Donald Trump, King of the Ridunkulous Comb-over, is very upset over his failed transplant attempts. It all started in the sleepy little white-bread town of Rancho Palos Verdes, California, where Trump decided to build a world-class golf course, because that’s what California really needs more of. Initially, the town was tickled to have a piece of the Trump and the obscenely wealthy clientele he would bring, luring them with golf and rolling greens and a 19th hole where you can get hammered on Chivas without cameras around. Also, the town looked forward to sightings of the most recent Mrs. T, with her 15-carat emerald-cut engagement ring and legs for days.

Transplant THIS, Trump.

Transplant THIS, Trump.

Three years after the initial negotiations, the golf course hosted an LPGA tournament, where droves of butch, comfortable-shoe-wearing fans could marvel at the ocean views and the 45,000-square-foot clubhouse.

The town’s enchantment with The Donald waned when he demanded that a street be named after him. Perhaps the Mayor felt “Megalomaniac Boulevard” was too much for his happy little town. Then, as Trump dug his heels in and began suggesting massive changes that would better reflect the “Trump Image”, the town bit back, refusing a few of his requests.

First, the city asked that he remove a row of 12-foot ficus trees that Trump had placed along the course to block the views of “unsightly homes”. Being that the median income for a family in Rancho Palos Verdes is around $100,000, one can only imagine what Trump might find ‘unsightly’. Was it the lack of solid gold fountains adorned with cherubs bearing the face of the Donald, delicately spewing mineral water from ever-pursed golden lips? Was it driveways without Bentleys parked alongside 30-bedroom cottages?

So, the Donald did what the Donald does. He sued. He was especially irate, at one point, at the public school district, which owned a piece of land on which the golf course was built. God knows the way to a town’s heart is to sue for money slated for the already-underpaid educators and the land on which they teach.

After a 1999 landslide that sent property values into the toilet, Trump bought up land like a teenaged girl at Jonas Brothers yard sale. He claimed that he was helping to rebuild the city and they should be grateful, regardless of his requests. Because of the ficus tree transplant issue, along with the ever-growing, seething disdain for All Things Trump, the town is fighting the $100 million dollar lawsuit. Trump claims that the town is doing everything in its power to stop his progress on the golf course. The town counter-claims that he is a wealthy egomaniac and needs to be stopped before their address is changed to Rancho Trumpo, California. Who to side with?

Perhaps the Donald can relent, and allow a slight viewing of the Great Unwashed from the clubhouse. He and his rich friends can, after all, laugh at them easier if they can see them.

Or, perhaps, he can spend some of his billions on the transplants that we’ve been expecting for years. Matthew McConaughey did it. Jeremy Piven did it. Invest in your head, Mr. Trump, so we can start making fun of you for the many other hysterical things about you.