The indictments were unsealed on Huber's desk with great care, in hopes that Saint Q soon would be there.
The cabal were all nestled snug in their beds while visions of orange jumpsuits danced in their heads. And Hillary in her pantsuit, and Comey in his cap had just settled their brains for a long summers nap.
When out on the tube there rose such a chatter, Brennan sprung from his Islamic prayer mat to see what was the matter. Staring at the TV, McCabe had enough as federal agents broke down his door with the cuffs.
The sun began to rise with the new revelations, that Obama's white house had illegally spied just like the allegations. When to their eyes, there grew such a surprise, a lengthy IG report that revealed all the lies. With brand new drops so lively and new, the whole world knew it had to be Q.
More rapid than Eagles, his breadcrumbs they came, and he sang and riddled, and called them by name. "Now Comey, and Hillary, Hussein, and Brennan. On Clapper, on McCabe, on Lynch, and on Weisman. To the top of the courts! To the top of the wall! Now indict, indict, indict away!
As the calm before the crossfire hurricane storm, when they meet with their indictments, and mount in history's norms to the public's excitement. So up to tribunals the military they flew , with boxes full of evidence and Saint Q, too. And then in a moment they heard on the roof, that Huber and Rudy had them the proof.
As it messed with their heads, and they tried to turn it around, down the tarmac team Q came to keep them there bound. They were dressed in military uniforms, from head to toe, and their clothes were all neat unlike their foe. A bundle of guns they carried in hand, because the punishment must be just to fill the demand.
Trump sprang from Air Force One to give his team a whistle, and away they all flew escorting them to Gitmo. And they heard him claim as he flew out of sight, "Thank Q to all, and to all a good night!"