Estimated reading time: 4 minutes
In a plot twist that’s less shocking than finding out your sushi was actually day-old gas station fare, Allen Weisselberg, the former CFO of the Trump Organization, is getting a slap on the wrist, albeit in the form of jail time, for singing like a canary – but only after being caught. It’s the sort of tale that makes you go “Huh, so that happened,” as you realize that the wheels of justice grind slower than my grandmother making her own peanut butter. But grind they do, presenting the delightful spectacle of a man who handled Trump’s cash having to handle his own defense.
The Breakdown:
- Learning the ABCs – Always Be Confessing (to lesser crimes):
Weisselberg has graced our comedic stages by essentially taking a master class in plea deals. The lesson? Confess to less, get a reduced sentence. It’s bargain hunting for the legally besieged. - A Fool and His Loyalty Are Soon Parted:
After years of manifesting unswerving fidelity to the Trump brand, Weisselberg realizes that in court, loyalty is as valuable as Enron stock. It turns out, unsurprisingly, that the prosecution doesn’t accept loyalty points. - Orange is the New Orange:
We’re not talking about a fashion statement here. Weisselberg could be trading his bespoke suits for the kind of orange you can’t claim on your taxes – though I’m sure he’d try if he could. - A Long Walk off a Short Pier with Concrete Shoes:
When the water’s rising, and your feet are encased in concrete, you might want to consider swimming lessons – or, in Weisselberg’s case, cutting a deal to reduce his time with the fishes (read: in jail). - The Art of the Squeal:
Clearly, Weisselberg didn’t read the right Trump book. Instead of ‘The Art of the Deal,’ he went full circle into ‘The Art of the Squeal,’ divulging enough to stay somewhat afloat. He’s the remix of a whistleblower – a whistle-bargainer.
The Counter:
- Become a Jailhouse Rock Star:
Maybe Weisselberg’s stint in the clinker is just a wild ploy to jumpstart a late-in-life music career. Picture the former CFO penning bluesy ballads about unrequited love and unfiled tax returns. - Monopoly Man Goes to Jail:
Just like in the game of Monopoly, Weisselberg thought he had a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card. He’d pass ‘Go,’ collect his $200, and keep on trucking. Sadly, the only trucking he’s doing now is likely with a laundry cart — inside. - Silver Fox Gets Caged:
It’s important to remember that jail can be a place of reflection, personal growth, and ruthless cafeteria trade. Perhaps Weisselberg will impart financial wisdom to his fellow inmates, like the savviest of accountants turned jailbirds. - From Penthouse to Big House:
Some may accuse Weisselberg of simply exploring ‘alternative housing.’ Condos are so passé when you can have the kind of steel-bar windows that really say ‘security feature.’ - Binge-Watching ‘Law & Order’ Comes in Handy:
Clearly, Weisselberg’s thought all those evenings spent binge-watching courtroom dramas would prepare him for the legal proceedings. Spoiler alert: reality is less episodic and doesn’t wrap up neatly in an hour with commercial breaks.
The Hot Take:
In light of Weisselberg’s sticky wicket, it’s time for the classic liberal fix-it-all: a deeply involved government-sponsored program. Let’s introduce “Perjurers Anonymous” – support groups for those who just can’t help but lie under oath. They’ll come for the coffee and stay for the riveting tales of tax evasion and contractual deception. And for every check-in, they get a stamp towards a reduced sentence. It’s the ultimate liberal twofer: rehabilitation and bureaucracy!
If that doesn’t cut it, we’ll draft legislation for a new reality TV show where indicted corporate offenders compete in “The Biggest Loser: White Collar Edition.” The prize? Reduced prison sentences and a picture with a cardboard cutout of Lady Justice. This’ll teach them the value of truth, justice, and the American way – with commercial breaks, of course. In a country where reality TV can make a President, let’s use it to rehabilitate our perjurers.
Source: Ex-Trump CFO Allen Weisselberg to be sentenced for perjury, faces second stint in jail
