As Donald J. Trump, aging, balding and wheel-chair bound, celebrates his 100th birthday on June 14, 2046, he slowly reviews his latest lawsuit aimed at proving he won the presidential election of 2020.
With quivering hands, his voice no less blasting than ever, he tries to leaf through the latest report his children had authorized in order to satisfy his demands and insure their participation in their shares of their in heritance.
The year is also of note as Trump earlier had changed his lavish Mar-a-Lago Club into a luxury retirement home for himself, Melania and a grown up Barron having long left him to live elsewhere.
“What has kept me going,” he screams, “is the knowledge I was never a loser even if many millions more of Americans voted against me than for me! I know that the next audit will prove me to have been right in the first place!”
Trump, now having suffered the financial impact of tax investigations, massive repayments of debt to a variety of banks and other lenders, now finds some solace by staying in touch by phone with old friends, the dictator of North Korea and a similarly aging Vladimir Putin.
Most important, however, are other Mar-a-Lago nursing home residents from the old days like Mitch McConnell and Rand Paul, both from Kentucky, both of whom still chuckle over how they felt they were the “ventriloquists” for someone they considered a “dummy” in the White House and how they got him to get the Saudi Royals to buy into Mar-a-Lago as insurance.
For Trump, however, there is the grim reality he has been deserted by gangs like the Proud Boys and others who had been freely financed by Republican money in the “old days” and have now forgotten what it was they were fussing about, as they waved Nazi Swastikas and invaded government buildings. It seems the realities of aging have not spared them either.
Just as Trump is being wheeled into the Mar-a-Lago dining room for his 100th birthday party, a slim and similarly aged Joe Biden comes tripping in for the event.
Spying this stranger, Trump shouts: this event is only open to patriotic Americans who love their country. Then as a nurse blows out the candles for him and serves everyone their Big Macs, America can finally move on.
Joe Honick is an international consultant to business and government and writes for many publications. He can be reached at email@example.com