Trump’s Estranged Uncle Resurfaces, Wants In On White House Windfall
Jack Trump, who vanished in 1992, says nephew “owes me” — angles for administration post and 20% of Russian payoffs
The estranged uncle of Donald Trump has returned to the United States with demands for an administration position and a substantial cut of the lucrative business dealings associated with his nephew’s presidency.
Jack Trump, the younger brother of the president’s late father, Fred, disappeared in August of 1992 under suspicions that he embezzled millions of dollars from a marina construction project in Staten Island that he was managing. He had not been seen again until he walked through the doors of Trump Tower in New York on Thursday afternoon. It is believed he has been hiding under an assumed name, managing a marina on the remote Fiji Islands.
“As an elder blood relative of the president’s, I expect the same benefits afforded any loyal member of our family,” said the long-forgotten uncle, who spoke to reporters in the lobby of his nephew’s eponymous building.
Asked where he has been living for the past 36 years, Jack Trump responded, “It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that my nephew is now the most powerful man on the planet and he owes me both a pardon and an important position in his administration, believe me.”
The elder Trump added that he was as surprised as anyone to learn that his nephew had become president. “The idea of little Donnie running for president, much less winning, is just so fucking absurd to anyone who knew him as a child,” said Uncle Trump. “I mean the kid was a thug even then — why do you think they sent him off to military school…because of his brains? Hell, no, it was to slap some sense into the little shit, believe me.”
The elder Trump said that on the remote island where he was living, he rarely received news of the outside world. But about a month ago, he found a November 2016 copy of the Daily Telegraph propping up the leg of a table in a beachside cafe. “I couldn’t believe my fucking eyes when I read that headline, ‘Trump 45th President.’ I thought I’d eaten some bad urchin or something. How on God’s earth did my cocksucker nephew hoodwink an entire fucking nation into electing him president? I will never know the answer, believe me.”
With most cabinet positions already filled, it was not clear what post Jack Trump thought might be appropriate for him. “Who the fuck knows, who the fuck cares? Make something up for shit’s sake — Secretary of Hot Secretaries? Towel Head Exterminator? Master of Moolies? Just find a nice office for me with a 90” flat screen TV like Donnie has and I’ll be happy, believe me.”
Asked if he’d seen the president or any of his grand nephews or nieces since he’d arrived in America, Uncle Jack responded, “No, I haven’t seen Dipshit Don, Dipshit Don Jr., that fairy Eric, or Princess Ivanka. But they’ll see me, don’t you worry about it. Go ahead, give a call down there to Washington and tell my moron nephew that his Uncle Jack is in the lobby of Trump Tower. I’ve got so much dirt on that fat bastard, this Mueller fella will gladly blow me to get all of it. Then little Donnie will be down on his knees licking my $8000 Testoni loafers begging me not to spill the beans. He’ll offer me the world, maybe even Ivanka, just to keep my mouth shut. Believe me.”
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