Little Kai Koi upon learning how his entire extended family met their maker at the Akasaka Palace in Tokyo

Robert Mueller loved his new Twitter account, Reinhold Niebhuhr @FormerBu. He knew he needed to keep up the stream of pensive solo shots in weird places with cryptic messages to really fuck up big Donny. Maybe he’d have a picture taken next week In a random place on the grounds of Mar-a-Lago. Maybe one in the shadowy hallway outside of the presidential suite at The Ritz Carlton in Moscow. Perhaps even one of him standing near Melania’s bodyguard boyfriend who works at the Tiffany next to Trump Tower. “Oh Lordy this was going to be fun.”

If pissing in his pants (twice) during Monday’s all day grilling by Robert Mueller’s team of prosecutors was the worst thing that happened to him then Sean Spicer considered himself lucky. He really regretted forgetting to wear the padded briefs he used to wear under his Easter bunny costume but he’d come to rely on them during tough questions at the press podium and he was out of them. And oh but Mueller and his team were slick! He had to admire how they handed him 4 bags of vanilla Dippin’ Dots while simultaneously sliding his crammed notebooks away from him. Wait?

Donald Trump felt ready. It was the day of the big IQ test and he had crammed his ass off studying his addition, subtraction, colors and days of the week. He had yet to master his times tables, 5’s gave him a hard time especially, but he didn’t think the test would sink so low as to ask that. He had already learned so much on the job anyway. He now knew that Puerto Rico was an “island surrounded by water, big water, ocean water.” He knew words, he had the best words and he knew exactly how many inches tall Senator Bob Corker was. He was going to blow Tillerson away. “I’ll show that Eagle Scout who the real fucking moron is,” Trump thought jumping up with hand raised to get his test first from non-partial Gladys, 2nd sous chef in the executive kitchen.

“Those freakin’ Ricans,” muttered Donald Trump rubbing his sore shoulder while finishing up a poem he’d drawn for Vladimir Putin’s Birthday. He knew he shouldn’t have used his drawing arm when he chucked those shitty paper towels to those greedy hurricane victims last week in Pueeeeerto Reeeco.

“Jared come on. Your purse compliments your sun dress perfectly.”

“I just want to look pretty when I vote today Ivanka, is that okay with you?” snapped Jared sliding the ladder down the purse aisle in his closet.

He had this one day to be himself, one day, and she was rushing him.

John F. Kelly sits downs at his non secure computer and begins to type:

To: jackdorsey@twitter.com

From: johnnyfk@aol.com

Date: September 26, 2017

Re: Double Trouble from Donny Goldenfingers?!?!?

______________________________________

Jack. Please don’t do this. I beg of you. Please.

The history books would refer to the spate of Republican health care bills in the Trump administration as The McConnell Conundrum: the need to vote along party lines to repeal Obamacare while jeopardizing their own chances to get coverage for a preexisting condition caused directly by the actions of, and proximity to, the President of the United States.

In McConnell’s case just hearing Trump’s voice caused his left testicle to spasm so violently he sometimes jerked the table. He knew he had to vote yes but was banking on Susan, Lisa and John to vote no. He needed his stabilizing testicle brace (not covered under the repeal). He would not be called Flutter Nutter anymore. He would NOT.

“Paul did you get a hold of someone to replace the lock on the front door?” asked Kathleen Manafort as she stuffed chewed gum into the keyhole in their bedroom door. “Um yeah,” Paul replied, lining up cyanide tablets in the shape of the Kremlin on his dresser.

Melania and Donald Trump board Air Force One on route to Naples to tour the hurricane damage.

Stilettos up Melania!