BADFELLAS
Tonight, a potential member was up for initiation into the Axis of Evil, the world’s most notorious despots.
The air in the dimly lit room was thick with cigar smoke and the scent of expensive vodka. Around a long, mahogany table sat the world’s most notorious despots, each adorned in garish mobster attire—Kim Jong-Un in a gaudy fur coat, Viktor Orbán cleaning his fingernails with a dagger, and Benjamin Netanyahu counting a stack of hundred-dollar bills. To their sides, Iranian Supreme Leader Ayatollah Khamenei stroked his beard ominously, while Belarusian President Alexander Lukashenko adjusted his military-style jacket, eyeing the new recruit like a badger fixated on its next meal.
At the head of the table sat Vladimir "The Ice Pick" Putin, the undisputed boss, in a pinstripe suit. And tonight, a potential member was up for initiation.
Enter Donald "Tiny Hands" Trump—bloated, jittery, and drenched in Axe body spray. He shuffled in like a man about to be roasted at a Friars Club event, except here, the comedians were war criminals, and the jokes might get him killed.
Putin’s Test: The Bear-Wrestling Trial
Putin leaned forward, a sinister grin stretching across his face. “Donald, in Russia, we do not just talk. We show strength. You must wrestle the bear.”
A heavy wooden door creaked open, and a massive, snorting grizzly lumbered into the room. Trump's face turned the color of expired Velveeta.
“Uh, listen, Vlad, buddy, I love bears. Great animals. Big, strong. The best. But uh, I have… uh… bone spurs.”
Putin scowled. The room tensed. Suddenly, the bear stood up—and removed its head.
It wasn’t a bear. It was Igor, a 6’8” Russian powerlifter in a bear suit.
Trump, relieved, attempted a “wrestling move” but immediately slipped on his own flop sweat. Igor picked him up and body-slammed him onto the marble floor.
Putin clapped. “He fights like an American. Next test.”
Kim Jong-Un’s Test: The Haircut from Hell
Kim Jong-Un, sipping a neon blue cocktail through a bendy straw, smirked. “In North Korea, we have best haircuts. You must get one.”
Two stone-faced North Korean barbers emerged, each holding scissors so sharp they could split atoms.
“Listen, Kimmy, I got the best hair. It’s natural. Very natural. Some say it’s the best hair they’ve ever seen.”
Kim signaled to the barbers. Snip. Snip.
Thirty seconds later, Trump looked into a mirror and screamed. His iconic, structurally unsound combover was gone—replaced with a perfectly round bowl cut.
Kim laughed so hard he nearly spilled his drink. “Very strong! Very powerful!”
Orbán’s Test: The Anti-Woke Speech
Viktor Orbán leaned back in his chair like a Bond villain who had just filed a human rights violation for fun. Flicking his cigar ash into an empty champagne glass, he sneered, “Donald, you must give speech about the dangers of wokeness. But you must make absolutely no sense.”
Trump perked up. This was his moment. He grabbed the mic and started rambling.
“Folks, we’re living in very bad times. Wokeness—very bad. They want to cancel Christmas, cancel steak, cancel… the moon. That’s right, folks, they want to cancel the moon. And let me tell you, Hungary? Very strong country. Not like Sleepy Joe’s America, with…windmills and, uh, pronouns.”
Orbán nodded approvingly. “Truly unhinged. He passes.”
Netanyahu’s Test: The Casino Scam
Netanyahu, ever the hustler, leaned in. “Donald, we’re running a casino. You must rig a game without getting caught.”
Trump, a man who bankrupted multiple casinos despite owning the house advantage, stepped up to the table with full confidence and zero competence.
He chose roulette. Instead of subtly fixing the wheel, he grabbed the ball and threw it at full force.
The ball ricocheted off a chandelier, hit Orbán in the forehead, and landed in Kim’s drink. Netanyahu facepalmed.
“You… you just lost us half a million dollars.”
“I won bigly,” Trump insisted.
“No, Donald. You did the opposite.”
The Loyalty Oath
Putin, Kim, Orbán, Netanyahu, Khamenei, and Lukashenko stood and gathered around as a ceremonial bottle of vodka, a raw fish, and a bloodstained knife were placed on the table.
Trump stared. “Uh… is there a Diet Coke option?”
“No.”
He reluctantly took a sip of the vodka, immediately coughing like a dying car engine, then moved on to the raw fish. He took a small bite and gagged violently, flailing his hands like a Muppet having a seizure.
Finally, he was handed the knife. “You must cut your finger. Swear loyalty in blood.”
Trump hesitated, then pricked his finger just enough to draw a microscopic dot of blood. He whimpered. “Owie.”
The room was silent. The dictators exchanged glances. Then: uproarious laughter.
Putin wiped a tear from his eye. “Donald, you are… how do you say… total embarrassment.”
Kim snorted. “You fail, but we keep your money.”
Orbán smirked. “And your dignity. What little was left.”
Netanyahu patted him on the shoulder. “Hey, at least you got a free haircut.”
Trump, fully humiliated, was escorted out in a gold-plated tracksuit, a farewell gift that said ‘LOSER’ on the back. As he was kicked out of the compound, a note was slipped into his pocket:
‘YOU’RE FIRED.’
The door slammed shut. The Axis of Evil Crime Syndicate erupted into laughter.
Trump stood in the dark, sniffling. “That wasn’t very nice.”
He lumbered towards his limousine as the sound of Putin chuckling in Russian echoed into the night.
Thank you kindly! 🥰
So funny, Lisa. Really excellent article. Just a beautiful job. Understated rage, biting sarcasm, great writing. I loved it!