As Perfect as it Gets

Lovers of liberty will rejoice that the Trumpster is about as fit as any octogenarian possibly could be whose hollowed-out cranium happens to be farctate with the controlling defecations of a rabid radioactive head-tribble. His legs are swollen from doing a healthy nine miles a day around the golf course, and his hands are world-beatingly bruised from hard-won power-grip victories over Xi Jinping, the head-chopping House of Saud, and Sir Keir Starmer. The imperial physician, Sean Prettybeard, has previously admitted that the Trumpster has ailments; but it seems that these derive from the Grand Orange Physique's immune system reacting to those parts that still retain some vestigial traces of benignity.