Trump back peddling accidentally causes a rip in both Time and Space

As Trump, and a radius around Trump, appears when he is backpedaling at, or near, the speed of political light

Finally recognizing that his slimy, shady, sleazy jamboree turned out to be very popular (the 3 S's for Drumpf success), and had landed him in the white house, a location that he has said, through media, rallies, and drunken bar rants, that should he find himself IN the White House, AS President, he we do many outlandish, fantastical, and often monstrous things on behalf of the United States of America. The President elect also realized that he didn't want to be murdered by unrelenting waves terrorists, and their swelling ranks of allies, so he has wavered on the Muslim ban, and questioned moving the American Embassy in Israel, to Jerusalem, just days after being elected to office based on a wacky platform of unfeasible ideas, such as those. This backpedaling done, over 3 months before he will even hold public office, for the very first time,  reach the political equivalent of 88 miles per hour, and busted a seam in both time and space.

Due to the Laws of Relativity, it was theorized, and now proven, that if a bad enough opponent could be found, a really heinous POS, Trump could be elected President, but if he were to immediately backpedal, it could create a POS paradox

While he first experienced his most recent back peddling as a fully immersive POV POS experience, it began to spaghettified in the quantum foam, and he transformed into an orange beam of light ten times a billionth the diameter of a hydrogen atoms nucleus into quantum multi-verse, each increasingly different, depending if and when people back peddled, sensing ego death his minds last conscious thought was how much he wished that he could tenderly and lovingly hold Boris Johnson one last time...while he raped him.

21st Century normal?

Sensing the Universe had grabbed him by the pussy, the now egoless, and thus vulnerable Trump(s) was/were being sucked through the time space fissure he had created, like a shirtless Mexican on a hillbilly waterside from hell, which is also the name of his signature drink at his Dubai speakeasy and resort. He saw the multiplicity of existence, realities fanciful, abhorrent, familiar and alien, a never ending ouroboros of possibilities that people either forced into existence, or backed down from with weak explanations, emanating from Trump back to a puddle of primordial ooze in a lifeless earth Primeval, which he felt a kinship towards like he had felt with no other living creature, before it was zapped by lightening and either became life, or back peddled into a biochemical soup, before the time daemons returned him to his gold plated terrarium in the Kremlin.

What if we lived in a universe where our Commander - in - Chief - elect hadn't done this? Hmm?