The studio is dim and empty except for two merciless cameras aimed at a pair of aged candidates targeted by two serious interrogators.

“President Biden,” says the female journalist, “many people, including your wife and closest advisors, are concerned that you are weak and descending into senility.”

He looks a foot over the wrong camera and says, “That’s ridiculous, I’ve masterminded the slaughter of a generation of young Ukrainian men and supplied the money and weapons needed by our Israeli comrades to annihilate tens of thousands of Palestinian women and children in Gaza. Let’s see anyone else pull that off…”

“Are you comfortable with those policies?” she asks.

Mouth ajar, Joe Biden gazes into space.

“You still have more than a minute, President Biden,” says the female.

“Ah, let’s see, I’m sharp as can be and still a hell of an athlete. I had a six handicap when I was vice president. I damn sure could outdrive Donald Trump.”

“Your response, President Trump,” says the male journalist.

Trump cuts a sealed-lips smile and says, “What a joke. Have you seen his swing? He’s a hacker and couldn’t break a hundred on any course. I’d outdrive him by two hundred yards. You’re an old man, Joe.”

“Okay, fatso, let’s meet at the driving range early in the morning. You carry your golf bag and I’ll carry mine. For me, that’s no problem. I work out and am fit as hell. You’re still a slob, I see.”

“You lie so much, Joe. I’m the lightest I’ve been in years and still the most athletic president in the history of this nation that was great when I was president but that you’ve destroyed. I built the greatest economy in history and sealed our southern border and there were no wars when I was in charge. Joe’s brought us unprecedented inflation and endless waves of criminal aliens and a world stumbling toward really big wars.”

Pointing a shaky hand at Trump, Biden says, “This guy sleeps with porn stars and has the morals of an alley cat.”

“I didn’t sleep with a porn star. Besides, you better worry about the criminal behavior of your family.”

“Don’t interrupt. I’m talking.”

“My microphone was open during a free exchange,” says Trump.

“Listen, our economy’s in great shape. Don’t worry, inflation will come down. And my opponent’s lying about the border. I’ve more or less got it under control. It was chaotic when he was president, too. And internationally, I’ve been a foreign policy expert since this guy started ripping off workers and filing bankruptcies years ago. I’m helping the Ukrainians defend their freedom after the ruthless invasion by his hero, Vladimir Putin of Russia. And I’m helping our strongest ally in the Middle East, Benjamin Netanyahu, protect himself against those who escaped from the Gaza ghetto, which the Israelis were trying to improve, and attacked and slaughtered innocent Israeli citizens on October seventh last year.”

“I got along great with Putin, far better than you, Joe. But he knew not to mess with me. He’d never have invaded Ukraine if I’d been president, which I’d still be if you hadn’t rigged the last election. And in Gaza, no way Hamas would’ve attacked Israel if I’d been commander in chief. Everyone knew not to trifle with Trump. I’m as tough as Joe is weak.”

Joe Biden, mouth easing open, stares at fingers in front of his face.

“Mr. President,” the female says. “President Biden. Can you hear me?”

He looks at her and says, “Sure. Go ahead. Ask me anything.”