It’s a little known fact that Trump can be a time-traveler, energized by his own sense of Self—more powerful than Dr. Who.
And remember Key? He wrote the lyrics to the National Anthem.
What happened when he and Trump met?
A lonely Mexican immigrant made his way across the Rio Gran in 1811. He walked northeast towards the Mississippi, got on a large, flat-bottom sailing ship captained by Frenchmen, and eventually reached the Ohio River; he continued until he got to western Pennsylvania, a real wilderness, and then to Philadelphia. But he had to move on to open-minded Baltimore in 1812 because he couldn’t find work among the Quakers, who distrusted Catholics.
The Mexican immigrant found work in a bookshop, learning English as he worked. He grew to love America.
He met Francis Scott Key in the shop and they instantly liked each other. The immigrant was short, so Key called him “little buddy.”
In the middle of the War of 1812, the British went up the Chesapeake Bay towards Baltimore, an important city for shipping and privateering. The little buddy accompanied Key to board a British ship to negotiate the release of an American doctor, William Beanes, and other prisoners.
The immigrant and Key had to be safeguarded on board, so they wouldn’t give away the British battle strategy.
The bombs hit Ft. McHenry with crashing force, bursting in air, making red glares in the skyline. The bombs were so loud they could be heard in Philadelphia.
Key lifted his little buddy on a wooden crate to watch the destruction. Or would the fort hold and not be destroyed?
The Americans indeed heroically stood fast. In the morning, the fort’s captain hoisted the Stars and Stripes. It was an act of defiance. He refused to surrender.
In honor of the immigrant and Key lifting him up on the crate to watch the heroic Americans, he wrote the poem that became the National Anthem.
That’s when Trump appeared with a green flash of light and looked around. “Your Mexican friend needs to be deported! He’s a drain and drone on society! And the first word to your poem’s a disaster!”
“Senor, what’s a drone?” the little buddy asked.
“You’re an idiot! A disaster! It’s a bee that takes without giving back! You’re turning this country into a third-world hellhole!”
“By myself? Already? What’s a third-world?”
“You! You’re a walking, talking crime wave!”
“But my little buddy’s a hard worker. He contributes to society,” Key replied, defending him.
“And you! You’re a disgrace!” Trump retorted to Key. “I could negotiate the release of this primitive doctor in no time! No can work a deal like me!”
“Just a second. Who are and what are you doing on this ship?” Key’s head cleared up.
“Shut up! I’m the Donald!”
“Yeah, I say what people are thinking but they’re too afraid to say it! Look at you! Captive on a British ship! You’re no hero! I like my heroes not to be captured! What can I tell you?”
“I concede I’m no war hero. Those men in the fort are … And say it like it is? Maybe you’re just classless and tactless. Now what about my lyrics?”
“Change the first word, now! No one was talking about immigration before I came along! And no one was talking about a national anthem, either, until now. I’m rich! I’m smart! God, I’m awesome! No, I mean, ‘Myself, I’m awesome!’”
After more verbal wrangling, Francis Scott Key gave in to the surprise assault from the strange visitor. He changed the opening to:
♪ Oh say, can you see …. ♫
Instead of what he had originally written:
♪ Jose, can you see …. ♫