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Him tingle for he was to have the honor of defending the Southern cause. Dreaming of plantations human bondage and an autocratic slave state, Jeff Sessions would fire the last shots of the Confederacy. He dipped his quill in the inkwell and crafted his Tweet. Dixie swelled in
his mind’s ear. The stars and bars ruffled softly in the album of his memories. He was pleased. He defended the traitors, racebaited and just for a second imagined himself behind the big desk. The one Jeff Davis Himself used in Richmond. President Sessions.
Guten tag, here is your unroll: @SteveSchmidtSES: .@jeffsessions woke early and was dressed in his finest Grey dress uniform. The epaulets came from… https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1272184296707633152.html … See you soon. 
Please finish this screenplay.
Where do you think it should go next. Sweet tea on the veranda or cigars with the gentleman in the map room
Jeff Sessions is as much a cultural relic as Trump.
This Jeff Sessions fanfic is lit.
One of Steve Schmidt's more eloquent sarcasms of late--Colonel Sanders, oops, Sessions has been defrocked!
No truer words were ever spoken. Bravo
You have made my day!!!!
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