An oracle provides insight to Trump

Dear President Trump,

Last night, I had a dream and I thought I should alert you.

In the dream, you and I were kicked back in the oval office like we were old pals. After a few niceties and the usual T & A jokes, I cut to the chase. “Why the hell did you call me in, you know I hate this place.”

You said, “Well, no one hates it more than me.”

Then I said, “But, bro—I mean, Mr. President, why summon me of all people?”

You sighed heavily, “Well, Buck, the people…they really love me, so I gotta give them another term. But the doctors tell me I’m not so well now.”

Mr. President, in the dream, I sure felt sorry for your ass, especially considering how nasty things were at the White House, how you said everyone hates everyone else and they’re all vying to step into your shoes once the good Lord takes you.

Then you said, no one could ever fill your shoes. I agreed. That’s when you got mighty somber and said, “What troubles me, Buck, is I have to make nice you know, I have to give ‘em what they want but I don’t like the way things are going. I really don’t … so that’s why I brought you here. You know I’ve always counted on you for your smarts.”

“So you want to hear from the Oracle.” I said.

You replied, “Do you think she’ll still talk to me? I haven’t exactly been a boy scout.”

At that exact moment I got real dizzy. It was a sure sign the Oracle was now present so, once I grounded myself, the Oracle spoke through me, and you, Mr. President, appeared to be on the edge of your seat:

“Let us attend…” there was a brief pause of dead silence. “We in our realm are most aware of your two biggest fears, son: one, not getting into heaven, and two, not going down in history as the greatest president ever.”

You nodded in agreement.

The Oracle continued to speak through me, “But since you asked for insight, I’m obliged to reveal the truth and nothing but the truth: At this moment, neither of these hopes is in the cards for you, but redemption is still possible.”

“What do you mean by redemption?” you asked.

“It means you must do everything possible to unite the country” said the Oracle.

You seemed pleasantly surprised and exclaimed, “That’s it? Okay, good. Tell me how.” But the Oracle said nothing.

You bowed your head and grumbled, “Do I have to stop lying?” The Oracle again said nothing. So you looked at me for a response, but I could say nothing since the Oracle was still present.

Then you said, “Do I have to tell them the 2020 election wasn’t stolen after all?”

The Oracle spoke. “A televised confession from the oval office is a good starting point.”

You shook your head and said, “Not gonna happen. I don’t see what good that would do.”

The Oracle said, “You will go down in history for being the first president ever, of any country, to tell the truth. That will give you the greatness you seek. But there’s still the matter of getting into heaven. Only uniting the country will bring you to the pearly gates.”

That rattled you, and you argued you weren’t a magician and only a miracle could unite all the stupid people of this country. Then the Oracle said, “The miracle has been put squarely into your hands, Mr. President. It’s time to release the Epstein files.”

That’s when I woke up, Sir. I hope I haven't offended you.

Sincerely,
Buck Wilson

P.S. I'm publishing this on Youtropolis as my wish that you fulfill the Oracle’s advice as stated above.