Thread by @owillis

Steven Mnuchin rubbed his tongue against the back of his teeth to ensure they were all still in place. The feel of each nub on the tip of his tongue gave him a alright reassurance as he stared at the red camera light through his thick glasses. Here he was, lying again.

Jared Kushner pressed the phone so close to the side of his face that his permanently flared nostrils were creating a thin sheen of fog on the phone's screen.

"He's getting worse," he whispered.

"I know, I can tell," replied Tiffany.

Tiffany Trump blew a bubble with her gum and checked her nails to make sure the polish was drying.

She loathed these late night calls with Jared. He would whine and moan for hours on end. But she needed a job next summer and he was - barely - her brother-in-law.

Ivanka gritted her teeth. She hated hearing Jared whisper on the phone with her sister, largely because he was so incompetent at covering up the calls. He insisted he was going over the results of his "pump sesh" with the personal trainer and Ivanka questioned her choices again.

Mick Mulvaney was on his hands and knees in the Oval Office. The smell of excrement overwhelmed everything and no matter how hard he scrubbed the smell seemed to have permeated everything.

He thought of the good old days in Congress, before he was jester to a shit flinger

Eric Trump couldn't figure out why he was so wet. He had gone to the bathroom just like the governess had shown him. He had even closed the door and unzipped.

Eric looked down at the closed toilet lid, covered in his issue, but could not see why he was damp.

Trump stared up to the ceiling which had been painted a bright gold to echo the style of his private residences.

They were wrong. All wrong. He was in perfect shape, completely stable.

The green skinned monkey on his shoulder clanged his mucus-covered cymbals in agreement.

"But what if there wasn't a 22nd amendment," said Barack Obama.

Michelle pinched the bridge of her nose and rolled her eyes.

He had been on this since August of last year and frankly she was tired of it.

"Now?" Thought Melania, stepping out of her bed and making two big steps across the room to where her "go" bag sat. She would have to rough it without her concealer and eyeliner, but when the moment came... Out of here, like lightning and up to see Francois in Quebec. Soon.

Jared was sobbing now and Tiffany thought for as long as this conversation had gone on she thought she should get at least a vice presidency at the Kushner companies.

"Definitely a corner office," she thought.

"Yes, I get it," she said out loud.

Corner. Office.

Mitch McConnell slowly propelled himself in his lukewarm private lagoon. He could smell the fish swimming around him, bouncing against his taut flesh. He opened his mouth and unhinged his jaw.

Now he would feed.

"I really showed him Ann. I gave him the old one-two punch," Mitt Romney proclaimed as the breakfast prayer ended.

"No doubt," lied Ann. She still loved him, but the ongoing emasculation was a turn off.

Romney struggled to open his packet of sugar, giving himself a paper cut.

Ivanka gnawed at the bedsheets. Listening to Jareds incessant whining made her angry.

And hungry.

The blood lust was back. She longed to rip the flesh with her own bare hands.

Jared didn't understand. He was weak. Not a killer.

Bill de Blasio looked at the giant piles of t-shirts in the storage shed. "Bill 2020" they read.

The mayor of New York slid his fingers backward through his hair.

"The fuck am I going to with all this?" He asked nobody in particular.

Sean Spicer looked into the box labeled "my dignity" and sighed.

It wasn't his imagination. It had actually gotten smaller, somehow.

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