Donald Trump woke up at the witching hour and hurriedly grabbing onto his cell phone situated right next to his son Barron's favorite stuffed animal, a pink and yellow and green striped zebra, began tweeting -
Coffvvee cofffzee, I want my morning coffzxvee and that's an order. A priest called and told me he heard a loud voice from heaven scream - THIS IS GOD ABOVE SPEAKING AND I ORDER ALL OF YOU TO RECOGNIZE THAT DONALD TRUMP SIMPLY DOES NOT POLITICALLY EXIST IN OUR UNIVERSE. So I, The Donald, tweeted back and told him that neither he, that sock-puppet-named priest, nor God, exists.
There is a two minute lapse and the phone lights up.
YOU DON'T POLITICALLY EXIST, YOU ORANGE MORON. THIS IS GOD. AND THE WAY YOU SPELL THAT BOOZE YOU DRINK CONSTANTLY IS COFFEE. GET IT RIGHT. HOP TO IT. - GOD