— Press secretary Sean Spicer, when asked about the five-year-old Iranian boy who was detained under President Trump’s new executive order on refugees.
When the five-year-old comes to this country, he will begin his hostile takeover almost immediately. He is going to touch everything in the house and his hands will be sticky for some undefinable reason and nothing in the house will ever feel entirely not sticky ever again.
He will sow disinformation. He will run up and down the aisle of the airplane creating chaos and making fake plane noises with his mouth, even though he is clearly not a plane. He will say the floor is lava. He will say he is a dinosaur. He will say he is Batman. He will say he is a doctor who can vaccinate you against cooties. All of these will be lies.
He will commit sabotage. He will knock down his block towers with a thunderous crash when you are on the telephone. He will spill his Legos on the carpet for you to walk across barefoot in the middle of the night and make you blaspheme God.
But he will not stop there. He will tell interminable stories. He will draw horrible propaganda art where your head is too big and both your arms are sticks and your mouth is a horrible pool full of yellow boulder teeth.
He has plans to turn his bed into a spaceship without registering first with NASA. He has plans to invite friends over from school and hold them hostage behind the couch with his whole army of stuffed hippos.
He has plans to carry his sinister associate Bear Bear with him everywhere, to bed and to the dinner table and even to school, and we know how Betsy DeVos feels about bears in schools. Besides, Bear Bear is a foreign operative with a missing eye and almost none of his original fur, always silent, and his motives cannot be adequately discerned.
He has plans to let go of your hand and run off giggling because he thinks the world is all like him on the inside and there is no one who does not understand that he means no harm — how could they? – and he wants to play.
Oh yes, the five year-old boy has diabolical plans. Look at him, standing in the airport. He is not even four feet high, but his mind is whirling with plans: to go to a strange new school and learn a strange new language and make strange new friends and teach them draw incendiary graffiti all over the walls with crayon. And at recess, he may not share. He has plans to sit up past bedtime in a house where the sound of bombs falling does not keep him awake. He has plans to commit awful acts of sabotage like flushing strange things down the toilet, because here there is a toilet to flush. He has plans to grow up to become the most terrifying thing in the world: an American.
And if you turn him away — you will be very lucky if he does not have other plans.