Donald Trump, a man so orange he was once mistaken by a pilot for an air sock, is deciding on a vice-presidential candidate. Let’s take a closer look at the favourites:
Chris Christie. The New Jersey governor has demonstrated an old-school, Smithers-grade sycophancy—one defined by unblinking obedience and a firm belief that the American people aren’t booing, they’re saying Troooo-ump. Added bonus: As a backdrop for speeches, he is cheaper than flags.
Newt Gingrich. Between them, Newt and Donald have been wed six times, reinforcing the view among Republican elites that marriage is a sacred bond between one man and one woman at a time. Gingrich would bring to the ticket a wealth of experience as both a congressman and a wingman.
Bob Corker. The U.S. senator serves as chairman of the powerful foreign relations committee, which means he probably knows the guy in Mexico who signs all the wall-building cheques.
Mary Fallin. The governor of Oklahoma is a staunch conservative who served two terms on Capitol Hill. She’d be a savvy pick because Trump is polling poorly among women. With Fallin on board, he’d be polling poorly only among blacks, whites, Hispanics, millennials, the middle-aged, the wealthy, the poor, the middle class, cats, dogs and Americans.
Tom Brady. The NFL quarterback was an early campaign supporter. Observers believe Brady possesses the one essential quality for serving under Trump: intracranial damage resulting from repeated head trauma.
Hillary Clinton. Trump loves describing his campaign as unorthodox—and what’s further outside the box than inviting your rival to serve on the ticket? She’ll say no, obviously, but faking it will require only three things: a wig, a pantsuit and a Spanxed-up Chris Christie.
Himself. “Vice-presidents are second bananas, and ‘second banana’ is another way of saying ‘first loser.’ No losers in my White House, okay? Besides, I’m not dying in office. I did a terrific deal with Satan—I live to 100 in exchange for complimentary enrolment in Trump U’s bachelor of evil program.”
A dementor from the Harry Potter books. These spectral non-beings drain hope and happiness from the air around them. They’re basically Ted Cruz in a cloak. Downside of choosing a dementor? Thousands of Americans will have their souls consumed and be left in a permanent vegetative state. Upside? Dementors currently have a higher favourability rating than Trump.
A hologram of Reagan. “Can you believe it, folks? Ronald Reagan in the flesh, but not really, but kind of because it looks like him, except we all know he’s dead. By the way, it was very, very expensive—and very tasteful, am I right? We had a version where he flipped the bird when I mentioned Hillary, but I said, ‘No, we’ve got to keep it classy.’ So that’s why you just saw him mooning.”
A Siberian tiger. Pro: What, Americans are not going to vote for a tiger? Con: Immigrant.
Three boys stacked under a trench coat. Sure, it’s obvious to most that the nominee is in fact a trio of pre-pubescents precariously balanced within a London Fog, but Trump likes how they keep calling him “Mister.”
A loaded AR-15. Enlisting a hard-core Second Amendment defender is too subtle. Trump/Bang 2016! If you think about it, Donald has a number of things in common with the weapon of choice for perpetrators of mass shootings. To start with, he too boasts an impressive muzzle velocity—thanks to a design quirk in which words travel out of his mouth without ever passing through his brain.
God. Hear me out: A VP is typically chosen to help balance the ticket, right? A nominee from the north picks a colleague from the south. A charismatic upstart chooses an experienced legislator. Who, then, is more qualified than an infallible, omnipotent being to bolster the candidacy of a clueless ignoramus?
But ultimately, to predict Trump’s actions, we must think like Trump. Above all, Donald will not want to be overshadowed by his selection. The person will therefore need to be less politically skilled, less intelligent and have even smaller hands than Trump. That narrows it down to a choice between a third-grader from Mississippi and Sarah Palin.
It’s a tougher call than you might think. Their speeches to the Republican convention would likely be equally coherent.