"Not guilty, muthafuckas!” the hat said, strolling into the Oval-Office-in-exile, flip-flops slapping against...

“Do it,” the hat whispered from Donald’s suit pocket, quiet yet insistent. “Do it.” “No!” the hair said....

  “Hang Mike Pence! Hang Mike Pence!” the hat chanted as it inched across the Resolute desk. “It’s been...

  “The Georgia Senate races!” the hat squealed, flying across the Oval Office like a crippled frisbee....

  “Twenty-two days left,” the hair said. “The Kraken,” the hat groaned feebly. “It’s over,” the hair...

  We find the hat on the Resolute desk looking glum. Outside, the wind is making a sepulchral moan as it...