The Haunting Of One Mr. Donald Trump

Four am in the Oval Office.  Trump, glazed in sweat like a grotesque parody of both a shiny ham and the human physique. A ghostly apparition glides through the doors of the office, long chunks of rusty chain screeching alongside the creature as he coasts through the room. A quick flash of lightning reveals the sunken face of Jeffery Epstein.

Epstein:  Trump…. TRUUUMMP… awake from your fevered slumber…

Trump:  Eh?  Who is…. ah, dammit, I did a number two in my bed again.

Epstein:  TRUUUUMMP… I need to show you the error of your ways… your regretful actions manifest and made flesh, behold, you foul beast!!  Is this really your bed?

Trump:  Jeff, is that you buddy, you fucking scumbag??  “Foul beast”, though?  A bit judgy, don’t you think?  I mean, all things considered.

Epstein:  Listen, just… cmon, please shut up for a moment…

Trump:  And what’s the deal with the chains?  What kind of sick shit are you into now? I can’t even imagine, you pervert!

Epstein:  It’s a whole thing… I wear the weight of my sins with these chains… plus it’s supposed to help act as a warning alarm for preteen girls.  Y’know, give them a head start at least.

Trump:  You crazy bastard, that streak of compassion is going to be the death of you.  Wait a minute, aren’t you already dead or something?

Epstein:  YES!!  Yes… for fuck’s sake…. I need to show you…

Trump:  Right right right… okay bud, let’s do it.

Epstein:  Jesus…. Finally, thank you!

Trump:  So what’s this we’re looking at here?

Epstein:  This is the time and place forever frozen in shame and horror by one of your most repugnant and detestable actions, an orgy at my exclusive island resort that…

Trump:  Woo hooo!!  How young are these chicks, Jeff?   I mean even for you, this is pretty depraved.

Epstein:  Yes, that’s the idea, don’t you get that?  This is a memory of an event from years ago… don’t you…

Trump:  Alright buddy, I’m going in, wish me luck!  You still keep the rubbers in the same place?

Epstein:  Shit.