This article has been plumped and bamboozled for your pleasure. Reader discretion is advised.
August 24, 2023, a pompous Trump descends from his jet. The world's sins echo as he carries them on his back. An aura of I'm doing this for you surrounds his hairs.
The plane ride to Atlanta was hectic. The head of security had to use a grapple- truck to haul Trump into the plane. His visit to the Fulton County jail was scheduled for primetime, but he dragged his feet all day and almost didn't make it. What better time to surrender than primetime?
"Mr. President. You have to do this anyway, so better do it big."
"BIGLY!" Trump corrects his security as the claw of the truck unloads him into the jet.
On his seat, Trump continues making last-minute calls. He had been making them all day to end the saddest day in America.
"NO MORE BLANK CHEQUES, NO MORE SENDING CLIENTS YOUR WAY. NOTHING….WHATS THAT? I OWE YOU A CHEQUE? GO TO HELL GEORGE."
"I WILL MAKE THEM CHANT HANG HIM LIKE MIKE PENCE."
"…AND TELL FANI I WENT TO THE WHARTON SCHOOL OF FINANCE."
The head of security taps Trump's shoulder. They had to go over the plan again, before landing.
"WILL FANI BE THERE? I WON'T LEAVE THE PLANE IF SHE IS."
"Absolutely not. Sir, we've gone through this. Fanni won't be there, and we ensured all the officers would treat you nicely. Remember, defiant, credible, strong."
"IT'S NOT GOING TO END WELL FOR YOU IF THEY KEEP ME THERE."
"Mr. President, they're not going to surprise- jail you. Rest assured, it's just a booking."
"I KNOW WHAT A MUGSHOT IS FRANK."
"In and out. You'll be in there, in and out. You won't even feel it. Prints, a photo, your number, and bam! You get to go back home and play golf."
"A 2.5 HANDICAP IS A PERFECT SCORE."
"No sir, an inmate number."
Trump bolts out of his seat and makes a run towards the pilot.