Washington, D.C. — In what historians are already calling “the dumbest purge since Blockbuster rejected Netflix,” President Trump has authorized the forced deportation of actual America Citizens—born, raised, and, in some cases, decorated veterans of The United States Armed Services—for what he labeled “Unpatriotic Tendencies.”
Who qualifies as unpatriotic? According to the 43-page, crayon-scrawled executive order, the list includes—but is by no means limited to: Hispanics, Asians, Blacks, disobedient Whites, the LGBTQ community, Leftists, Socialists, Communists, Atheists, Jews, vegans who complain too much, short people who “walk like they got secrets,” bald people who “don’t even try,” ugly people who don’t wear hats, fat people who use two airplane seats, anyone with an unapproved face, suspicious shoes, or an eyebrow that arches like it’s hiding something.
One official clarified off-camera: “Basically anyone who makes the president feel weird in his tummy. If you sneeze funny, stand crooked, or make eye contact for too long—boom. You're Deported now.” Analysts say the list grows by the hour, reportedly including a substitute gym teacher who beat Trump’s golf score, a toddler who refused to clap during a televised speech, and a woman at a grocery store who told him “you dropped your gum.”
It all began on 15, July 2026, with a knock on the door from ICE. At precisely 5:02 a.m., agents arrived at the home of Melody Knavs, a 33-year-old kindergarten teacher living in Whispering Pines. She had no criminal record, no political activism—unless you count her volunteering at a bake sale.
“They told me my Amazon cart had too many non-flag-themed items and I once paused the National Anthem to answer the door,” Knavs said from a crowded bus terminal in Ljubljana, Slovenia, clutching a bag of trail mix and visibly in shock.
She was forced to sign 120 forms she couldn’t read, renounced her citizenship by blinking twice on camera, and was given a paper ticket and a frozen Lean Cuisine. “I asked them why Slovenia,” she recalled. “The agent just shrugged and said, ‘I dunno. Someone upstairs spun a globe and pointed. I just file the paperwork.’”
In Atlanta, ICE agents entered a Purple-owned barbershop mid-trim and called out for Darrius “D-Jack” Jackson, 29, who had just asked for a fresh fade and a little off the beard.
“They didn’t even explain,” Jackson said from a guesthouse in Rwanda. “They looked at me, shrugged, and said, ‘Yeah... we just really don’t like you.’ Then they shuffled some papers like it was a restaurant bill and told me to pack light.
He was held in a ICE area behind Gate 47, right between a defunct Auntie Anne’s and a suspiciously empty Spirit Airlines kiosk where agents made him watch reruns of Walker, Texas Ranger.” They handed him a buttered corn dog, a cowboy boot full of Sprite, and a one-way ticket to Rwanda with a note taped that said, "Too Woke. Try Africa."
“I didn’t even get my edge-up finished,” he said. “They sent me out the country lookin’ like LeBron in 2013.”
Roger Blinn, 61, a retired postal worker from Lynchburg, Virginia, found himself on a budget flight to Palau after what he described as a “sneeze-related misunderstanding” inside a CVS pharmacy. “Someone sneezed once—once—and I didn’t say ‘God bless you,’” Blinn told reporters via a scratchy Zoom connection from a borrowed Nokia in Ngerulmud. “Next thing I know, two ICE agents in fishing vests show up, call me a ‘domestic ambiguity risk,’ and shove a pamphlet in my face titled How to Assimilate Quietly.”
Blinn said he was made to complete a pop quiz about frontier values, then forced to choose between Palau and “some place called Ice Island.” “I picked Palau ‘cause it was warm,” he said. He now shares a one-room apartment with a Croatian accordion teacher and a stray dog named Coco, whom ICE listed as his emotional support co-defendant.
Citizens Speak Out
“Yes, my cousin got deported to Poland,” said Lucille Duval of New Orleans. “He voted Green Party once and now he out there eatin’ cabbage with strangers. Dis government done lost dey mind, baby. Dis voodoo governance.”
“This ain’t America no more—it’s Trumpmerica,” said Rickie Joe Simmons of Alabama, polishing a lawn gnome dressed as Uncle Sam. “You tellin’ me folks gettin’ shipped off to Iceland ‘cause they like Bruce Springsteen? That tan on Trump thicker than cornbread batter. That’s not leadership. That’s a clown shade of tyranny.”
“My sister got deported for watchin’ Rent twice,” said Tasha “Big Tea” Morales of the Bronx. “Rent, my guy! Not even Hamilton. They grabbed her before intermission. I’m going nowhere. I got snacks, legal fees, and hands if ICE wanna try me.”
“I thought it was a Facebook hoax until they snatched my yoga teacher mid-downward-dog,” said Bethany Krill of Des Moines, Iowa. “Now I sleep in my American flag pajamas and keep a bald eagle plushie near the door—just in case they ask for proof of patriotism. My cat has a passport now too.”
Broadcast live from a White House—named the “Billionaire Bunker & Patriot Pleasure Palace”
President Trump addressed the nation while seated atop a 40-foot golden eagle throne.
“These people—we don’t want them. Criminals, thugs, radical leftist lunatics. One guy had a bumper sticker that said ‘Be Kind.’ Disgusting.”
When asked about deporting citizens, Trump laughed, saying: “Citizens? If you don’t clap for me, love country music, and eat unseasoned chicken twice a week—you aren’t a citizen to me.”
Pressed further about the constitutionality of the program, he mumbled something about “spiritual borders” and blamed the whole thing on DEI, TikTok, windmills, and Biden’s dog.
It started with the loud ones—the protesters, the pundits, the professors. Then it was the teachers. Then the artists. Then the baristas with too many bumper stickers.
No one noticed when the vegans vanished. Or the jazz musicians. Or the people who didn’t clap fast enough at Trump’s State of the Union slideshow.
Now it’s the quiet ones. The loyal ones. The ones who thought staying out of it would keep them safe.
One morning you're brewing coffee in Seattle. The next, you’re in Serbia with a government-issued poncho and a laminated note that says, “Too Woke. Try Next Time.”
The skies are still, the borders are backed up, and Canada just installed a 300-foot steel wall with nothing on it but a single LED sign that flashes: “Nope.”
It’s easy to laugh—until you hear the knock.
Maybe the real question is “Where did America go wrong?”