Trump shivers. He's cold.
The A/C is on, and it's December.
"Why is the fucking A/C on?!" Trump yells at the top of his lungs. "Who turned it on?"
His shouts go unanswered.
He twiddles his thumbs and looks at his phone. It's 4:16 a.m. He thinks about nuking someone, anyone. He has the codes.
But maybe he's the culprit for the A/C himself. Trump realizes he can't remember what he's been doing for the last four hours. At midnight, he was watching CNN. That's it. Drawing a complete blank after that.
He notices a puddle of sweat and drool in front of him on his desk. "I don't think I've ever been this high," he mutters. He has a dim recollection of smoking some meth and trying to insert a 10-inch screwdriver into one of his bodily orifices, but he can't be sure. His memory has been getting spotty lately.
It's 3:30 a.m. on the 26th floor of Trump Tower and President-elect Donald Trump is hunched over his desk.
To his left, a mostly consumed taco salad from lunch. To his right, his iPhone. On the floor, piles of untouched intelligence briefings.
Most importantly, in front of him, is a pile of high-grade crystal meth. Trump snorts a line, the third he's inhaled in the last 20 minutes, and turns his attention to Twitter.
Cerebral cortex awash in speed, he scrolls through his favorite hashtags (#AltWhitePride, #MakeAmericaGrabAgain, #TheBestInFakeNews) before finding just the tweet from a C-minus high-school student in California.
It's fucking brilliant. The kid fucking nailed it. Trump fishes in his mealy taco salad for a fingerful of half-dry refried beans.
He retweets the kid the old-fashioned way, cutting and pasting and editing to his liking, getting bean remnants all over his touchscreen. He snorts another line of meth and licks the screen, then reflexively grabs his groin. He hasn't had an erection in years, but old habits die hard.
He blurts out a rapid-fire burst of forced maniacal laughter. A snot bubble pops from his left nostril.
The phone rings. Caller ID tells him it's Putin. "Gotta take this," he mutters as he licks the mucus from his lip.
All in a night's work.