From the moment they hugged, the bromance of Donald Trump and Kanye West was doomed.

Jared Kushner is pacing the floor of Trump Tower waiting for the pandemonium to begin. His father-in-law just got a call from Kanye West, hoping he could drop in and have a chat. And much to his displeasure, The Donald has agreed.

“Isn’t that great,” Trump told him through a menacing orange smile. “I love that guy. He just says what he wants when he wants,” he continues, struggling to slide his Blackberry into this jacket pocket.

“Hey, Melania,” Donald screams in the vague direction of his statuesque third wife. “Write that down, will you? ‘What he wants, when he wants.’ That’s a good campaign slogan, right? We could use that when we run for second term,” he says seriously, smiling at Kushner once more. Melania nods, smiling  the smile of a woman truly dead inside, and reaches for a pen and paper.

"I love that guy," Trump says.

What it is that West wants to chat about exactly, Kushner can't be sure. But one thing he does know is that it's sure to be less a meeting of great minds than it is a festival of idiocies. Words, words, many words, words bouncing everywhere, Kushner thinks to himself while raising his head to the ceiling and sighing loudly.

Just when he's thinking about giving it all up and moving Ivanka and the kids to Bermuda for good, the elevator doors open and his wife appears by his side. She's scanning the tiny space frantically, her Instagram poised at the ready. A group of non-descript minders pile out, with West being the final man out.

Looking to his wife sadly, Kushner whispers, "she's not here. I'm so sorry, honey."

One is the loneliest selfie number. Source: Instagram.

Dejected at the loss of a photo-op with Kim, Ivanka slinks off to another wing of the apartment and Kushner steps forward to shake Kanye's hand.

Just as he's about to speak, Trump walks forward and side-steps him, embracing the rapper in a hug.

"Did I do the homie thing okay?" Donald asks Kanye seriously. "I've been practising that you know, the bro embrace," he says staring at Kanye for some sign of recognition.

Kanye laughs awkwardly, and at this point, it's hard to know where this will go. Kushner looks to the ceiling once more, thinking about the engulfing inertia of it all.

"I didn't get out of the hospital to deal with this shit," Kanye tells Kushner.

Moving to the lounge room, Kushner sees Kanye looking around the palatial space, taking in the gaudy declarations of wealth that adorn his father-in-law's home. "You know, for someone who hates China, you've sure got a lot of it in your house," Kanye says laughing, clearly impressed with his own comedy.

Confused, Donald replies, "oh, yeah, but I hate the country, not the plates. I love the plates," he continues.

Sitting in a pair of Baroque-style armchairs, Donald asks, "so what can I do for you, Kanye? Can I call you Kanye?"

Smiling, the rapper replies, "yeah, you can call me Kanye."

Shifting in his truly uncomfortable chair, West says, "I'd like to talk to you about multiculturalism in this country and how we go about creating change, Mr President. There are serious problems facing this country, problems that have been around since before I was born, and now is the time to change them. Look at the violence in places like Chicago - it's a nightmare for people living there. Americans shouldn't be living like that. We need better schools, better teachers, better homes for kids to return to each day," he begins passionately. "I'm here because I want to talk to you. These problems have been going on for too long and they can't continue. We need to enact change. You can be the president that changes the world."

"Woah, woah. Slow down, cowboy."

Gulping, Kushner looks to Donald and sees him nodding solemnly like one of those $2 puppies people stick to their car dashboards. Like trying to catch a freefalling glass about to smash everywhere, he feels as though he's about to vomit. This is not what Kanye was supposed to be discussing with his father-in-law. They were not ready for this. And now, he can see Donald is about to respond.

"I see that, I see that," Trump says still nodding. "But tell me something. How come you get to say whatever you want on Twitter and I can't?"

Now Kanye is the one confused. "Excuse me, Mr President?"

"Please, call me Donald," he says smiling.

"Twitter. You go on these crazy internet rants all the time and no one's getting mad at you or saying you're friends with Russia, but when I do it, all hell breaks loose."

