Dream: Through Constitutional succession, I have become President. No one in either branch of Congress is at all happy about it. Some of them don’t even believe it.

My first actions are to revamp the White House web site with news feeds and some of my handwritten documents from college. Once I have posted it, I realize many of my early writings have the word “fucking” in them, and that everyone in the country can see it, so I then set out to redact the documents using a pencil.

Two of the fields in my new White House web site feature live webcams from mentally challenged friends to whom I have given pointless jobs on dogsled teams in the Canadian tundra.

The Speaker of the House comes to me angrily and demands that I prove to him that I am now President. As we enter the Capitol building, we see a hastily-arranged joint session about to meet on my behalf. The Republican members all wear gold mylar uniforms, and democrats all wear blue mylar uniforms. The Republicans are all wearing neckties, and some of the Democrats have babies with them.

Dressed like Steve Jobs, I use a wireless mic, and make an impassioned speech about how I’m going to solve everyone’s problems, and now wish to be called “The Leader.”