Twitter Wants Donald Trump to #FreeChrisChristie After On-Stage Hostage Crisis
Governor Chris Christie: former candidate. Current prisoner and meme.
Poor Chris Christie. The governor of New Jersey and one-time Republican presidential candidate was out of the Republican primary race before he even bothered to set up an online store, although he did manage to strike a serious blow against the Marco Rubio Robocracy before going out.
And on Super Tuesday, in a cruel twist of fate, he found himself held hostage on stage behind Donald Trump (or Drumpf). Trump has morphed into a Bowser-like figure in American politics, shamelessly bullying anyone in his path, and he’s apparently chosen his Princess Peach. Christie introduced Trump, something he’s done repeatedly since officially endorsing the strangely-orange Republican frontrunner, and then stood silently on stage behind him, his face transfixed in a rictus of agony as his sadistic master spoke. No man deserves this, thought the internet, and Twitter exploded with #FreeChrisChristie, the best collection of memes, Vines, and tweets produced on this year’s Super Tuesday primary election night.
At first, many thought Christie and Trump’s relationship bore a passing resemblance to another nefarious duo.
But others thought Christie must simply be deluded, that his support of such a candidate was a case of mistaken bravado.
But as the press conference went on, confusion and despair started to creep across Christie’s face. He felt emotions that no amount of false enthusiasm could curb.
All regret and despair soon gave way to sadness. A deep, profound sadness that only listening to Adele on repeat could help us understand.
Clearly, something terrible had been done to Christie to make him this way, to hurt him so, to change him from the man he once was.
Still, some people found a silver lining in Christie’s proximity to the seemingly-unstoppable, unabashedly hypocritical monster that is Trump.
And soon, the memes and jokes gave way to longer works of art, like The Washington Post’s beautiful soliloquy of a man trapped in a political hellscape only Harlan Ellison could dream up.
