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Trump considers the Democrats Satan while he calls himself God.

"I can shoot anyone I want and grab any woman by her pussy and my followers will never lose their faith in me. I issue my commandments and they follow me like sheep. They know that I am the way and the truth. False prophets appear promising them a land of milk and honey, but they don't stray. They know that only Trump World exists. As long as they pay homage to me, I am their salvation."

"How can you be so sure of your power?" asked Satan.

"In my latest test of their loyalty, I have killed 180,000 of them, infected another 5,500,000 with disease, stripped them of their jobs, taken their homes and visited my wrath upon their cities as if they were Sodom and Gomorrah. Their faith never wavers. They know that I am omniscient and omnipotent and I cannot be vanquished."

"I would like to wage a bet with you," said Satan.

"I have never lost a penny on the golf course. I'll be more than happy to take your money."

"I'm looking down on Brownsville and I'm observing Jesus Salvatierra barbecuing in his backyard surrounded by his family."

"Nobody prostrates himself before me like Jesus. His Democratic friends call him a coconut, but he tells them that Donald Trump has made America great again and he calls me the greatest president in the history of the United States."

"Of course, he praises you. He's healthy. He's wealthy. He has a beautiful wife and handsome children, but if you took all the bliss in his life from him, he would renounce you. You might call him one of your fine-weather disciples."

"So what is the bet?" harrumphed Trump.

"Give me the power to subject him to suffering beyond his wildest imagination and I guarantee that he will repudiate you."

"I give you the control to torture him as you please except you can't take his life."

And thus, the trials and tribulations of Jesus Salvatierra commenced. COVID struck. For weeks he was racked with pain and he couldn't breathe. After a month he was released from the hospital. He was at home when a friend visited him to check on his health. The conversation turned to politics.

"Who are you voting for?" asked the friend.

"Donald Trump."

Then COVID struck his family. In less than a month his wife and four children died. He was making small talk at the cemetery after he had buried his last child when a mourner broached the presidential election.

"Who are you voting for, mi amigo?"

"Donald Trump."

The economy worsened. At the end of a week his boss called him into the office and informed him that the firm couldn't make ends meet and he was giving him a two-week notice. Jesus stopped at a bar for a drink where he ran into acquaintances who offered him a chair at their table. They were having a heated discussion about the presidential race.

"Who are you voting for, Jesus?" inquired one of the crowd.

"Donald Trump."

Satan unleashed all his might and put Brownsville smack in the path of a category-five hurricane. When Hurricane Jezebel washed away the Third World Capital of the United States, there wasn't a building standing. The rescue workers were clearing away rubble a week later. To their astonishment, they found Jesus, hands and feet pierced with nails and a rod buried in his side.

On November 3rd he plans to hobble to a make-shift tent. Next to a circle with Donald Trump's name, he will color in the bubble.

Satan threw his hands into the air. He conceded. Trump had won. In the Old Testament God restores Job's former life. Job finds a new wife, has several children and acquires new lands and huge flocks of goats.

"Now that Jesus has proven his worthiness, will you help him recover his losses?"

"Why?" laughed Trump. "He's voting for me, right?"

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