After smoking a huge rock of meth, Trump makes a bowl his usual midnight snack: Froot Loops and Kaopectate, topped with a dollop of marshmallow cream. He slurps up a spoonful and reaches for the remote.
Baldwin on SNL. Sucks! He flips to CNN. Sad! He settles on a Howdy Doody rerun.
Steve Bannon slithers into Trump's office, reeking of bourbon and body odor. He's been huffing gasoline again. Trump can tell.
Bannon suddenly emerges from his unleaded stupor. "Boss! Froot Loops? I told you, Breitbart is boycotting Kellogg's. Froot Loops is Kellogg's!"
Trump glares at him and slurps another spoonful, leaving a glaze of marshmallow cream and Kaopectate on his chin. "No, Steve. Mine. No way."
Bannon stands up straight. "Give it to me, Don. Now."
Trump growls in defiance.
Bannon pounces. They struggle over the bowl, wrestling each other to the floor, and soon end up resting in each other's arms, breathing heavily, coated in crushed Froot Loops and the same white goo that was all over Trump's chin.
"Boss?" says Bannon.
"Why is your hand on my ass?"
They lock eyes, kiss, and halfheartedly make love.