Trump was talking in his sleep: “I’m nobody’s fool. It’s not as easy as it seems, you see, it’s this thing… I’m certain somebody is fooling me, right this very minute. I can feel it, I have a sense for when someone’s about to turn, and I’m always there to remind them, I mean, encourage and support them in their fight to keep me free. (And by the way, isn’t that great? They love me so much they’ll give me their money through merchant-dizing and direct deposit—I mean contribution to my—our—course, cause, way of life that is being attacked by the Law.) Of all the nerve. I have five of the nine highest robes that can be influenced under my thumbs—like the rest of my tweeted followers. I’m counting on you guys and gals, and you know who you are, because I and my followers know who you are too. Just ask Pence for a loose noose.”

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    Disclaimer: Poetic license is at work both here and in my books. Any errors or anomalies are through no fault of my editor. These were left deliberately at my expressed intention to clearly indicate that goodness does not require perfection.

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