Late at night, in the bowels of the White House, a spectral meeting is taking place. It's the weekly poker game of the ghosts of James Buchanan, Millard Fillmore, Franklin Pierce, Andrew Johnson, Warren Harding and Richard Nixon. The Worst Presidents Ever.
"What do you think, gentlemen?" said Buchanan as he cut the cards. "Do you think this Trump will be joining us soon...? You know, I'm no longer the worst president ever. All the historians think he's the worst and he's not even dead yet."
"I expect he might be, what with this bug that's going around," said Harding. "You know, I've been getting grief now for almost a hundred years for my corrupt administration but we were a bunch of Boy Scouts compared to him. It'll be nice to finally move down a couple notches on the Worst Presidents list."
Nixon lit an ectoplasmic cigar. "When I lived here I did have a few problems. It's nice to come back and haunt the place but I hate to see it occupied by such a bunch of low-life grifters. Shit, I never made a nickel off Watergate."
Buchanan dealt the cards. Pierce looked at his hand and shook his head. "Crap, I never had much luck with this game when I was alive, either."
"I got impeached," Johnson said. "I didn't deserve it and I was acquitted. Trump got impeached and acquitted, too, but he committed more impeachable offenses than I ever even thought of. He's damn lucky this Senate had even less balls than mine did. Hell, all I did was try to fire Edwin Stanton. I kind of fucked up Reconstruction, too, but..."
"You were a terrible bigot," said Nixon.
"You should talk," Johnson replied. "I heard those tapes of yours. I wish I'd had tapes in my day."
Fillmore sipped his spectral whiskey and remarked, "Harry Truman once said I was a 'weak, trivial thumb-twaddler who would do nothing to offend anyone.' I'm still not speaking to him. But at least I was never a fucking Russian spy."
Nixon said, "We were all shitty presidents. But when Trump arrives I don't think I want him in this game. He'll cheat, for one thing. And he's an asshole."
Buchanan said, "Not only that, but he'll bluster and brag. The man has no class. I don't mind if that little Bush fella joins us someday; he's dumb and he's probably a terrible poker player but he knows some good jokes. By the way, Dick, you were an asshole, too."
"When Bush comes maybe I'll get to win once in awhile," said Pierce.
"Let's have a toast to me. I'm no longer considered the worst president in American history. Trump's got me beat by a country mile. I look like fucking Abe Lincoln next to him," said Buchanan. At that moment Abraham Lincoln briefly materialized and said, "No, Jim, you really don't," and vanished just as quickly. Buchanan sighed and muttered under his breath, "Damn, Abe still thinks he's all that..."
"I fold," said Pierce. "Trump. What a dick. He's already turned out to be way worse than any of us ever were. We merely sucked. He's....."
Nixon said, "That fat fucker is a disgrace even to us, the worst presidents ever. I don't want to wait until he's dead to tell him what's what, since none of the Republicans are gonna do it. Honestly, even the ratfuckers who worked for me aren't as bad as these guys. Too bad about my old pal Roger Stone, though. You know, I don't even want to play poker with Trump when he croaks. We should haunt him now."
Harding replied, "Brilliant! Let's do it!" He tried to fist-bump Nixon, but because he was made of ectoplasm the gesture was futile.
And so the ghosts of the Worst American Presidents started appearing to Trump in various places in the White House. Pierce tried to moon him but because he was transparent the gesture was not very effective. Although they enjoyed slipping through walls and making obscene gestures, after awhile the ghosts gave up and went back to their poker game because Trump was going batshit crazy without their help.
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