On the heels of an otherwise perfectly-choreographed PEOTUS press conference yesterday, there seems to be some question this morning regarding the folders.  More specifically, the folders jammed with reams of paper meant to underscore the steadfastness of Messr. Trump’s moral compass.  The blizzard of documentation intended to squelch even the whiff of impropriety.  Don’t even whisper the words “conflict of interest,” or “corruption.”  Come to think of it, don’t you dare even contemplate phrases that rhyme with those words.  Any of those words.  Clearly, Trump’s people are way ahead of you.  And the monument of documents splayed out before the press corps serves as a testament to the diligence and virtue of Trump’s team. End of story.  Move on, people. 

Not satisfied?  Well, what else in the wide wide world of sports would you expect to see in there?  OK, I will humor you ingrates. Allow me to address some theorized possibilities, in the hopes of setting you all straight.

Omarosa Headshot?

This might seem like a logical assumption, since Ms. Manigault was evidently among the boisterously cheering staffers on the press conference’s sidelines, and has been identified as being particularly abusive to that well-known “fake news” outlet, CNN, and its Chief White House Correspondent.  I would argue that Mr. Trump and his crew took it easy on CNN.  He could have raised a leg and kicked over the rectangular tables, spilling 1,032,014 glossy copies of Omarosa Manigault headshots into their laps.  But no, as usual, my PEOTUS took the high road. 

Inspirational Fortune Cookie Fortune?

I am sorry to disappoint all you conspiracy theorists looking to wrap up Mr. Trump’s zeitgeist with a clean little bow.  It is conceivable that Mr. Trump’s many yuge decisions have been guided by Far East wisdom stuffed in high fructose corn syrup crispy goodness. But I have done the math.  No Fortune Cookie manufacturer could possibly have whipped up a sufficient number of cookies with their little policy papers inside in such a short period of time to fill all of those folders.  Please note, however, that Mr. Trump intends to ramp up that manufacturing capacity during the early days of his administration.  Believe me. 

Twitter User Manual?

Manual?  He don’t need no stinkin’ manual!  Mr. Trump is rewriting the rules of the Twitterverse.  Twitter etiquette, common sense digital citizenship?  That’s for you little people; not for my PEOTUS.  Perhaps Mr. Trump’s 34,300 tweets, printed out in toto, would fill up those manilla folder stacks.  But that would be foolish, since his team of brilliant advisors busily deletes and edits those tweets on a regular basis.  Depriving you luddites of the ability to search for imagined inconsistencies and misunderstood racist, bigoted, or misogynistic tweets taken totally out of context. 

Dollars (billions of them)? 

WRONG!  As you well know, Mr. Trump’s wealth is practically unquantifiable.  Too bigly for you to even imagine.  So don’t even try.  Just know that on average, he turns down 3 to 7 one billion-dollar deals before you drag your sorry ass out of bed to clothe, feed and walk to school your insignificant children with weak chins. Trust me. 

Xerox of someone’s butt? 

Absolutely not.  But not because Mr. Trump hasn’t inspired legions of followers who would gladly hop on the copying machine for him on a moment’s notice.  He could shoot someone in the middle of 5th Avenue, and they would all jump right up there, clicking away at that COPY button like telegraph operators.  I would do it for sure.  This theory’s downfall is the image’s subject.  I mean, look at that butt.  Clearly not up to Mr. Trump’s standards.  I mean, gimme a break.  Not to mention, he is not just automatically attracted to the bejeweled back pockets. Oh, and he has too much respect for women.  Yeah, that’s right.  Way too  much respect for women. 

A Prop from “The Shining”? 

An interesting idea.  But a silly one.  First, this is the work product of yet another overrated Hollywood elite-type.  Total loser. Mr. Trump does not need to borrow ideas from that sort of person.  Second, as you all know by now, ordinary typewriter keys are wholly inadequate to accommodate Mr. Trump’s otherworldly digital endowment. Physically impossible. And third, Mr. Trump does not own or use a computer.  What’s that you say, a typewriter is not a computer?  Sit down, I didn’t give you a question.  Don’t be rude.

The Constitution of the United States?

Bingo!  Exactly right.  My sources within the Team Trump confirm that yes, in fact, those folders contain a full and complete copy of the entirety of the U.S. Constitution.  Yep!  How do you like them apples?  How dare you, Mr. and Mrs. Khan, suggest that my PEOTUS has never actually read the Constitution.  I assure you, believe me, he has read every single page.  And to prove it, we’ve assembled photocopies of all 1,032,014 pages — most with Mr. Trump’s personal notations in the margins — right up here on the dais. OK, yes, the gentleman in the back from Heaping Pile of Garbage news outlet?  You say the Constitution is actually just 4 pages of parchment paper? Your organization is terrible, sir, and you are clearly fake news. Sit down.

So there you have it. Now that I have resolved this particular political witch hunt for you, I hope you people are happy.  You’re welcome.

Thanks for reading.