How Trump Got to the White House

One day all of the body parts had a meeting to decide who should be in charge.

“Well, I guess I should be in charge,” said the Brain, “I run everything already.”

“I should be charge, because without me you other guys wouldn’t know what’s going on,” said the Eyes.”

“Oh yeah,” said Legs.  “Without me you couldn’t get anywhere.  I should be the boss.”

“Hang on there,” said Stomach.   “I’m the obvious choice.  Without me, none of you guys could do anything.”

They argued and argued, getting nowhere, and then another voice spoke up.

“I’d like to be in charge.”

All the other body parts were stunned for a moment, and then they all began to laugh.  “But you’re just an Asshole!”

Their reaction hurt Asshole’s feelings, so Asshole stopped co-operating with them.  Before long Stomach began to feel queasy, Brain got a little foggy, Legs got a little shaky, and Eyes started seeing things kinda blurry.  So they agreed Asshole could in charge.

The moral of the story:  you don’t have to be a brain to be the boss, only an asshole.

(A retelling; didn’t make this up.)