After the Cabinet meeting that August morning, President Trump motioned Vice President Pence to stay after the others had left.
Aware that conversations in the Oval Office were recorded, the President said, “It’s a fine day outside; let’s take a stroll, Mike”. And the two walked outside to the White House rose garden where they sat on a bench.
“We’ve got a problem, Mike. My pollsters tell me that I can’t beat Joe Biden in November” the President admitted, visibly upset at having to utter the words. Trump hated losing anything, and not being reelected to a second term would be a catastrophic stain on his legacy that he would be unable to stomach.
“But Mr. President”, interjected the Vice President, “it’s only August…we’ve got three months and plenty of tricks left in the bag.”
Trump waved him off. “Michael, you’ve been a rock for me, but let’s face it…I fucked up the pandemic, I’m on the wrong side of the Black Lives Matter shit, the economy sucks, and we’ve practically bankrupted the country keeping the stock market afloat.”
The V.P. shook his head, and said, “It’s just not fair. Those goddamn Democrats, journalists, and George Soros had it in for us! Things were going so well, and then the wheels came off.”
President Trump nodded and mumbled “Yeah, and Obama undermined us, too. That bastard spied on me. And, the fucking Chinese had it in for us too. It’s amazing that we got anything done.”
Pence thought for a moment. Then said, “We could start a war. Sometimes that works.”
The President responded, “Don’t you think I haven’t thought of that? The problem is that the military hates me right now. They won’t buy it…and those fuckers love to make war!”
The two of them sat there on the bench for a couple of minutes deep in thought, feeling sorry for themselves.
Then Trump announced, “I’m going to develop health issues in a few weeks and will have to decline the Republican nomination at the convention.”
Pence was startled. “Are you okay, Mr. President? I had no idea that you were ill.”
“No, you idiot, I’m not sick!” blurted the President. “I’m going to pretend that I am. My doctor will announce that I’ve got heart problems, my bone spurs are acting up, or come up with some other phony excuse. I’ll get Fox News to sell it”, he said matter-of-factly.
The Vice President was visibly relieved. “Thank God you’re okay!”, he said. “So, what’s the plan, Sir? You know you can count on me to keep a secret.”
That is true, the President thought. Although he’s dumb as a rock, Trump mused, he’s been invaluable to the Administration by lying to cover my ass, lending me religious credentials, and keeping those Republican Party officials out of my hair. My silver haired caddy, he chuckled to himself.
“Look”, Trump said, “I’m toxic right now; I couldn’t get elected dog catcher this November. However, you don’t have all of my baggage. In fact, some private polling that I’ve had done indicates that you could be competitive…with the right running mate.”
“No shit”, Pence exclaimed, imagining the excitement when he told the wife. “I would, of course, do whatever the Party desires…to serve the greatest country in the world.”
What a doofus, thought the President. Pence just doesn’t get it: the job’s not about service, it’s about power and the many lucrative opportunities that it presents to line one’s pocket. Pence has been a “public servant” for decades, and he doesn’t have a pot to piss in, Trump thought, trying to keep a straight face.
“Yes, of course…the country”, the President stated. “We must do what’s best for our democracy”, chuckling under his breath.
Then Trump looked Pence in the eyes and said, “Ivanka”, nodding his head.
The Vice President had a confused look in his face. “What about your daughter, Mr. President? Is she sick too?”, he inquired.
“No, goddamn it, she’s not ill. She’s going to be your running mate!”, Trump blurted out. “We’ll have name recognition, she’s smart, and she looks pretty damn sexy in a tight sweater”, the President bragged.
An offended Pence blushed at the last comment, but kept his mouth shut. This could work, he thought, God willing. But, to have to team up with that pretentious bitch, he thought… God give me strength!
Trump then talked up the game plan for the convention, pledged the monetary support of his big lobbyist buddies, the votes of his political base, and assured the Vice President that Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, and the tabloid press would go to bat for him.
“It will be like grease through a goose”, the President assured Pence. “Campaign theme? How about, “Youth Will Be Served”? You’re only 63, so you can harp on “Sleepy Joe” Biden’s age to distract voters from the real issues.”
The Vice President took a second to contemplate what he’d just heard. In the campaign, he would have to distance himself from the Trump personality, but how would he do that with Ivanka on the ticket? Then again, he considered, he would need those MAGA boneheads and…they pretty much bought any bullshit that Donald Trump, Fox News and Limbaugh fed them.
Miracles happen, he thought, saying a silent prayer.
A voice in his head said, “Do it”, and Pence said, “Allright, Donald, I’m in”, committing his pound of flesh to the scheme.
“Great!”, said President Trump, patting his Vice President on the back. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, my Friend!”, he added.
The two of them sat on the bench contemplating the future.
And then, the President said, “Oh, Mike, there’s one more thing that we need to discuss.”
“Yessir, Mr. President. What is it?”, Pence asked.
President Trump fidgeted around a bit, trying to craft just the right way to say what he had to. “Uh, well, we’ve got some cleanup to accomplish before we move too far forward.”
“I’m good with a broom, Sir!”, said the Vice President. “Where do we start?”
I love his enthusiasm and naivete, Trump thought.
“As you know, our Administration has cut a few corners to get things done”, asserted the President. “Some would say that we’ve taken liberties with the Constitution, have violated the rights of many people, and have lined our pockets when the opportunity presented itself”, Trump stated.
