This is the second novella in the series "Donald Trump: Necromancer" It is a work of political parody and therefore protected by the first amendment.
This novella follows the progress of vampire folk singer Phil Ochs and the scientist Magnus along with their allies Aiko the were panda, a druid and an incredibly strong Good Old Boy named Zeus as they attempt to stop the evilest president in history who also happens to be a necromancer.
excerpt:
The necromancer in chief was busy at that moment. He was receiving a call from his mentor and that meant certain procedures. He nodded to one of his secret service zombies who cut the throat of an illegal immigrant they’d gathered up in one of their raids.
The blood poured down her neck and sizzled as it hit the ground. A scarlet shining nimbus coalesced into the air, making it shimmer like looking through smoke. Behind it he could see the necromancer who had taught him magic looking unhappy.
“Apprentice” he hissed in a voice like old bones.
“I’m not your apprentice anymore” the president said.
“Quite right” his former master said in a more robust tone. “But I do feel you owe me some courtesy don’t you, my former student.”
“Of course, sir.” Donald Trump said with far more respect in his tone then he usually paid. Partly because he suspected his mentor could still snuff out his life with a gesture if he was so moved.
“Well so you succeeded. Taking control of the supernatural community in Washington D.C. Not bad” the black robed mage conceded.
“And becoming president” Trump interjected.
The other necromancer sniffed. “I suppose that is something of an accomplishment. Though you did lose the popular vote by 3 million or so wasn’t it?”
“That’s bullshit” shouted the president slamming his fist so hard against his desk it collapsed under his hand. “Only because of all the bussed in illegal immigrants…”
“Come now. Are such theatrics necessary between us?”
“Sorry sir” Trump said brushing the fragments of wood off his expensive black jacket. “Habit. Fine I lost the damn popular vote. But you’re just upset because the damn electoral college worked in my favor rather than the way it worked against you.”
“It was a tie! I lost in the House of representatives, and that worked against me because of that jackal Hamilton!” shouted the mage losing control just for an instant. For that instant, the mask of civility was dropped and the mage appeared and a glance at the malign, even rabid, spirit beneath was visible. This visage terrified most people, but Donald Trump liked it. He recognized that unrestrained hunger. After all he saw it in the giant mirror above his bed every morning.
This novella follows the progress of vampire folk singer Phil Ochs and the scientist Magnus along with their allies Aiko the were panda, a druid and an incredibly strong Good Old Boy named Zeus as they attempt to stop the evilest president in history who also happens to be a necromancer.
excerpt:
The necromancer in chief was busy at that moment. He was receiving a call from his mentor and that meant certain procedures. He nodded to one of his secret service zombies who cut the throat of an illegal immigrant they’d gathered up in one of their raids.
The blood poured down her neck and sizzled as it hit the ground. A scarlet shining nimbus coalesced into the air, making it shimmer like looking through smoke. Behind it he could see the necromancer who had taught him magic looking unhappy.
“Apprentice” he hissed in a voice like old bones.
“I’m not your apprentice anymore” the president said.
“Quite right” his former master said in a more robust tone. “But I do feel you owe me some courtesy don’t you, my former student.”
“Of course, sir.” Donald Trump said with far more respect in his tone then he usually paid. Partly because he suspected his mentor could still snuff out his life with a gesture if he was so moved.
“Well so you succeeded. Taking control of the supernatural community in Washington D.C. Not bad” the black robed mage conceded.
“And becoming president” Trump interjected.
The other necromancer sniffed. “I suppose that is something of an accomplishment. Though you did lose the popular vote by 3 million or so wasn’t it?”
“That’s bullshit” shouted the president slamming his fist so hard against his desk it collapsed under his hand. “Only because of all the bussed in illegal immigrants…”
“Come now. Are such theatrics necessary between us?”
“Sorry sir” Trump said brushing the fragments of wood off his expensive black jacket. “Habit. Fine I lost the damn popular vote. But you’re just upset because the damn electoral college worked in my favor rather than the way it worked against you.”
“It was a tie! I lost in the House of representatives, and that worked against me because of that jackal Hamilton!” shouted the mage losing control just for an instant. For that instant, the mask of civility was dropped and the mage appeared and a glance at the malign, even rabid, spirit beneath was visible. This visage terrified most people, but Donald Trump liked it. He recognized that unrestrained hunger. After all he saw it in the giant mirror above his bed every morning.
