James Comey was a little surprised at first when he received Donald Trump’s invitation to join the President for a one-on-one dinner at the Mar-a-Lago. After all, since the whole bit where the two of them had traded barbs like kindergartners going at it on the playground tensions between the President and former FBI director had been a little heated. Nevertheless, Comey accepted and soon found himself stepping into the elaborate Mar-a-Lago dining room.
“Come in, come in,” Trump said, ushering him inside and closing the door behind him, “You didn’t bring anyone with you did you?”
“No I…” Comey started.
“Good. It’s very, very, important that it’s just me and you at this dinner. That’s why I’m making Attorney General Sessions wait outside. Even Vladimir Putin doesn’t get to know what’s about to happen here, and I tell him everything. Trust me. Everything.”
“Mr. Trump,” Comey said, “Let’s not go down this road again.”
“No, no,” Trump said, “It’s different this time, Jim. I’ve got something to show you. It’s ‘uuuuge. The best really. The best.”
Before Comey could protest, Trump had ushered him into a seat. Sitting on the table in front of him was a piece of chocolate colored cake with the words “Top Secret” spelled out across it in red icing.
“What’s this about?” Comey asked.
“The cake!” Trump said, “It’s my best creation yet, and trust me, I’ve had a lot of great creations. Trumps steaks and Trump University were ‘uuge and all, but they’re small potatoes compared to this, Jim. I call it ‘covfefe cake’.”
Comey looked from the cake to Trump’s wide, excited eyes, and back to the cake.
“No one else knew what I meant by covfefe,” Trump continued, “Reince Priebus even told me I wasn’t allowed on Twitter anymore past 1:00 AM, but I knew that if anyone would figure it out it would be you.”
“I didn’t figure anything out, though,” Comey said, “I just came down here because you invited me. I didn’t even…”
“Forget the details. Just try the cake!”
Comey looked back at the cake, focusing on the red icing that spelled “Top Secret”. Reluctantly, he picked up the fork and took a bite of the cake.
“Well?” Trump said.
“It..it tastes like chocolate cake, Mr. President.”
Trump’s face dropped into a scowl, and he turned away from Comey, heading towards the door.
“I knew I made the right choice firing you, Jim,” Trump said as he left, “Any FBI director who can’t tell the difference between chocolate and covfefe isn’t even worth a measly million dollars. You can see yourself out, Jim. I’ve got to go change all the nuclear launch codes to ‘covfefe’.”
Donald Trump and James Comey made the odd pair. As Comey looked back down at the piece of chocolate cake, sighed, and rose from his seat he walked out the door he knowing things would never be the same in the United States.