When hinges creak in doorless chambers, and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls. Whenever candlelights flicker where the air is deathly still. That is the time when ghosts are present, practicing their terror with ghoulish delight!
So this silly bitch Jim Comey starts investigating Hillary Clinton for her shitty handling of emails back in summer 2016. Just before the election rolls into town, he decides to send a letter to Congress saying, “Oh shit, son, we got a pantload of new emails to look at!” Then three days before the election, he shrugs that shit off with “Eh, we just found some cat GIFs and pics of Anthony Weiner’s dick, which is sad but not illegal.” But it doesn’t matter – everyone thinks Hillary Clinton is the Baba Yaga of emails at this point. Trump wins the election.
Word spreads pretty quick that Trump may have some ties to Russia, whom we now suspect meddled in the election worse than Scooby and the gang meddled in the day-to-day business affairs of your average haunted amusement park. And by “some ties,” I mean everyone Trump has appointed, worked with, met, or looked at is probably a sleeper Russian agent who, when given the signal, will together form Mecha-Putin. So Comey heads up an investigation into the Trump/Russia ties, and along the way Sally Yates gets fired, and so does Preet Bharara – both of whom are looking into Team Trump’s connections to Russia. Well ain’t that a bitch?
Then in comes Trump out of the blue with the firing of Comey, claiming it was because of how he dealt with the emails months previously – something which Trump publicly praised Comey for at the time.