WASHINGTON, D.C. — In a bold but questionably compassionate move, the Trump administration announced it will reject all federal spending related to Pride Month, claiming the funds would be “better spent helping homeless veterans.”
When pressed for details on concrete programs to assist those veterans, officials quickly excused themselves to attend an “emergency flag-folding seminar.”
“We believe in real priorities,” said Dale Hammersmith, Deputy Assistant Secretary for Prioritizing Things, while standing in front of a bald eagle mural and what appeared to be an autographed Bible.
“Every rainbow balloon we don’t buy is another MRE in the hands of a hungry Marine. Or at least that’s the idea. I think. Did we budget the MREs yet, Carl?”
Carl, an unpaid intern wearing a MAGA visor and three unpaid parking tickets, responded by shrugging directly into a fax machine.
A Selective Budgetary Reallocation
The announcement arrives days before the start of June, traditionally observed as Pride Month, a time to honor the history, struggles, and triumphs of the LGBTQ+ community.
But according to the newly established Office of Cultural Prioritization and Other Stuff We Just Made Up, such displays are “not in line with current budgetary values—or biblical meteorology.”
“We’re not anti-Pride,” clarified Sarah Patriot-Brooks, White House Press Secretary and Cousin-by-Marriage.
“We just think taxpayer dollars are better spent making sure our brave veterans aren’t sleeping under bridges.
Unless the bridge is rainbow-colored, in which case we’re burning it down and building a tasteful beige one.”
The Budget Cuts
A 37-second PowerPoint presentation—looped once before crashing—outlined the initiatives being cut:
Federal Pride flag raisings
Diversity education seminars
A Department of Justice Drag Bingo fundraiser
(The bingo event had already raised $75 and three IOUs before being quietly canceled.)
When asked if the saved funds would go directly to veterans, Hammersmith said:
“Well, that depends on how you define directly.
We’re launching a think tank that will consider a study to recommend a framework to possibly allocate a future portion of funds to veteran-oriented possibilities. So, yes. We care.”
Veterans Left in the Dark
Ironically, no veteran organizations were consulted prior to the announcement.
“We found out on X,” said Sgt. Ron “Gunny” Jenkins (Ret.), founder of Boots on Main Street, a nonprofit supporting homeless veterans.
“I’m not mad—I’m just confused. Last year they told us the budget was tight because they were building a gold-plated wall-mounted replica of Trump’s golf swing at Mar-a-Lago.
Now suddenly we’re the reason Pride got canceled? I didn’t sign up to be a scapegoat. I signed up for free pancakes on Veterans Day.”
Public Reactions and “Operation Patriot Prism”
The move drew polarized reactions:
Conservative pundits praised it as “a return to values,” though few could confirm whether any federal funds had actually been spent on Pride activities or whether any veterans had been helped yet.
Critics called it a classic rhetorical bait-and-switch—using veterans as political cover to roll back LGBTQ+ initiatives.
“Next week they’ll be cutting school lunches to ‘focus on firefighters,’” tweeted @RealSassySenator.
“Then they’ll gut public libraries ‘out of deep respect for border agents.’ It’s like a never-ending game of Budgetary Mad Libs.”
At the White House, attention was already shifting to Operation Patriot Prism, a new initiative replacing rainbow flags with ones featuring only red, white, and blue—presented in “non-threatening, heterosexual gradients.”
The initiative is expected to cost $4.2 million, though a spokesperson assured reporters that “some of it may be tax-deductible depending on how you feel.”
Despite backlash, the administration doubled down.
“Pride is just a distraction,” said Patriot-Brooks, adjusting her flag pin to maximum visibility.
“The real pride is in serving our country. Unless you’re gay and serving. Then we’ll have to circle back on that.”
At press time, a White House aide was spotted sneaking into the break room with a rainbow cupcake, whispering, “Don’t tell Dale.”