Shouting orange suggests democracy is now illegal

Claims he only lost the popular vote due to ‘millions of illegal votes,’ yet refuses to support an investigation

By Rebecca Peterson, Humour Editor

In one of what is likely to be many incidents over the next four years by which we are left laughing and shitting our pants in terror simultaneously, President Elect TinyHands McLiar tweeted that his successful election was tainted by voter fraud.

“I didn’t get the popular vote, but only because people voted illegally,” said the sentient orange in a press conference on Monday (and see, you can tell this is a humour article, because he’s actually speaking to the press directly in this story, and that hasn’t happened in real life for a long-ass time). When asked to elaborate, he said, “Well I mean, if they weren’t voting for me… I mean, who wouldn’t vote for me, right? I’m the greatest. Everything I touch is like, so great. McLiar steaks? Best steaks. What was I talking about? Right, Mitt Romney is a coward—wait, he supports me now. I mean, Mitt Romney is my best friend. Great guy, greatest guy.”

He then spent the next 10 minutes stuck in a loop expounding on the attributes of Mitt Romney, until most reporters either passed out from boredom, or started gnawing off their own limbs in frustration.

“Back to the question, please,” said one of the few remaining reporters, as her eye twitched uncontrollably. “What do you mean, ‘illegal votes?’ Do you have any evidence?”

“No.”

“Can you define how these votes were illegal?”

“No, they just were. If they weren’t for me, they were illegal.”

“Would you support an investigation into- “

McLiar then pulled out a bullhorn and blasted it into his mic for a solid two minutes, drowning out the reporter’s question and deafening everyone in the vicinity. This resulted in five lawsuits being levelled against the president elect: Filed, served, and settled within seconds of the victims calling their lawyers.

“Sir,” said the last reporter standing, who had pulled a pair of earplugs from his ears, having clearly anticipated the orange’s evasion tactics. “As you know, there is a growing movement of people who wish to have the election investigated, and recounts done. If there have been cases of voter fraud, as you claim, wouldn’t you want to know for sure so you aren’t making unfounded accusations that could be embarrassing for you if later disproven?”

McLiar blinked and said, “Buddy, were you here for like, my entire campaign?”

“Fair point, but the question remains.”

“Look, the people who want to investigate the election, they’re just losers, you know? Sore, sore losers. It’s sad, it’s so sad, so pathetic that they can’t just accept I won.”

“But didn’t you say you’d do the same thing if you didn’t win?”

“No more questions.”

“And aren’t you contesting your own win now because you feel like you didn’t win by enough?”

“No more questions, you’re not allowed to ask me questions anymore, I’m almost president and I can do what I want.”

“But—”

McLiar pulled out the bullhorn and promptly fired a blast into his microphone again, deafening the reporter permanently, and ran back to his tower. At three a.m. that night, he tweeted this:

“When I’m the president I’m gonna pass a law that says everyone always has to agree with me. My brain hurts!! Thinking is hard.”