47 MINUTES WITH 47

The White House gave me 47 minutes. Not because the president was “No. 47” or because he only grants interviews in oddly branded time blocks — no, it was because I showed up at 4:13 and The Five was coming on at 5 o’clock. That was the window. Forty-seven minutes to make sense of the most powerful man on Earth and whatever parallel reality he’s currently building out of Diet Coke, executive orders, and a U.S. Space Force badge. What followed wasn’t an interview. It was survival.

WILDE (narration): He didn’t even blink. I hadn’t finished the question before he sat forward, like I’d just handed him a blank executive order and a permanent marker.

WILDE: If you could annex one U.S. state—just take it, absorb it, make it yours—which would it be and why?

TRUMP: Great question. Fantastic question. Nobody’s ever asked me that, which is crazy, because I’ve thought about it. The answer’s obvious: California. Not all of it—just the parts with the good weather, the money, and the golf courses.

People say, “Sir, why California?” And I say, “Because it needs me.” It’s like a billionaire’s mansion with squatters in it. I’d clean it up—quick. Hollywood would be great again. I’d rename it Trumpifornia. Bigger beaches. Better wine. Everyone gets one of those Make Surfing Great Again hats. And the taxes? Gone. We replace them with good vibrations. Just pure American vibes.

The governor? Don’t worry, I’d relocate him. Delaware. It’s quiet. No cameras. Like getting voted off the island, but with more toll booths.

WILDE: Is there a secret handshake between billionaires, or just an understanding?

TRUMP: There’s no handshake. That’s amateur stuff. It’s a look. You walk into a room, you give The Look. You tilt your head, just slightly — like this — and if he tilts back, boom — you know he’s real money. No need for words. And if he doesn’t tilt? Not a billionaire. Probably works in tech.

Now I say no handshake — but let’s be honest, a handshake tells you everything. Everything. I once shook Macron’s hand for eight minutes straight. He was trying to assert dominance, but he couldn’t last. He blinked. He folded. That was the beginning of the end for Macron.

Trudeau? Frighteningly gentle. Like shaking hands with a vegan yoga instructor. You can’t run a country like that. When I shake a hand, I shake to win.

WILDE (narration): The room shimmered with gold—curtains, lamp bases, the chairs, a golden pen holder that looked like it had its own ego. It was less Oval Office and more Pharaoh’s tomb. I started to worry I’d be buried alive with him when the interview ended.

WILDE: Do you ever look at the Lincoln Memorial and think, “Nice try”?

TRUMP: Great monument — very tall. Very dramatic. But let’s be honest — he’s sitting the whole time. I stand. I move. People say, “Sir, Lincoln was serious.” I say, “I’m seriously better.” They don’t put crowds in stone, do they? If they did, mine would wrap around the Reflecting Pool twice.

Now, if they ever do a Trump memorial — and they will, people are already talking — I don’t want to be sitting. I want to be pointing. Like this — (he points) — like I just spotted fake news in the distance. That’s a power pose. That’s leadership. Lincoln had a beard. I had a movement.

WILDE: Do you think history remembers the loudest man in the room, or just the one with the most gold furnishings?

TRUMP: Both. And ideally, they’re the same guy. Look, I’ve always said — volume matters, but so does ambiance. You can be loud, but if you’re loud in a cheap room, you’re just yelling. If you’re loud in a room with gold trim, custom carpet, and lighting that makes you look like destiny? That’s history. That’s legacy.

People say Lincoln was quiet, sure, but have you seen his furniture? Very sad. Very wooden. I’ve got

gold drapes that cost more than CNN’s ad revenue during my trial. And let me tell you — people remember that. They walk into a room I’ve designed and they think, “Someone important exploded here.” That’s the goal.

We stopped here to keep you wanting more. Don’t make us regret it.