Bridget has always loved to bounce. She’s put in the hours, endlessly springing up and down on her bed as her dog Buster watches from the sidelines. Arguably, there is no individual better qualified to bounce than Bridget. She’s been preparing for this her whole life.
Finally, Bridget is given her big shot. Someone has assembled the trampoline of her dreams in her back garden. On Christmas morning, Bridget wakes up and sees the thing she’s always longed for. She races downstairs. She has a clear shot at the trampoline. But then, at the last moment, Buster barges in ahead of her and grabs the trampoline for himself. Bridget stands on, astonished that something as stupid as a dog could have beaten her to it. Meanwhile, Buster gets his stupid dog mouth and his stupid dog parasites all over the trampoline, ruining it for anyone who ever wanted to use it afterwards.
That’s right, Buster the dog is Donald Trump. Buster the dog is Donald Trump, Bridget is Hillary Clinton and the trampoline is America. Thanks for rubbing it in, John Lewis.