Donald Trump so mad for the US presidency he gets his way

It is inauguration day, January 20th, 2017. Donald Trump searches his drawer for a note from Barack Obama, something on heavy cream stationery with the White House insignia, maybe reiterating the Obama doctrine, "Don't do stupid stuff." But there is nothing there. That puts Trump in a huff. How dare Obama depart without leaving the customary handwritten good-luck missive? He grabs his phone and tweets: "SAD!! No note from my predecessor. No Class Obama."

The tweet doesn’t go through. He’ll figure it out later. Right now, he needs to savour the moment.

"I did it. My way. They said I was a dangerous, insane traitor, a threat to national security, a Siberian candidate in cahoots with Pooty-Poot. That spook for Hillary, Michael Morell, the ex-CIA chief who dished up the flawed intelligence that helped get us into the Iraq war – which I opposed from the beginning, even if I said the opposite – called me "an unwitting agent of the Russian Federation".

“That reminds me, I need to give Vlad a ring today from the hotline and find out what I’m supposed to do now. Just kidding. The political elite was in a frenzy about what would happen if I got my short finger on the nuclear button. Where is the button, by the way?

“I’ll find my nukes in a minute. First I need to write out a pardon for Melania for her immigration violations before she has to clamber over the new wall in her stilettos. Who would have ever thought the problem with a nude photo portfolio of the next first lady would be a question about whether she had the right visa or not?

“So many things to do. I need to name my cabinet. I’m going to make Ivanka secretary of state. And Tiffany will be over at defence. Keep it in the family.

Brouhaha

“My temperament is so perfect for this job. The greatest temperament in the history of temperaments because you go through pressure and you have to be able to handle pressure. The brouhaha over whether I was a nut job was so unfair. It got so big that Dr Phil and Dr Drew were both on TV analysing my so-called narcissistic personality disorder.

“They said this happens when megalomania and a sense of omnipotence, which are normal in childhood, are carried over into adulthood. They said the symptoms are an excessive need for admiration, a lack of empathy for others’ feelings, an obsession with achieving power and success, and the desire to take advantage of people around you.

"Does that even sound remotely like me? Not a chance. Sounds more like Bill Clinton and Ted Cruz. The madness over my madness reached its peak in August, when Congress raced back from its break to pass legislation requiring presidential candidates to pass a psychiatric exam. That Republican Benedict Arnold, Jeff Flake, was the main sponsor, so it ended up being called the Flake Act. Ha-ha-ha.

“Congress couldn’t find a way to get money to fight Zika but they found a way to force me to take a Rorschach test. I passed with flying colours. Best score ever.

"As my doctor said, I'm the healthiest man ever to run for president. And man, did I run. Sure, things got a little wacky at times. I kicked that baby out of the rally. I got confused about the Iran video. I fought with that Gold Star family. I toyed with Paul Ryan and tortured John McCain. I alienated the entire African-American community, not to mention Latinos, women, millennials and Republicans."

He clicks on the overhead TV set and quickly turns it off in disgust.

"The Clinton News Network and MSNBC and the failing New York Times are so biased, you'd think that Hillary won the presidency, not me. She's still all over the news. Crooked Hillary got so full of herself and overconfident that she even pulled out of states like Virginia and Colorado in August, when I hadn't even really started my campaign yet.

Rigged

“My family and friends were worried about me when the polls nose-dived in August. They thought I wouldn’t be able to handle it without lashing out or dropping out. But I knew those polls were rigged. The poorly-educated angry white people still flocked to my rallies and I knew they would carry me through.

“Those haters gave me so much love and support that it comforted me. They believed me when I told them the economy had hit rock bottom, even though the jobs and wage numbers showed otherwise. It was a long, hot summer. But I was finally able to make the case to the voters that they had the wrong fruitcake. I wasn’t bonkers. Hillary was. That pathological liar could never get her stories straight on those emails.

“She scares her staff and blows up over anything. She’s such an angry white person, she should be one of my supporters. I don’t know why she’s always grinning when I turn on the TV. And she’s practically stalking me. Every time I see her lately, she’s pictured around the White House.”

The door opens. Trump looks up, expecting Mike Pence. But it's two orderlies in white coats collecting the ex-presidential candidate, who lost in a landslide to Hillary after spending the autumn being treated at Bellevue under the provisions of the Flake Act. After all the cries of "Lock her up!" it turned out he was the one who got locked up.

“Mr Trump, it’s time for your impulse-control/ delusion-reduction therapy,” one orderly says soothingly. “We need to go early. It would be crazy to miss the swearing-in today of Madam President.”