Everywhere the President goes he hears about this Great Act. On newscasts, on radio talk shows, like the voice of Jacob Marley’s ghost, it calls out to his subconscious mind.
Even while strolling through the White House corridors, he hears his staff whisper about this great act.
"Boy! Everyone has seen this Act except me; something about handcuffs and impossible escapes. I just love a good magic act; must be in my showbiz genes."
With the attention span of a sea sponge and intellect of a draining bathtub, our Commander in Deep hands a note to his secretary, “Send out an invitation to this Magic Act. I am dying to bring them here.
I keep hearing such good things about them and want to ask them to perform at the White House.
I am hoping they’re as good as that Hamilton Act, but with none of that Crappy Rap music.
After he leaves, his secretary opens the note and begins to read.
Send this out on my special White House stationery.
I am pleased to extend an invitation for your Act to appear here at the White House. If scheduling permits, I want your act to play out for me and my whole family.
It is signed: Donald J. Trump, President of the United States of America.
P.S. You will have to find the address to send this invitation to, I can't be bothered.
Oh, I almost forgot to tell you the acts name.
It’s called the RICO Act.
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