Killed by Drones

(Title inspired by the Muse song Reapers which has that as a line in it)

I write satirical stories because they're cathartic for me. 

Obama paced around the Oval Office worriedly. The prospect of Trump as president struck fear into his heart, although he put on a face of feigned amicability and cooperation for his first meeting with the president elect. He had to come up with a contingency plan. Various ideas came to his mind, but none of them he thought were good enough. Until finally, it dawned on him. Drones. 

Donald Trump and Co. were out celebrating his election as the next president with a round of golf at one of Trump's own golf courses. Even though it was November, the grass was as green as ever due to the use of industrial strength fertilizer as well as green spray paint in the places the fertilizer wasn't enough. The runoff from the golf course had badly polluted the nearby waterways, but Trump didn't care, as long as his golf course grass was as green as a freshly picked leaf of kale. Trump prepared to hit his golf ball, which soared into the air yet was wildly off course and landed in a sand pit. His next attempt was no better; this time the golf ball was nearly lost in the leaves of a tree. Finally, Trump managed to get the golf ball into the hole. It took him 5 strokes from the green to get the golf ball where it was supposed to be. Donald Trump and his entourage were nearly ready to play the 18th hole when a noise from the sky was heard. A swooping aircraft rushed overhead. Something dropped out of the sky. It was a bomb. It landed directly in the middle of Donald Trump and his political cronies, including but not limited to, Mike Pence, Chris Christie, Reince Priebus, Steve Bannon, etc. They were wiped out immediately. Obama was updated on the success of his drone strike against Donald Trump and Co. He smiled and ordered his staff to put out a press release that blamed the Russians from the drone strike. Indeed, it was a coverup, but who could blame him? Sometimes the end justifies the means. 

Acknowledgements: To my first satirical story, where a golf game was a minor plot point. Also to one of my former teachers, Mr. Elgin (not related to the Elgin clocks people), who is a big fan of golf and has good fashion sense regarding ties and golf pants. I thought of him because of the golf aspect of this story. I am pretty sure that he is honest when he plays golf and doesn't cheat like Donald Trump has been said to do. 

It seems that my satirical stories have the tendency to end in some kind of murder. Maybe that's from all the murder shows I watch.