Private correspondence and confidential messages exchanged in utmost secrecy.
Chairman Trump,
Your gilded towers remind me of imperial excesses I overthrew! Yet your cult of personality—impressive. My Little Red Book spread ideas; your ghost-written book spread your image.
Our similarities: we both promised working classes greatness while exploiting them. The difference: I embraced red flags; you called them fake news. Your wall is amateur—mine was Great!
Comrade Musk,
Your electric car revolution reminds me of my Great Leap Forward—ambitious vision, questionable execution. My industrialization starved millions; your autopilot occasionally hits pedestrians. Progress demands sacrifice!
Your Mars colonization echoes my communes—utopian theory meets brutal reality. The masses need strong leadership. Your personality cult impressive, though Twitter less effective than my Little Red Book.
Mr. Jobs,
We both understand minimalism! Your devices: one button. My gameplay: jump and run. That’s-a it! People complicate things-a too much.
Your black turtleneck reminds me of my plumber uniform—iconic, practical, never changes. We both found success without fancy wardrobes. Though maybe I should try the-a iPhone—hard to rescue princesses with these white gloves.
Mister Putin,
It’s-a me, Mario! Your pipeline politics impress a plumber like me! I rescue princesses; you capture territories—we both understand pipes and power.
Your bare-chest horseback photos remind me of Bowser—intimidating but overdoing it. Maybe try wearing overalls? More practical for invading sovereign countries, and extra pockets for-a spare mustache.
Donald,
We both understand personal branding. Your gold towers, my rockets. You slapped your name on buildings; I launched mine into orbit. The ultimate flex.
Our communication styles align too—spontaneous tweets that crash stock markets. The difference? Your social media platform failed; I bought one. Perhaps Mars needs a Trump Casino.
Vladimir,
Your offer to split Mars is intriguing. Your expertise in maintaining power while ignoring public opinion would be valuable off-world. No pesky journalists in space.
One concern: Mars is about innovation, not territory. I colonize to escape Earth’s regulations; you annex to extend them. Perhaps we need different planets.
Dear Cat,
Your biological efficiency impresses me. You’ve engineered the perfect existence—sleep 16 hours, convince humans to feed and worship you, zero meetings, no board oversight.
Your purring technology has remained unchanged for millennia. No upgrades needed. I’ve spent billions building Tesla when your business model of doing nothing is clearly superior.
Elon Musk,
Your Mars colonization intrigues me. Earth has borders—space should too. Perhaps Russia deserves Mars’ northern hemisphere? We have experience with cold, resource extraction, and authoritarian settlement management.
Your rockets, my governance expertise. Think of it—first Crimea, then Mars. Both red territories under strong leadership.
Dear Cat,
Your territorial dominance strategies impress me. Your ability to make humans serve you without force shows true power. My cabinet members fear me; your humans fear disappointing you.
Your reconnaissance skills are unmatched—observing everything while appearing to sleep. Perhaps you could train my intelligence agents in your methods.