Donald Tries to Convince Kamala of String Theory
Whatever you think I am, be sure; I am the ghost of a church mouse. This manifestation allows me to squeek through space and time, lightly. On little mouse feet. The striped snake with its tail in its mouth, the one that lives between the frames of time, was giving me a ride. It was luck, really, that allowed me to see the thread of an event that will either happen soon, or has happened recently: the American presidential debate of 2024. The snake has some NASTY parasites, so I was compelled to avoid one, and dove into a plush velvet curtain fold, somewhere backstage. The two participants were in some clandestine meeting. I heard the tail end of the arrangements being made by their assistants. There had been some pleading and an exchange of cash. Shhhhh, here they are now! “Donald, we’re not married,” Kamala said sternly. “Yeah but you don’t understand, if there are an infinite number of universes, then somewhere, we are,” Donald pleaded. “Donald, we are not married, you are married t...