A Sure Thing
On a sunny afternoon at the golf course, President Trump is playing golf, surrounded by his secret service agents. Two of them, Agent Smith and Agent Johnson, stand nearby, quietly discussing recent developments.
Agent Smith: (whispering) Did you hear about Trump's latest executive order? He's started carrying the "Nuclear Golfball" in his bag with the rest of the Titlists.
Agent Johnson: He's going to hit it into a water hazard, bet.
Agent Smith: You're on. Imagine that to play out. I bet he'll swap it out with another ball when he "finds" it on the edge of the fairway.
Agent Johnson: Sure, then take a "gimme" putt and nuke Norway on a par 3! Bet.
Trump curses and they watch a particularly wild shot that lands in a sand trap.
Agent Smith: Well, there's another possibility – Nuclear standoff with Iran and Trump can't shoot his way out of a bunker. Bet.
Agent Johnson: Bet! Knowing Trump, he'd probably claim it never happened on his watch.
Just then, Trump's ball lands in the water hazard, and the agents exchange glances.
Agent Smith: He's in the water, fuck!
Agent Johnson: OH NO! He definitely armed it! At least you won't be fighting wasteland zombies long, I'll be prepping in style if he shoots another 18-holes.
Agent Smith: Yeah, yeah, very funny, here's your Doomsday Dollars you lucky S.O.B.
Agent Johnson: Next hole he comes back with a range ball and we go broken arrow over the Diving range, bet!
As the agents chuckle, Trump calls out for assistance.
Trump: (yelling) Hey, you guys! I need some help over here!
Agent Johnson: Alright, I'll go deal with "Mr.President's" denial of reality.
Agent Johnson walks over to help Trump, rolls his pants cuffs up and wades barefoot into the swamps of Mar a Lago to search for lost "Nuclear Launch codes."
And that's how America will saved from certain nuclear annihilation – through the power of democracy, a lost election, and the watchful eyes of two secret service agents with a keen sense of humor, and the ability to humor a despotic delusional madman. Bet.