It’s too bad, the President thought, that he didn’t have another four years to perfect the art of the governmental grift…he really enjoyed it. I might have become a trillionaire, Trump mused.
Pence shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He knew about a lot of sketchy things that the President and his cronies had done, as did the press and the public, but there was undoubtedly more that he was not privy to.
Just as well, he thought.
President Trump then said, with emphasis, “Pardon”, nodding his head. “We’re going to pardon ourselves before the posse gets too close.”
Okay, thought Vice President Pence, I understand how that works: typically a President, in the final month of his Administration, will pardon criminal acts that celebrities, cronies, and friends have committed, allowing them to skate from justice. Sure, the Constitution allows it, he mused, in a limited way. But, pardoning ourselves? Hmmm, he thought, can we do that?
“I’m listening, Sir”, said Pence.
The President then outlined a two-step plan to the Vice President, contingent on the outcome of the election.
“First,” Trump stated, “in the event that, God forbid, you lose the election, I will pardon my family, my Cabinet members, my lawyers, and anyone else that I can think of for crimes that they committed during our Presidency.”
“What about me?” asked the Vice President, alarmed that his complicity might leave him hanging out to dry.
“Sure, you’ll be covered”, assured the President.
Then, he added, “As a matter of fact, we all need some insurance, particularly if the Democrats take both houses of Congress. They’ll be looking under every carpet and into every crevice.”
Trump then outlined a “Spring cleaning” that would occur between Administrations, where virtually any record of Administration doings would be deleted from hard drives, paper files would be destroyed, and employees bribed. It would be like Trump and his people had never been in the White House.
“Second”, the President told his V.P., “on the last day of my Presidency, I am going to resign, making you, Michael Pence, President of the United States!”
The Vice President was almost brought to tears. He said, “How generous of you, Donald! The wife and family will be so honored and proud…even if it is for one day.” President Michael Pence, he thought, I like the sound of that!
And then, the current President dropped the hammer, “And, on that day, you will pardon me from any crimes that I may have committed in the four years of my Administration.”
Pence swallowed hard. Sure, he thought, there is always a price to be paid, as he recalled Gerald Ford’s unpopular pardon of Richard Nixon. And… does anyone remember Ford for anything but that one act?
Oh, well, he thought, in for a dime, in for a dollar. Give the Devil his due.
“Sure, Mr. President, I would do that for you”, reluctantly stated the V.P., already regretting his decision.
Trump smiled.
“Of course”, he said, “If you campaign hard, and say the right things like I did, you might beat Joe Biden.” The President then added, “Stranger things have happened!”, recollecting his surprise victory in 2016 when the Russians carried water for him.
The President then shook hands with the Vice President and they returned to the Oval Office, whereupon Pence withdrew to his own office to contemplate the day’s events.
President Trump sat behind his magnificent desk, staring out the window, working through the strategy, looking for any booby traps. I think I have all the bases covered, he thought. The two-step plan would shield him from those pesky Democrats after he left office, he assured himself.
(Then, he could occupy himself cashing in on all of those favors he had dispensed as President, living large, and lending his “expert” opinion on all matters to Fox News viewers. He enjoyed talking, even about things that he knew nothing about. Fox News didn’t care; they just wanted a famous face with a conservative take on issues.)
All plans need to account for contingencies, and Donald Trump’s exit strategy was actually a 3-step plan, not the 2-step version that he had sold to the Vice President.
In the event that Mike Pence actually prevailed over Joe Biden in November, there would be but one step remaining…promoting the newly-minted Vice President Ivanka Trump into the Oval Office.
His daughter was, of course, privy to the plan, as was her husband Jared Kushner. In fact, the smarmy suck-up had suggested it.
Later that morning, Kushner sat down with the President in the Oval Office.
“Good news!”, the President told his son-in-law, “Our transition plan is ready to go, and Vice President Pence is onboard”. Kushner got to his feet, gave his father-in-law a high-five, left the room, and headed for his Senior Advisor’s office in the Executive Office Building.
On the way, he stopped in Lafayette Park to make a call on his burner phone.
At the other end of the call, the voice of Vladimir Putin came on the line, “Jared, how are you?”
“Everything’s well here, Sir”, Kushner excitedly replied. “In fact, Operation Switcheroo has been green-lit by the President.”
The Russian Premier’s face flushed with excitement. The prospect of another four years with a Trump lackey at the helm in America aroused him in an almost sexual way. The help his people had given Trump four years ago had paid off in a thousand ways. To have a chance to continue the relationship, and to continue to undermine America, was a blessing.
“Tell your father-in-law that the hotel deal in Moscow will be approved and we’re donating the land, as well.”, Putin stated, and then added, “I’m also going to throw in that “pee tape” we’ve kept in the vault for the past ten years.”
Oops, Kushner thought, that thing about the prostitute peeing on her “John”, Donald Trump, back in the day…actually happened! HaHa, he thought, he’d have to mention it to Ivanka; maybe they could try it to revitalize their sex life.
“Okay, well, then…so we’re all together on this, Vlad?”, Jared began, “About one month into the Pence Presidency…something is going to happen to our friend, right?” he asked.
Putin mumbled something in the phone like, “You talk too much, Jared!”, hung up, and destroyed his burner phone.
That Trump bunch, he thought derisively. What a bunch of idiots!
But, he grinned, they’re my idiots.