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This is a story, boys and girls, about how Donald Trump’s world could end — not with a bang, but a whimper. These are not like the crimes you and I make, or the defense and injury law firm practicing Rosemead receives. There are a lot more.
It’s a balmy September day in Washington when John Kelly bursts into the oval office to blurt, “Mr. President, Robert Mueller is here. He wants to speak with you.”
“What?” says the president. “We told him I don’t have to talk to him. I’m the President. He can’t make me.”
“Yes sir. He doesn’t want to discuss the investigation, He says it’s over. It’s shutting down today, and he’s here to say goodbye.”
“Oh. Good. Well, then, bring him in.” Continue reading
They lined up like contestants in a game show, in front of the prize they get if they win — a huge airplane known as Air Force One. Hard to know what the intended symbolism was, but it made them look like very small people. They came, ostensibly, to explain why they should be selected Pilot in Chief (with the two current front runners leading in the race because they have never flown an airplane).