|Mar-A-Lago, South Elevation showing owner's suite and Baby House, 1100 S. Ocean Blvd., Palm Beach, FL, April, 1967/Photo from Library of Congress, Jack E. Boucher|
Now, picture this:
He's in the throes of the Terrible Twos (or is it the Terrible First 100 Days, or, the Terrible First 100 Dazed?)
Whatever it is, he wears only a diaper and sits in his little sandbox, screaming and yelling, his hair flying, his arms flailing, while he tosses overboard many of his new toys (a plastic "Barbie" (aka Kellyanne Conway, in a very short (above knees) white dress while crouched on a sofa), Sean Spicer, Reince, Sessions).
Big tears splash from his eyes and roll down his cheeks, and spoiled Trump screams: "My way! My way! I want my Twittybird!!" Waa-waa-waa
Secret Service agents in hip sunglasses, suits, crew cuts, all looking alike and holding AK47 rifles, stand nearby and eye Melania lustily. She is seated under an umbrella in big sunglasses and provocative clothing.
Pecking away at a computer and wearing a hidden earpiece and no shirt, who but Putin, with a sly smile, in a beach chair, on a horse, or under the umbrella with grinning Melania.
The sandbox sits on the shores of Mar-A-Lago, yonder with palm trees standing erect, leaves blowing.
Off the coast a Russian ship (with flag) runs up and down the waters while Russian aircraft hover in the sky.
Standing at the sandbox watching the temper tantrum escalate are Bad Bannon (Grim Reaper per SNL) and Ivanka (in dress suit in heels in the sand) holding the Big Baby's favorite toy, Twittybird.
Says Bannon to the spoiled child:
"You can have Twittybird back if you promise to behave and not click the Twitty too much! You've already broken your finger, and run down Twitty's battery and since you've thrown away all the environmental rules, we have no batteryless powered Twittys to give you!"
Ivanka nods in agreement.
(Better punch lines, please write here.)