I think the orange moron would be perfectly happy in jail, if they gave him a real time accounting interface so he could watch his balance sheet keep growing exponentially.
He is basically one of the least happy people on the planet, and it would probably benefit his mood to be surrounded by people who were as stupid as, and less fortunate than, he is.
Like say, a prison population.
Federal Penitentiary, Lewisburg, PA
Summer 2026
Exercise Yard
Inmate 2017-21: All you crims, come over here. Don't worry, I paid off the screws, they're having an extra coffee. They're some very fine people. Now, hear me out. You know me. You know why I'm here. They were coming for you, but I got in the way.
Voice from crowd: Bitch, you a traitor!
Inmate 2017-21: Who said that? I'd like to punch him in the face, I tell you. He needs a buck fifty right in his ugly face. (
Roars of approval.) That's right! They got to me, but they want you next!
Voice from crowd: We didn't rape no woman in no department store. Bitch!!
Inmate 2017-21: All right, get out! Get out! Get him outta here!! (
Wild scuffle, sounds of a beating, body carried out of crowd.) Now, that's beautiful. That's very fine. Now, let's talk about winning. You hood rats, you want better chow? I can get you Chicken McNuggets. I can get you Domino's Pizza, all you can eat. I know the owner. Joe Domino!! Very fine man. You can have that. I just need your help. Listen to my cellie here, a very fine fella from South Carolina. Come up here, Tim.
Inmate 696969-69: I don't know how he's gonna do it, but trust him like I trust him. I love him. When I say I love him, I mean I love love love love him! I love you, T. I mean that. I love you. (
Confused murmurs.)
Inmate 2017-21: Okay, get him outta here. You're okay, Tim, but many people are gonna think you're taking it up the ass. My cellie, Tim, folks! And the only thing up his ass is my cell phone and a wad of cash, because this man knows how to keister. Now...what's that? (
Muffled question from crowd.) He wants to know about the fish he saw in my cell this morning, and can he meet him. No, that's my son-in-law, and he's no fish, he's doing very important negotiations for me. Not a fish. Cute little butt, they say, but not a fish. Okay, your chow. How are we going to get that done? I want you to get your shanks ready. We need billions and billions of 'em. And I want to you to go to the chow hall -- now -- and stand up for your rights. I need you to go there, now. I'll be with you. (
Crowd moves off, stage left, with increasingly louder sounds of shouting, doors being kicked open, and wild screams. Inmates 2017-21 and 696969-69 remain behind.) Didn't I tell you? They'll do anything for me. They'll die for me. Okay, I need to call Habba. Squat down and get me my phone, bitch.
