Picture this:
Donald Trump as a baboon, sporting a ridiculous mane of fur, pacing back and forth in front of the other baboons. He's yelling about how great he is, claiming he has the best teeth in the troop and that no one can challenge his superiority. Every time another baboon gets close to challenging him, he puffs out his chest and makes grand gestures, demanding the others "respect the brand."
He's constantly pointing out how much better his territory is compared to the others, trying to secure the best food spots and comfy resting spots. Meanwhile, he’s got his loyal followers—baboon yes-men—who nod vigorously at his every word, even if it’s just a series of confused, repetitive grunts. The rest of the troop watches with a mix of amusement and annoyance, secretly plotting to oust him if they ever get the chance.
Imagine him trying to make alliances by tossing out wild, extravagant promises like, "If I’m the leader, I’ll make sure all the bananas are the best bananas. Trust me, folks, you won’t find better bananas anywhere!"
