Even before this, Trump had come to the breaking point with the Counsel’s Office and the Department of Justice, frequently talking before the election of his post-victory plans to replace both Pat Cipollone, the White House counsel, and Bill Barr, the attorney general.

Cipollone, a devout Catholic and pro-life lawyer, had first come to Trump’s attention in 2016, when the conservative radio and television host Laura Ingraham brought him as her uninvited plus-one to a debate-prep session. A dead ringer for Milhouse Van Houten, from The Simpsons, Cipollone replaced—in fact, was one of the few people willing to replace—Don McGahn, the then White House counsel, whom Trump had come to despise. And shortly, he would come to despise Cipollone, too.

In one midsummer encounter, as protests raged in Atlanta, Minneapolis, Portland, and other cities, and with the president watching Fox’s coverage of the rioting on an endless loop, Trump summoned Cipollone to the Oval Office, launching on him as soon as the out-of-breath lawyer (running down from his second-floor office) got to the doorway.

“So, Pat, what have you been doing all day? Like, just tell me, what time did you get in? Filing any lawsuits against Antifa?” His diatribes against Cipollone were traded both as cautionary tales—it could get that bad for anyone, if they weren’t careful—and models of the Trump insult oeuvre.

Barr, too, who had distinguished himself beyond any attorney general in recent history as the president’s accommodating water carrier and whose intervention had arguably saved Trump’s presidency after the Mueller investigation—reading the special counsel’s damning report in the most fulsome way; indeed, reversing its thesis for public consumption—now was the target of a withering attack.

Here was another presidential litany: “Took forever for the IG [Inspector General] report [on the Russian investigation] to come out … Durham [an investigation of the Russian investigation led by John Durham, a federal prosecutor] thing spins on forever … not charging anyone for Black Lives riots … Never took fraud seriously … Doesn’t he get it that this is a massive problem?… What happened to that guy?… I wish I had great lawyers … I have terrible lawyers.”

In a meeting called to mobilize remaining White House and campaign staffers, the attendees arrived in the Oval Office to find the president talking to Elliot Gaiser, a 2016 law school graduate. Not only was Gaiser one of the youngest people on the president’s legal team, but he looked like he was still in high school—junior high even! He had a memo or letter in his hand, and the president was pressing him about it. And now, creating confusion in the room, Trump was pressing everybody else about what to do with it—with everybody else now trying to figure out what the letter was.

“It’s an executive order,” said Trump, “to get the DOJ to take voter action.”

“So, this is from the Counsel’s Office?” asked one of the uncertain staffers.

“No, no, no,” said an anxious Gaiser, holding the page away from him.