The Trump klan is gathered around the kitchen trough, eating McNuggets and gulping down Diet Coke as they discuss what to do about the plethora of subpoenas they are facing.
“But Donald I vant to help. I sell my white hat.”
“No Mel. You can’t do that. You look like a virgin in that hat. The johns pay more for that virgin look.”
“I have little girl dress and hat I wear. Ve sell the vhite one. Dat NFT not selling vorth shit.”
“Okay, if you insist. I’ll help. I’ll start up the steak business again.”
“But Daddy, you failed at that. And steak is very expensive now.”
“Oh Vanky, sweetheart, don’t you worry your pretty little head about that. I’m not going to sell beef steak. That shit is expensive. I still have all the lion, zebra, and gazelle carcasses the boys brought home from their last safari. I think there’s even a bobcat or two in there as well. Boys shot them in a National Park out west. And a few mammals from Central Park and a bit of roadkill. That’s how I got my hair. Slow badger. Steaks cost nothing. Sell for a fortune. We need fresh lawyers. Attorneys who don’t know us. Attorneys who aren’t fanatics about getting paid. Maybe some foreign lawyers. Have you and the skank found anyone Junior?”
“Kimmy has a cousin from the Adirondacks who almost finished law school. He’ll do it for nothing if she does him a favor or two.”