A week after Trump Care passed, we find a woman, a girl, and a baby in the kitchen of a house in the rural south. 

GIRL (16): But Momma, because baby Brittany was sick at birth, she’s gonna lose her heath care now.

WOMAN: It’ll be fine, Darlene Mae. We’ll make do. The important thing is that we keep winning the war against the libtards who want to give away our hard-earned money to people who sit around smoking pot all day wearing their pants below their butts.

GIRL: But Momma … they sayin that the only folks gonna benefit from this new healthcare is the rich people.

WOMAN: Now that right there ain’t true. That’s damn liberal propaganda!

GIRL: But the newspaper said …

WOMAN [INTERRUPTING]: Don’t you go telling me what some liberal newspapers have to say. They’re the enemy, baby girl. Don’t you see that?

GIRL [CONSOLING CRYING BABY]: Shhhh now, Brittany Jean, don’t you worry none. Momma’s not gonna let them insurance men take away your health.

GIRL: Tell me something, Momma, when I was born did you have to worry about whether I could go to the doctor?

WOMAN: Nope. Those were the good ole days. Those are what we’re trying to get back to. And Jesus willing, we will.

GIRL: By taking away healthcare so insurance men can get rich?

WOMAN: Don’t you go slanderin’ the rich. This is America! This country was born on the backs of hard working people who worked their way to wealth. [LIGHTS CIGARETTE] ] You see, we all have the same opportunities—if we keep our noses clean and to the grindstone we can all reach that promised land. Cause it damn sure wasn’t happening under our last president, that Nig-, oh I’m sorry [AIR QUOTES] “African American.” He was a damn muslim criminal who was trying to take down the hardworking whites who built this country.


GIRL: But Momma, ain’t you worried that maybe this won’t turn out the way you think?

WOMAN: Nope. God put Donald Trump into our lives. He’s rich. Which means he’s smart. And he’s white, so he won’t turn his back on us.

GIRL: I don’t know, Momma …

WOMAN: Well you should know. Have some faith, Darlene Mae! We raised you better than this. Now put a little rum in your baby’s bottle to calm it down. And don’t go frettin’ none about the healthcare. She’ll be fine. Babies are tough. We’ll get through this. The important thing is that we win this war against all that is good in the world.

WOMAN [TAKING CRYING BABY]: Now go fetch me a can of pork and beans for dinner. I’ll mix in some extra fatback. Shhhh, now, Brittany Jean. One day you’ll be old enough to vote too.


Jim Mitchem

Fat Americans, We
What's the Deal with Gone Dogs?

Jim Mitchem

Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. @jmitchem on twitter. First novel, Minor King, out now.