To win over the support of conservatives, the presumptive Republican nominee needs to do this one thing.
Can I call you “Donald” or must I, too, refer to you as “Mr. Trump?”
I prefer Donald. After all, we know each other, so we can dispense with the formalities. Especially because I’m here to make you an offer you can’t refuse.
This is a chance to make the ultimate statement about your strength as a candidate. A chance to put down this looming delegate revolt faster than you can say “Machiavelli.” And in broad daylight, no less, with the cameras rolling. A chance to finally receive the allegiance from Republicans and conservatives you already think you deserve.
All it requires is just this one, simple move on your part. A gesture, really, which gives you the opportunity to show us once-and-for-all you are the alpha male leader we’ve been looking for. Here’s all you have to do.
Call our bluff.
If you really have all this support, if you really have a mandate from Republican primary voters, and weren’t catapulted this far by upwards of 12 million Democrat crossover voters, then here’s your chance to prove it. To prove your superior intellect, talent, charisma and bravado.
Simply join our call to free the delegates at the convention in Cleveland.
That would be free as in unbound. Totally able, according to the history and bylaws of the Republican Party, to vote for the man or woman who best represents the dictates of their conscience. All you have to do, Donald, is make the case that’s you.
Dazzle us. Mesmerize us. Drop our jaws with delight. Unbound those delegates and show us who’s boss.
Time for your piece de resistance, Donald. Your unchained melody. Your magnum opus. This can be your “Stairway to Heaven” or “Godfather II.”
Demand the RNC, which you now de facto control, help you put the “Make America Great Again” tramp stamp all across this once-fruited plain. Because you keep telling us what a man of the people you truly are, yet all the current polls show you easily losing to Hillary. And the drumbeat for the delegates to cast you aside is steadily growing.
That’s why you gave that prepared speech last week. You are trying to change the narrative and stop the bleeding. But you are playing into the hands of a media that has manipulated you every bit as much as you have manipulated them.
The press plans on keeping Hillary safe and secure in the same kind of spider hole U.S. soldiers once found Saddam Hussein in, so she can’t get out and damage herself. Meanwhile, you get a proctology exam on live TV. All day, every day. Not even your Scottish golf courses are sanctuary.
Furthermore, the system is mocking your lack of organization, fundraising and credible staff. They’re turning you into the Cheetoed Dan Quayle. Just ask your pal, Sarah Palin, what happens once you become a punch line.
Once you go joke, your candidacy goes broke.
Besides, what kind of an alpha male allows an industry of wannabe hipsters, metrosexuals and beta beings turn him into a punch line anyway? Come on, Donald, you like to brag you’re a “counterpuncher.” So throw a counter punch, tough guy. Gamble on yourself by unbounding the delegates and closing the sale in Cleveland with all the world a stage. The biggest reality TV show audience of all time. One ring to rule them all.
Or maybe you’re just all talk? Hiding out behind your incredible shrinking crowds of fans at your dwindling rallies.
Go straight to those delegates, Mr. Trump, before somebody else does. Make them feel as important, secure and dignified as those weird pictures with your teenage daughter sitting on your lap. Exude a level of cosmically impossible confidence like you did when your fake publicist/alter ego was wandering the earth bragging about your yugeness.
This is no time to play it safe or go conventional, Donald. Hard to believe I need to tell you this. Get back to being the guy who, according to recent campaign disclosers, paid $35 grand to a housing address claiming to be an advertising firm named “Draper Sterling” Yes, Donald, it’s high time you went full Madmen!
Take the delegates to a fictional place so audacious that they can’t help but ordain you as a modern Messiah. This is your “They are real, and they’re spectacular!” moment. You’ve taken the strip tease music as far as it will go. Now you have to really show us what you’ve got.
Dazzle us. Mesmerize us. Drop our jaws with delight. Unbound those delegates and show us who’s boss. After all, how are you going to win over a majority of 130 million American voters if you can’t win over a majority of 2500 delegates?
Why on earth would you have taken things this far without saving the best for last? There has to be an Art of the Deal chapter to end all Art of the Deal chapters up your sleeve. C’mon, Donald. Make us feel pretty.
Promise us something so incredible that you never intend to follow through on just because you are confident you can get away with it. That’s the shtick that got you this far. Why wouldn’t the delegates fall for it?
You trust them to cave, don’t you? What a marvelous seduction that would be.
Don’t deny us your greatest, Donald, here at the very end. Stay true to the game you love. Have the courage to demand the world bow before you one last time.
You know you want it.
Unless you really are a coward?