It had all been so easy. All he had to make a sexist remark here, a racist one there, but always with just enough room for the benefit of the doubt. But now was when the second half of the plan would come into action. Tonight he would dial up the rhetoric up, bit by bit, until he had his followers whipped up into a nationalistic fury not unlike the Three Minutes Hate. Surely then, the nation would see these people they shared this country with, so easily roused by the lightest touch of populist rhetoric, for the nascent fascists they are? The Republican party would have to choice but to reform, both moderating the political climate direction and clinching victory for the democrats. Donald smiled. Yes, tonight would be the first night of a new progressive era.

This was his cue. Sarah had warmed the crowd up for him, no doubt with some inane tripe full of folksy Alaskan wisdom and You Betcha's. He took his place at the podium amid the cheers and flashing cameras. "My fellow Americans," he began (The classics never failed), "I'm proud to stand here today with so many men and women ready to make America great again!" There was some whooping and clapping, a safe and unobjectionable start. "But as many of us know, our great country, our way of life is under attack!" He swallowed. This was going to be where it start getting tricky. "There are people out there that hate our way of life." This elicited a few indignant whoops. " People who hate America and what it stands for. People who would like nothing more to see our great culture destroyed!" The whoops were starting to give way to subdued roar. "Some people want to tell us we should have diversity and tolerance- tolerance for people who come across our borders with their drugs and rape our women! Tolerance for people who'd rather live in the slums and steal and kill than do a hard day's work! Tolerance for savages who want bring their Sharia law and slaughter anyone who disagrees." By now the crowd was hanging on his every word, all that was left was to deliver the coup de grace. "We gave them every chance, but we now know that some people will never be able to accept the American way of life. Well I say enough! I say it's about time we take this country back!"

The crowd was now in a full fit of righteous anger. Donald was glad he didn't have to hide his smile- he didn't think he could have if he had to. It had all been so easy in deed. In fact, he was feeling pretty smug. He could easily push them even further...
"Now there's some people out there. People who control the media, and they want you to let them walk right over you." He was barely dog-whistling at this point, but nobody in the crowd seemed to notice. "People who want to tell you that you're no better than those that would destroy our life, that they have just as much right to be here." Not even one person in the crowd seemed offput. Donald frowned. Surely some of the people had some sort of stopping point. Well he had already made his point, might as well see how far he could push it. "These Jews, and I think none of us here are afraid to say it, envy our culture, our prosperity!" Not even a single confused look in the crowd. In fact, they seemed to be louder than ever! Donald was starting to become uneasy, even he hadn't imagined things had become this bad. He continued, uncertainty starting to set into his voice. "Well no more words, words have failed us. Now is the time for action, now is the time we march up there and do something about it!" the crowd was in a maddened frenzy now- screaming and stomping the ground. Panic began to set in. This couldn't be real, even in his worst nightmares, he'd never imagined the country to be in this state. Unthinking, desperate to see the slightest glimpse of sanity, he grabbed the microphone and screamed: "Are we just going to stands around while these kikes let these chimps and towelheads run amok? We have no choice to finish what was started 80 years ago!" Now the slightest shred of civility had evaporated, and the crowd was all but tearing each other to shreds in a fit of blind, mindless fervor. "WHAT"S WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE!?" He tried to scream. But such was the fury of the crowd, that even with the microphone, he could no longer hear his own voice. And still the noise grew louder. The noise! Louder than a jet engine, louder than a rocket launch! Louder than anything could possibly ever be! Blood started to drip from his ears as he curled up under the podium and began to weep.

Donald woke up slouched in a wheelchair in a sterile, tiled room illuminated by the golden light of late afternoon streaming through the large windows, only dimly aware of the other dazed-looking individuals lurching about or slumped in their chairs. If still had the capacity to notice, he might have found it odd seeing himself in the television screen saying something about how the recent violent attacks were unfortunate, but were inevitably going to happen. He might have been unnerved when the man in the white coat walked over and mentioned his miraculous full recovery from that stroke, and his subsequent nomination. Instead he looked blankly out the window and thought how nice to looked outside today.