Donald Trump has never doubted his own innocence. He knows that he never conspired to undermine the US electoral system in any illegal way. Undermining has such sordid conotations. He thinks of it as more like gaming the system. He knows that dried up, crooked Hillary would've done the same. He has no doubt about this, and neither do you.
He knows why that wily old split tail has kept her Jefferson hole shut and minding her own business. He saw the evidence against her. No matter how many times he mentioned Wikileaks and the missing emails no one in the media would bite. So all that evidence is just collecting dust at Trump Tower, while his families dirty laundry is run up the flag pole. ''It aint fair!'' He grumbles in a low tone, ''And to think what I've done for those Jews. Daddy was right, those bastards can't be trusted!''
He is certain they're out to get him. That's why today is such a difficult undertaking. In his mind, he has always been a fighter so the fact that his family and other loyalists have managed to get him here is all the more concerning to him.
Over the loud speaker a voice announces, ''Flight 2405 to Liverpool is now boarding.'' Donald thinks ''God I wish I were going to Liverpool, such great courses and so few negroes.''' The line through security shuffles forward. As he nears the metal detector he notices he is a little nervous. This being the first time Donald has ever had to shuffle through security like a commoner, its a little exciting.
As he removes his shoes and belt, his mind drifts back to the decision to fly commercial. It took Ivanka and Jared all evening to convince him that this was the only way to slip out of the country undetected. Ivanka spent an hour coloring his delicate hair a beautiful ''bronde ombré just like Karlie Kloss''... whoever that is Donald did not know. He asked for a John Wayne or even a Jimmy Stewart, but Ivanka seemed thoroughly impressed with her work anyway. He joked, ''We finally got you a responsibility that matches your security clearance.'' She just poo pooed it. Every year she's more like her mother.
His hair color didn't concern him to much, but the rags he was forced to wear was almost unbearable. Where Jared ever found this course Armani was beyond his imagination. Donald wished he didn't give up so easily on his Vanquish but without Hope's help it all seemed so overwhelming. He felt he was ganged up on by Ivanka and Jared and Hopey would have stuck up for him against those two. He remembered successfully demanding his tailor add the vicuna and qivuik lining and it brought him a little comfort and more than a hint of pride. He shuddered to think what that Loro Piana sandpaper would feel like under his humid pits.
He also was quite proud of his idea to post Eric on his twitter account writing random thoughts all morning to quell suspicions around Washington. The two most important things he told him were the two toughest for him to undersetand. Firstly, He had to have his first post up by 6 am, which meant he had to be up 5 hours ealier than usual. Secondly, He hopes that imbecile heard him say, ''Keep it simple!'' That will be the sure tip off if he gets all philisophical like he does. He supposes he should've left Barron in charge of twitter to be safe.
It was no small rush when the large negro lady motioned with her threatening wand for him to pass through the detector and on to his waiting articles. He laces his belt back through the loops and grabs his shoes. ''Oh god...Those shoes...'' He drops them with an audible exhalation and slips his size 7s into them. First the left...*sigh*. Then the right....*sigh*. It was very difficult not to feel that Jared wasn't mocking his circumstances when he presented him with these horrid Berluti torture chambers. He grabs his briefcase and lumbers toward the boarding area.
When he finds the correct area, he locates a chair and drops his burdensome briefcase with a thud and sinks into the plastic chair. He immediately dozes off. The next thing he hears is, ''Flight 1208 to Moscow now boarding.'' That snaps him from the middle of a beautiful dream. He was in his comfy bed with his darling Hopey beside him. They were sharing the most beautiful cheeseburger he had ever seen.
He was about to take a bite when he was jolted to reality by the loudspeaker. As he stands he mumbles something about being crippled from that plastic seat and casually remarks to the man in the other cheap suit, '' Is that the same seat used to water board foreigners? Am I right?'' He smiles to no response.
He boards the plane and is completely disoriented by the countless seats. He just wanders up and down the rows long after the nice lady announces, ''Please everyone take your seat.'' Then more specifically, ''Sir, you'll have to take your seat. Sir, Sir!'' Donald explains he is not sure whats happening and another nice lady takes him by the hand and gently shows him to his seat. After he wedges into the window seat next to a large dark complected fellow he jokes, ''You don't have explosive shoes on do you?'' Then to the row to his front says, ''Am I right?'' No response. He immediately dozes.
When he wakes the airplane is unloading. Donald, well rested and excited, springs to his feet and grabs his brief case and lumbers hurriedly from the plane. He is met at the door by two men in dark suits who usher him to a side door and out onto the tarmac to a limousine waiting outside. ''This is more like it'', he says as he hops in the limo. He comes face to face with his best friend in the world. ''Vlady!'' Donald yells excitedly as he embraces and kisses Putin on one cheek and then the other. He says, ''Its good to be home.'' Putin replies half heartedly ''Yes Donald, Dobro pozhalovat.''
After Vlady says something to the driver they speed across town to a huge hotel where Donald is given over to some other men in dark suits after Putin says, '' I will see you for dinner Donald.'' As he is escorted upstairs to the top floor he tries to joke with his stone faced handlers. He announces with a raised index finger like a returning conqueror, ''To the Pee Pee room!'' Again to no response.
As he laughs at his great wit, one of the men taps on a door that immediately swings open and a small middle aged man wearing boxers, a white undershirt and sporting white hair says with an Australian accent, '' 'ello Donald, I'm Julian. Welcome home mate. Looks like we'll be roomies.''
(Canned laughter)
Cue the ''Odd Couple'' theme