It was barely a week into Trump’s presidency, and already the White House staff was on edge. The halls, normally bustling with the usual back-and-forth of political maneuvering, had a new rhythm: a mix of frustration and fear, punctuated by occasional mutterings of “Elon Musk, that damn guy.”

Musk, as he always did, had shown up out of nowhere—this time in the middle of a meeting about... well, honestly, no one quite knew what it was about. It didn’t matter. It was Elon Musk, and that meant things were about to get weird.

"Alright, folks," Trump said, flipping through a pile of papers, "we’ve got some important discussions on space, energy, the economy. Lots of big things."

Just then, the door swung open with dramatic flair.

Musk, in his signature black hoodie and jeans, strolled in holding a model of a rocket.

"Sorry I’m late, gentlemen," Musk said nonchalantly, looking around the room. "I was just working on a few things... like colonizing Mars and figuring out how to replace all of these with a self-driving model."

He pointed vaguely at the White House staff, who now looked like they’d been hit by a wave of mild panic.

Trump, ever the showman, grinned. “Elon, you’re exactly the kind of guy I need! You’re, uh, a... maverick. A real go-getter.”

Musk nodded. “Well, I’ve been thinking. I could help you make America really great again. By the way, I’m considering buying Tick-Tok. You want in on that?”

The room went dead silent. White House aides exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of confusion and dread.

The press secretary, who was still half-drunk on coffee, leaned over to whisper, “Did he just say he’s buying Tick-Tok? Like... right now?”

"Yeah, I think so," another aide whispered back. “Should we... do we need to stop him?”

Musk plopped down in a chair, pulling out a tablet. "So, I’ve been thinking about this whole electric car thing, right? What if we could make the White House electric? I mean, we already have the power grid hooked up—why not a Tesla oval office?"

Trump, looking slightly concerned but mostly intrigued, raised an eyebrow. “Electric, huh? You think the Secret Service would be okay with that?”

Musk waved a hand dismissively. "We can throw in a few flamethrowers for safety. Totally legit."

The aides groaned collectively. They were about to lose their jobs. It was inevitable.

And then, just as quickly as Musk had appeared, he stood up, shaking his head. "One more thing before I go—have you guys thought about Mars? I’m not saying we should start over, but I think it's got potential. You could... I don't know... maybe build a better government there."

Trump, now 100% sold on the idea, slapped the table. “See, I knew I liked you! Mars! I’m calling it—Mars is going to be the next big thing. Who needs Washington when we can have the Trump colony!”

Musk grinned, already halfway out the door. "I’ll start drawing up the plans. Just let me know if you need rockets... or more awkward meetings."

The door slammed behind him, and the staff was left in stunned silence.

The press secretary, now visibly sweating, turned to his colleague. “How are we going to spin this one?”

“Spin it? We can’t spin it. The man just single-handedly set the White House back by decades and is now trying to colonize space. What do we even do with that?”

And with that, the White House staff had their answer: They were definitely not prepared for Elon Musk.