Trumpopolis 2020 Or: How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Fascism

With Bernie’s recent losses in Florida, North Carolina, Illinois and Ohio, it seems his campaign is at an end. Though Hillary is poised to defeat Trump in the primaries, the possibility of a Trump presidency still looms large. What would a Trump presidency look like? Would it even be that bad? If we look at his campaign's agenda, it is shockingly bare. It includes a wall that will be paid for somehow, an immigration reform that would displace millions in the states and several smaller reforms that will, "Just happen." Despite this, Trump has won the hearts of the Boomer generation, and it may be enough to propel him into the Oval Office. Will Trump literally be Hitler, or will all his hype end up turning into an overall mediocre term? With these points and questions in mind, I present to you a vision of the future. Four years into what turns into the lifelong presidency of our toupeed genius, Trumpopolis 2020 or: How I learned to stop worrying and love Fascism.

The sun struggles to shine through the smog ceiling that seems to have covered the entire Continental United States. Since the history books were re-written to include China's creation of the Global Warming hoax, Glorious T has decided to adopt their environmental standards to compete. As the light begins to hit your face, you open your eyes to a mostly dark living cell. The power has been cut from your living complex ever since the Muslim ratio rose 1.2 percent on your block. Usually on this day, people vote on who should be the next president. In fact, this is the first time there's no election. In the first year of Glorious T's presidency, terrorist attacks rose so high that T declared federal control of news media for national security. In the next two years, the government told us the attacks were getting so bad that Lord T was declaring martial law and temporary full control of the government.

None of this bothers you, though. Instead, you are more concerned that you've been missing work for two days. It's 12 p.m., and you're six hours late for work, again. As you curse the fact that you've been sick for two weeks, you rise from your bed to greet the noon news show. After watching a 20-second video that took a minute and a half to buffer, your face is illuminated with Brilliant T's glowing face. You lean forward in anticipation for the daily word, "I've been hearing a lot about how the water is rising in Florida. Look, the water has always been rising in Florida. I don't see what the problem is. If you didn't want to get wet, you shouldn't have gone to Florida. What can I say, you're an idiot." Tears are streaming down your face: Master T is right, Floridians are morons.

Before you can get to the next segment, you hear a loud bang at your front door. You turn to face the sound, but you're blinded before you look past your shoulder. Before you know it, you're on the ground with a bag over your head, dogs biting your legs. The confusion is a bit overwhelming, but fortunately, an officer informs you through his mask, "Citizen A-5680, you are being detained for scheming against Glorious T." This is the funniest thing you've heard all year. "What a funny misunderstanding, I can't wait to tell dad about this one," you think to yourself still smiling. After a quick drive downtown, you are instantly seated in front of a judge, illuminated with a single foreboding spotlight. He tells you you've been found guilty of conspiring with Islamists and will be sent down to Texas to help build the wall.

While radiant T never actually technically got Mexico to pay for the wall, it still didn't end up costing too much. T introduced a brilliant bill that allows federal prisoners to work on government projects to pay off their sentence. This went nicely in hand with the other bill that requires prisoners to pay for all living expenses while in prison, with contracting options for private prisons. Once you arrive at the wall, you are met with a man in aviators that instructs you to "Get diggin' boy!" You get to work happily, excited to be part of history in the new chapter of America. Before you can even break ground, though, a large pallet of bricks slides off a nearby forklift, crushing you. Workers only momentarily pause before returning back to their jobs on the wall. No one helps because it means paying for your medical bills by taking responsibility for you. The man with aviators leans over to a mustached guard and says, "Hey Bill, you wanna help him on his way?" Mustache nods and walks over to you. The only thing you can think of is how you've never had a McRib.