FOOD FIGHT!!!! The “Animal House” primary campaign is underway.

Donald Trump — aka “Bluto” — crashes through life on “double secret probation” with his unique and unwavering perspective on history. Facts can sometimes be malleable for him, but the truth with him is always solid.

You can almost hear Mr. Trump confronting fellow Republicans — also known as the “Surrender Party” — for shrinking from a fight.

“What? Over? Did you say ‘over’? Nothing is over until we decide it is! Was it over when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell, no!”

Like I said, sometimes factually shaky but always solidly grounded in the truth.

Mr. Trump is most beloved when he stuns the world by smashing the love crooner’s treasured guitar on the stairs of the fraternity house.

Then there’s Chris Christie — aka “Flounder” — a fatso who loves the all-you-can-eat buffet. He gets included in the party simply because there are no standards. 

Mike Pence — aka “Pinto” — is the dorky virgin looking for true love (politically speaking, of course) in all the wrong places, including a stolen shopping cart. No wonder he refuses to dine alone with women anymore without a chaperone.

Ron DeSantis — or “’Rob’ DeSanctimonious,” as one astute political observer privately calls him — looks like a meatball. Also, his mother wears combat boots.

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Actually, that might have been his wife who wears combat boots, and it may not have been combat boots. Two obscure political websites — one called The Daily Beast, the other called Politico — published vicious hit pieces about Casey DeSantis in which far less astute political observers complained about the Florida governor’s wife. One mocked the way she dresses, and the other accused her of being involved in her husband’s political career.

This is the “war on women” you’ve been hearing about for so long.

But really, they’re the “high-minded” ones in American political discourse. Donald Trump is the impolitic vulgarian dragging the public debate into the gutter.

This brings us to the first truth about Donald Trump that nobody in Washington wants to admit. He did not invent vulgar, self-congratulatory and nasty politics. Washington is built on dishonest Machiavellian narcissism.

Mr. Trump is just the first politician honest enough to own it. He handles his own dirty work.

Which is why Mr. Trump chose to call out Mr. Christie’s serial fatness himself.

“How many times did Chris Christie use the word SMALL?” Mr. Trump wondered after Mr. Christie announced his candidacy.

“Does he have a psychological problem with SIZE? Actually, his speech was SMALL and not very good. It rambled all over the place, and nobody had a clue of what he was talking about.”

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Later, Mr. Trump sent out a clip from Mr. Christie’s remarks in which the former New Jersey governor explained ham-handedly about the current meager choices in the Republican primary cycle.

“I wondered what our choice was going to be,” Mr. Christie lamented. “Are we gonna be small? Or, are we gonna be big?” (Hint: Mr. Christie thinks you should vote for the “big” one.)

Accompanying the clip sent by Mr. Trump was a doctored video of Mr. Christie speaking at a giant buffet holding a plate spilling over with food.

If Flounder really wants to match wits with Bluto, he should issue his own doctored video of Mr. Trump popping a hard-boiled egg into his mouth and chewing it carefully before punching his own cheeks and thereby spewing masticated egg all over his fellow diners at the table.

“I’m a zit!” Bluto announces to the disgust of everyone. “Get it?”

Let the pandemonium begin.

• Charles Hurt is the opinion editor at The Washington Times.

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