Clearly unsure of how to respond, Kanye hesitates before saying, "well, Mr President, I mean, Donald... I guess it's because you're... you know, the President. And even when you weren't the President, you were running for President. So, you know, people have a certain expectation. But, you know, Twitter can be tough," he says finally, throwing the old man a bone.

I'm listening, but not really listening.

"And what about SNL?" Trump says standing from his chair, clearly now on a roll.

"They seem to love you over there, but me... all they do is roast me. I mean that Alec Baldwin, he's really somethin' isn't he?" Trump says, clearly not asking a question at all. "They just think they're so funny with their fake tan and their cheap suits and their pouty lips. I mean, really, who would ever wear a suit that cheap?" he asks.

Finally, something the pair can agree on.

"Yeah, the suits there are cheap," Kanye agrees. "But they're a good group of people."

It's clear to Kushner that Kanye is yet to realise that the man set to be the 45th president of the United States of America is much like a sedated mountain bear. For a while, the drugs work and he cooperates, but the more the sedation wears off, the more nonsensical his ramblings become. Right now, Kushner thinks, they're at peak wearing off period.

"I miss my wife."

Looking around in frustration, West tries to push on, "Mr President, I'm keen to talk more about the points I raised earlier."

But just as Trump starts to speak one of the non-descript minders steps in and says that their time is up.

"Ah, too bad," Trump says raising his hands in a 'whaddya-gonna-do-about-it' kind of a way. "15 minutes is 15 minutes, right? Come on," he says standing, "I'll walk you out."


In the elevator, Trump begins the conversation again.

"Hey, Jared tells me you're a fashion guy?"

Kushner can now see Kanye looking to him, clearly infuriated that he's bothered crossing midtown afternoon traffic for this.

"Yeah, I'm a fashion guy," Kanye responds deadpan.

"Oh, that's great," Trump goes on, inexplicably unable to read the funeral-like sensation engulfing the elevator's tiny space.

"I mean c'mon, they're just not that small."

"You know, Ivanka does fashion stuff, but truth be told it's not doing so great right now. Jared," Trump says looking back at Kushner, "maybe Kanye could help out with Ivanka's line? Pimp it up or something? Make it more street," he says optimistically. "But as a fashion guy, can I ask you a question?" Trump says returning to West.

Not bothering to wait for an answer, Trump whispers, "this suit. What do you think about it? Do my thumbs look big in this suit?"

Unable to hold it in, Kanye laughs loudly. "Seriously?" he asks.

Looking hurt, Trump says, "well, you say you're a fashion guy. And as your future president, I'm asking you, do you my thumbs look big in this?" Pausing he begins to wiggle his disproportionately small thumbs in the air and begins to twirl around like a pageant girl on show.

So much to talk about, so little time.

Kushner waits for a joking laugh from his father-in-law that never comes.

Looking down at his feet, Kanye responds, "sure. I mean, yes, Mr President. Your thumbs look huge in that suit."

Finally, they reach the ground floor and the elevator doors open. The pair pose for photos while being flung questions from the media. Kushner can tell that West is furious, refusing to say anything to anyone.

Moments later, Kushner finds himself waving goodbye to the superstar, hustling the man he now bears a legal link to bank into the elevator once more. He isn't sure how much longer he can go on like this. The questions of idiocy, his refusal to attend briefings, the unwavering dedication to cheap steaks.

Smile, though your heart is breaking. Smile, even though it's aching.

"Hey, Jared," Trump yells breaking the elevator ride's silence. "Be sure to send him and the kids some hats, will you? And can you ask the chef if my fries are ready? I need a snack."

Exiting the lift, Kushner looks ahead of him to see his father-in-law smiling from ear to ear. "My big thumbs suit," he murmurs to himself while stroking the fabric on his forearms with glee.

On the verge of hopeless tears, Kushner lets out a loud sigh once more and decides to go find his wife.

Disclaimer: This article is intended to be tongue-in-cheek. I'm just a big fan of American politics, The Apprentice, Kanye West and scenarios that may or may not ever occur in real life.