Having served his Master's purpose, not wisely or particularly well--but wholeheartedly--Donald J. Trump finds, much to his surprise that his Master no longer has any use for him.
Oops.
This must be causing some concern in whatever parts of Traitor Don's brain that are still semi-functional.
All that treason for naught. #SAD.
Sure, he will sooner or later be confronted with a bevy of New York state charges. And there's a pretty good chance that he will face a few Federal charges as well.
Sure, he will probably lose everything.
Sure, his beloved (well at least one of them is beloved) older children may all go to prison, too.
But he's spent his entire adult life bullshitting in court, drawing out law suits, dissembling, lying, bribing, blackmailing, and threatening people.
And somewhere in that low wattage brain of his, he's no doubt convinced himself that he will skate once more. Because he always has before.
The thing is, though, that his Master doesn't care about any of that.
No, his Master plays a brutally straight forward game of Realpolitik. Not a lot of grey areas. Not a lot of nuance.
The question is, will his Master be content to bury him under an avalanche of the Kompromat that they've been collecting for many years?
Of course, it could be something more dramatic. More final. More in keeping with his Master's M.O.
So, my advice to Donald J. Trump is "Don't drink the tea."
Or do. No one really gives a fuck anymore.
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