“Looks like Greta Thornberg is going to have some competition,” said an anonymous Nobel source. “And rightfully so. While we were set to applaud the teenage climate activist at the next Nobel gig, for trying to lead humankind away from a future of searing droughts, wild storms and savage wars over dwindling resources, this whistleblower guy popped up and many of us who are up high on the Nobel food chain said, ‘well, hello, sailor.”
“For sure, a green future brought on by cooperating to reduce greenhouse gases will save the world as we know it, and that sounds really peaceful and cool, but some of us are pretty fired up about a future in which Donald Trump shuts the fuck up and slinks away, too. We imagine a world in which his image doesn’t float over the Internet constantly, like a giant orange gasbag with tiny white spots caused by tanning bed goggles over its eyes, and it seems like an Earth so tranquil we could cry.”
“The whole world had its teeth gritted for one to five more years of Trump’s bottomless stupidity and near-constant whining about how life was so unfair to a guy who got half a billion head start from his dad and the most powerful position on the planet from Vladimir Putin. And now, this whistleblower appears, and basically says, “Yo, Nancy, I’ve got just the right high heel for you to stick up Trump’s ass.”
“And she tries it on and says, ‘Baby, this fits just like a proctologist’s glove.’ And, poof! Trump is gone. No more threats to Europe, no more spooning with mass murderers, no more late-night calls to respectable world leaders just trying to get a little shut-eye and giving them the choice between insomnia and trying to dig up dirt on Democrats. The world gets so peaceful I’m nodding off thinking about it.
“Sure, Greta deserves some Nobel cheese, too. She’s from right next door in Sweden, too, so she’s got home court advantage. I’m not saying it’s a done deal we’ll split it, but that’s what the smart money’s thinking, if you look at the odds at the Oslo Sports Book.
“Sure, Trump’s been nominated too, but when his name came up the head of the committee burst into hysterical laughter, then said, Herregud, jeg tror jeg har sprengt meg litt, which is Norwegian for ‘My God, I think I’ve pooped myself a little.’ To be fair to him, he might have had a couple too many shots of schnapps at one of our interminable series of banquets beforehand.
“I mean, moats! Snakes! Alligators! Shooting refugees in the legs! You want a peace prize for that?"
The source then started laughing hard, abruptly stopped and said, “Herregud, jeg tror jeg har sprengt meg litt! Where's the bathroom?