It’s early January, 2015. Donald J. Trump and his daughter, Ivanka, are walking in Central Park, when they run across three men who look like refugees from the Summer of Love. They appear to be stoned.
DT: Get out of my way, you losers! Go get a job!
SM1: Hail, Trump, King of Casinos!
SM2: Hail, Trump, King of Reality TV!
SM3: Hail, Trump, Wall Builder in Chief!
IT: Dad, these guys are creepy. Let’s get out of here.
DT: They may look weird, but they’re right! I was the King of Casinos! I’m still the King of Reality TV! I don’t get the part about the wall building, though.
IT: Maybe he’s talking about your new high rises.
SM1: Your fame will soar above the Manhattan skyline.
SM2: You will be greater, and then less.
SM3: The media will hang on your every word.
DT: They already do. You forget who you’re talking to.
SM1: The land will be full of terror and trouble.
SM2: Dark clouds arriving from all directions.
SM3: Greatness comes from the most unlikely places.
IT: This sounds like a Batman movie. Maybe a new Sharknado.
DT: No, it’s starting to make some sense. What about the wall?
SM1: The enemy is everywhere.
SM2: Beware the land of tacos.
SM3: A fortress without a moat will never stand.
DT: I get it! Only I can save this country from Obama, Hillary, and their illegal immigrant friends! I’ll run for President!
IT: What about me?
SM1: Your children will inherit a great empire, but you are doomed to be sane, normal, and bland.
DT: At least no one can say that about me.
SM2: No arguments on that score.
The Trumps head back to Trump Tower.