'da boy's iggerance is bigger than a Mega-sun in a far-galaxy and, can ya imagine anyone (of that 'hue') workin in the All-White-House ..to bring the slow-one up-to-speed?
('Course ..We! the-proud, the-occasionally-Blaring erstwhile Buglers would ROFL shouting ¡Ay! Caramba and cracking jillions of piñatas in the appropriate orange-effigy. you betcha.

(Bet that few knew that: there exists a bugler-code via which troop movements can be controlled..) brief descending/ascending tones as deliver the usual Sgt.-barked shouts ..to a fare-thee-well. I quite recall the giddiness--as a tyke, being given the 'orders' via our local CIEIO--of Moi-in-fing-COMMAND! {sigh}

POWER. Corrupts. ..shit.. (didn't learn that 'til quite later). Amazing though..
ya could Order a 'right-flank' ... send a whole squadroon ... over. the. cliff.
(Allus lurved that great-Taps ..after Maggio's assassination in, From Here to Eternity {{sob}}

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Verily I say unto thee:
See? ^this^ IS the kind-of-shit ever and always rampant within the typ-Repo-brain-pan.

And Now: They've come for US. Quelle surprise.