It was three a.m. and Donald had just finished typing his latest rant on Truth Social. Now he laid in bed alone, dressed in orange silk pajamas.
The bed was large and circular. Donald had seen it many decades earlier in Playboy. He remembered, “How Hef loved cavorting in a similar bed.” Then he smiled thinking about how many women he cavorted with in this one.
With the help of a night light, his eyes focused on his image on the ceiling mirror. He frowned upon what he saw and thought, “G-d, I’m old and fat but at least I’m still free.”
He wore orange in bed on the advice of his shrink. The doctor said, “Donald, you got to confront your fears of wearing orange jumpsuits. Give orange PJs a shot. Donald had confided to the doctor, “In my nightmares, I cry in my orange jail cell. And when I wake up the sleeves of my PJs are soaking wet.”
Donald tried to fall asleep, tossing, turning and praying. “G-d, please let that damn sleeping pill kick in. I got a tough day tomorrow and I’ll need to get some rest.”
But his brain failed to cooperate. Donald focused on his nightly ritual, fantasizing about the five women he desired.
He thought, “Cassady, Lauren, Marjorie, Kari, and Stormy, which one do I start with?”
Cassady was in the news, he’d begin with her. He remembered, it was the day of the Insurrection, January 6th. Cassady was in the Oval Office and he watched Rudy stick his hand under her skirt. Now Donald pictured his hand crawling toward Cassady’s treasure.
Lauren was next. He had seen Lauren’s Beetlejuice adventure numerous times on YouTube. He loved it. Now Donald and Lauren sat in that theater watching BeetleJuice. It was dark, so Donald grabbed Lauren’s breasts, pulling them out of her dress. Lauren smiled with joy as she grabbed him by his privates.
Marjorie now flashed on Donald’s mental screen. He remembered that caveman movie, “Quest For Fire.” Marjorie was his neanderthal. He loved doing her in a wooden cage as the tribe cheered them on.
As Marjorie’s vision collapsed into obscurity, Cari’s face appeared. He grabbed her by the head and planted a deep French kiss in her mouth. They remained locked together for seconds, until he released his grip.
Now the last women in this parade appeared before his eyes. It was his favorite—Stormy. And he and Stormy did it all.
At 3:15 a.m. Donald fell asleep with a grin on his face.