Once there was a Russian tree
and she loved a little boy
and everyday the boy would come
and beg the tree for dirt on Hillary Clinton.
He would gather Russia’s leaves
and make them into crowns of US dollars
and play king of the forest.
He would climb up her branches and swing
And they would play hide-and-go-seek-the-Russian-orphans
And when he was tired
He would sleep in the shade
of the tree’s peeing prostitutes.
The boy loved the Russian tree very much
But time went by
And the boy grew older
And the boy kept pretending they never had a relationship.
Then one day the boy came to the tree
And the tree said, “Come, boy, come climb up my trunk and be happy.”
And it was definitely an innuendo.
“I am too big to climb and play!” said the boy.
“I want to buy things and have fun with my Democracy toys.
And I want some money!”
“I’m sorry,” said the tree.
“But I have adoption sanctions to discuss, too.
Take my dirt on Hillary, boy,
and sell them on the Internet.”
And the tree added, “Then you will have money
and you will be happy
because your heartless nepotistic father
will pretend to love you.”
And so the boy climbed up the
Russia tree and gathered dirt on Hillary
and carried it away to the 4chan trolls.
And the Russia tree was happy.
But the boy committed perjury about their relationship for a very long time
and the Russia tree was sad.
Then one day the boy came back!
The boy shook his Russia tree with joy
and she said, “Come, boy, climb up my trunk and be happy.”
And that, too, was a creepy innuendo.
“I am too busy to climb Russia trees,” said the boy.
“I now run an entire country!
And all of the departments of its government!”
“Actually my sister is more important,” the boy confessed.
“I do believe that father woud like to sexify her.
I would, too, if he’d let me.”
“Can you give me a house, dear Russia tree?” said the boy.
“A tremendous White House, with a hotel nearby
for visitors to pay me money?”
“I have no house” said the Russia tree.
“But I do have oil profits
and lots of good hackers.
You may cut off my branches and build a home.
And then you will be happy.”
And so the boy cut off her branches
and carried them away
to build his father’s new White House.
The boy stayed away for a long time
And when he came back
the Russia tree was happy
because in Soviet Russia
the television watches YOU.
“Come boy,” said the tree “Come and play.”
“I am too old & sad to play,” said the boy.
“I want a boat that will take me far away from here!”
The boy explained “Being a government
Is stressful and hard
And also the Internet is very mean to us.
Can you do something about that?”
“Retweet my twitterbot trolls
and make an army,” said the Russia tree.
“Then you can sail away…and be happy.”
And so the boy did just that.
He used the Russia tree to build a mighty ship
made of bots, trolls, and literal nazis.
He retweeted them day and night
and he was happy.
…but not really.
After a long time
the boy come back again
“I am sorry,” said the Russia tree.
“But Comey & Mueller and friends are buttfucking you so hard.”
The Russia tree said, “My Wikileaks are gone — “
“My teeth are too weak for Wikileaks” said the boy.
“My twitterbots have done all they can.”
“I am too old to engage in twitter feuds,” said the boy.
“Wait hold on I’m gonna retweet this
libtard with an emoji and it’s gonna be 🔥LIT🔥”
“I do still have a Syria,” said the Russia tree.
“But that, you cannot climb.”
“I am too tired to climb,” said the boy. “We must stop ISIS!”
The Russia tree shook its soviet leaves and said “No no no
We will plan a public event
but you will not touch ISIS.
They buy our guns from Assad.”
“I am sorry,” sighed the Russia tree.
“I wish that I could give you something…
but I have nothing left.
I am just an old stump. I am sorry.”
“I don’t need very much right now,” said the boy.
“Just a place to build another high-end hotel
for diplomats to sit and rest and bribe us.”
“Well,” said the tree, straightening herself up as much as she could.
“If only you would make a lewd comments to me like your father would…
For an old stump is good for sitting and resting
And assassinating journalists
Plus shunting around oil profits through shell companies.”
The Russia tree reached out her hand and said,
“You may use me to build your hotel, sweet boy
As long as our biggest export still profits.”
And the Trump boy did.
And the Russia tree was happy
Because at least Hillary Clinton wasn’t President
Because Putin never liked her anyway.