Thread by @owillis

Tiffany watched the coverage of the Cohen raid and sipped a martini.

"Daddy will wish he remembered my name," she thought.

The FBI field agent shook his head as he dropped the Tiffany Trump file on his desk.

"Hell of a thing," he said to his wife, "hell of a thing."

"So this is bad?"
"Yes Mr President"

Trump grunted in that nearly involuntary way he'd been grunting for over a year now.

"Can we blame Obama?"
"Probably."
"Okay let's do that. Now bring Jared in, I need to be bathed."

Hillary was the last to join the conference call with Michelle and Oprah.

"Girl."
"Girl."
"Girl."
"Sweet Lord almighty."
"Damnit Biden, this is supposed to be a secure line."

Mother stirred her tea.

"That's an awful lot of sugar," Pence remarked.

Mother simply nodded, suppressing the manic giggle bubbling in her belly.

Obama leaned back and watched the feeds coming in over Sorosnet. Today really felt like a tan suit day. Michelle hated the thing, but he'd argue the Cohen raid made it a special day.

He was still pretty good at debating that kind of thing.

Donald Jr shoved the file into the shredder as his phone shook with all the notifications of the Cohen raid.

"God damn it, Ivanka, move faster!"

The rough edges of the manila folder sliced the ends of her fingers.

As usual, there was no blood.

As Jared scrubbed Trump's back and the dead skin sloughed off he again thought all this wasn't really worth it.

"Not good for papa," Eric said as he rocked himself to sleep in the corner

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Bob Mueller poured himself a drink and looked at the piles of folders on his desk.

It reminded him of being little Bobby Mueller and the Christmas jackpot.

"Better than a Red Rider sled," he thought to himself.

The red light on his phone flashed on the table across the room.

Jeff Sessions' knees hurt from crouching under the chair.

No way he was answering it tonight.

Let the world burn, he figured, as long as he didn't have to hear Trump say those things about his sainted mother.

The summit of Harpo Hill was beautiful on nights like this. Oprah took off her shoes and walked through the lush spring grass.

She bent down and rubbed her dog on the head and he rolled over in response.

It was her grandest game yet, and these were still the opening moves.

"Golly gee heck this is a total shock," Paul Ryan said to his reflection. He looked down in dismay. He didn't even believe himself.

He could still smell the vomit down the drain of the bathroom sink.

No matter how he scrubbed the stench remained.

"Fucking tax cuts."

As he had for the last 400 days, Mike Pence practiced the presidential oath.

Boy scouts were prepared.

You just never knew what could happen.

So far nobody in the West Wing had noticed the wire, and he planned to keep it that way.

Melania closed the door to her bedroom. She could still feel his hot candy-flavored breath. It still made her skin crawl.

For the third time that day she pulled the sheets. Thrown out the window it would certainly support her weight and her son's.

The "go" bag was ready.