is my friend.
You don’t
mess with kangaroos.
Make
Marsupials Great Again.
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