The United States is sending this 80-year-old man with a limited vocabulary, face painted in orange pigment, hand bruises covered in caked makeup, girdled pants, and hair that is indescribable, overseas to high level meetings with world leaders, ostensibly to speak to America's interests.
But all he will do - like he always does - is insist that up is down and bad is good, and he is smart and they are not, and he will recite grandiose claims of wars he thinks he has ended, he will insult his predecessors, and then - in incomplete and broken sentences - he will rant, ramble, and riff ... it might start on subjects of global import but will descend to windmills, witch hunts, whales, water pressure, and whatever, and the audience will roll their eyes collectively.
He will make a few veiled threats, and then - perhaps - dangle a proposition or a concept of a proposition, filled with hyperbole, which enriches his oligarchy, presented as an opportunity, which all should abide because he is competent and smart, and the audience's eyes will almost roll out of their sockets.
The world leaders that are the recipients of all this are respectful and smiling on the outside but making fun of him privately at every turn. Each and every one of them knows they cannot trust the 80-year-old man, knows that the 80-year-old man is ill and in decline, susceptible to praise and grift, and they know that if they wait it out a little longer, the 80-year-old man will be gone, and they'll have a more comfortable and less risky discourse with someone else soon.