Donald Trump said in an interview released on Sunday that he did not think he would run for president again in 2028 if he loses this year’s race for the White House.
In an interview on the Full Measure television show with Sharyl Attkisson, the former US president – who ran in 2016 and 2020 – was asked whether he saw himself running yet again in four years time.
“No, I don’t,” Trump answered. “I don’t see that at all.”
He said: “Hopefully, we’re going to be successful.”
I want him to cark it on stage from something like getting struck by lightning.
I also wonder if the secret service would notice if I snuck some giant tesla coils onto his rally stage. maybe a big red button on the podium that flips them back on?
That button should be on his lectern and it should say TRUMP so he’ll do the honors himself.
“Do Not Push”
for plausible deniability.
The most poetic death for trump would be to suffer a stroke at one of his rallies. The stroke hits and he begins to mix up words and blather nonsense. He can sense something is wrong but his bigly words are not working, he tries to tell his faithful what’s happening.
He slurs out, those weren’t the words he wanted, but with neurons misfiring the most used pathways are trying to help. He spends minutes, all recorded for history, dying in front of his bored onlookers unable to ask for help. His years of word salad and lies have finally achieved an awful goal, no one can tell his brain is broken. For this boy that cried wolf a million times, finally the fangs of an enemy he can’t bully or bribe have sunk in deep, years of kfc fried chicken grease now blocking bloodflow to his brain.
It’s only been a few minutes, the crowd awaits some applause or laugh line, but for trump the time feels like an eternity. The pain is increasing, the fear all consuming, he collapses and dies there.
A fitting end to the man whose greatest fear was that people would realize his weird incoherent ramblings were a con.
That’s one way, yes
Personally. The one he deserves is a death in prison, living long enough to see himself forgotten by the world at large.
Ignored, remembered only as a bad taste in one’s mouth, and by history teachers who take a day to mention how awful he was, before moving on to the red scare or something.