Paul Ryan; Learning to be HUMBLE. (2)

Author’s note: some of what follows could be called “offensive.” Remember, this is fiction. Don’t be a little bitch about it. These are not the views of Paul Ryan (I hope anyway) and I am merely writing this for entertainment purposes. Please don’t sue me, Speaker Ryan. I’m already poor.


Ryan was sitting in a meeting. Yet another meeting. Trump and Pence had their respective turns to speak, yet Ryan’s never seemed to arrive. So he decided to take this opportunity to rap quietly to himself once again. He loved rap.

Since his excursion into the world of Hip-Hop, Ryan had taken to calling Trump and Pence “DeeTee” and “Mikey P.” He had recently discovered that Black people made rap as well as White people. He was shocked at this revelation and had endeavoured to devour as much as he could. He thought it was great, the rappers would become rich. Maybe they would donate to him. But then he remembered, they were Black. Ryan didn’t like Black people, they were as bad as poor people. He quickly put that to the back of his mind.

But the urge to listen to it was still there. He once again began rapping quietly to himself. Unbeknownst to him, DeeTee and Mikey P had noticed, and DeeTee spoke up, “what are you doing Paul? Talking to yourself?” He promptly apologised but gave no explanation. They mustn’t know he listened to rap.

After the meeting had ended, Ryan proceeded towards his Office. He is cut off in one of the halls by a female reporter, who wished to ask him what the previous meeting had been about. However, Ryan was caught up in his rap, and without thinking repeated the lyrics to the last song that he had listened to, “move bitch, get out the way, get out the way bitch, get out the way.” Realising quickly what he had done, he scampered to his office, closing the door behind him. He puts his headphones on, opens Spotify and hits “Play.” He could relax now.

move bitch...

Ryan had an inquisitive mind and had an unanswered question. He quickly brought up Google and proceeded to search “Can White people like Black rappers?” He happily discovered that they could. He also discovered that there were certain words that he couldn’t say. Even though he had heard multiple Republicans utter those words previously, he took note anyway. He made a list that included “n***a” and the frowned upon but acceptable “fo shizzle.” Satisfied that he now knew the etiquette of rap, he sat back to relax. After a couple of songs had played, he decided it was time to move on with his day and so opened his door, asking his assistant what his next appointment was.


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