I wonder if trump himself adored Lewis as a child and osmotically absorbed his affects, only to completely forget the source as his childish soul and sense of joy slowly withered away.
“Doctor, I’m depressed,” the small-fingered man says; I’ve made everyone’s life harsh, unforgiving, cruel.”
The doctor lights up. The treatment, after all, is simple. “The great clown trump is in town tonight,” the doctor says, “Go and see him! That should sort you out.”
The man bursts into tears. “But doctor,” he says, “I am trump.”
