Conspiracy Theory?

I've been trying to figure out "Why?": 

Trump and his MAGA minions are "hoping" (more accurately, "fixing") to prove, through the Fulton County, Georgia files, that he "won" the 2020 election. Based on this "scam," he will claim that he is currently (or should be) serving his "third" term; therefore, as a form of legal loophole, he and his bootlickers are hoping to void the 22nd Amendment so that he can run again and remain president. [I don't think this is in any way legally viable... but stranger shit has been happening and Trump and his handlers have all the pieces in place.]

Directed by Shorty Yeaworth

Trump is an invasive species. 

Obviously, he severely impacts my waking days... but he also influences my sleep where I have regular nightmares/anxiety dreams about or featuring him. They're too absurdist or boring to normally recount... but last night's was symbolic: I was trapped in a shopping mall desperately trying to escape when a militaristic security detail aggressively pushed me into Sharper Image. There he sat in a gaudy wheelchair and all he asked was, "Am I the best president ever?"

Threatened by his goons, I panickingly searched for a safe response: "Maybe, if you could find a way to be more compassionate and kind, you might be considered a 'consequential' president. I don't know." But the word "kind" had a a physical affect on him and he started to turn into a gelatinous pile. So, I kept at it, pleading with him to find any ounce of humanity... and he continued to turn into a spineless heap until he slid off his wheelchair -- a slithering mass of goo.

As he seeped over my feet, I was unable to move... and as the Blob started to envelop me, I awoke in a sweat.

He's a monster, a B-movie monster.