Everyone knows Trump loves real estate deals, but his most infamous negotiation happened at a hotel— an awkward dinner with Stormy Daniels, who quickly realized “Art of the Deal” didn’t cover room service, marriage vows, or reality TV casting couches.

After their alleged 2006 encounter, Stormy figured the story would stay in the past, somewhere between the laundry pile and Trump’s red ties. But 2016 rolled around, and suddenly Trump’s campaign was less about “Make America Great Again,” but more about “Make The Hooker Disappear.”

In comes Michael Cohen, Trump’s “fixer.” Cohen entered like a low-rent Bond villain wielding a checkbook, offering Stormy $130,000 in “hush money”—the only time an adult film star was paid to keep her mouth shut. “It’s not a bribe!” Cohen insisted. “It’s an extremely fancy NDA, plus cab fare!”

While most scandals involve Swiss bank accounts, this one revolved around monthly installments disguised as “legal services.” Trump, asked if the records were falsified, said, “Absolutely not!  “It was just an advance for her upcoming book: ‘Fifty Shades of Orange’—nothing scandalous!”

The courtroom rolled in the isles. Order in the court was restored, but as the verdict came down—guilty on all counts—one thing was clear: sometimes the cover-up is juicier than the affair.

Now, as Trump’s team tries again to get that guilty verdict tossed, Stormy Daniels is just hoping her next courtroom visit comes with popcorn—because at this point, the only thing longer than the legal battle is judge Braggs long sigh and comment “Oh! Shit!”, every time she and Trump walk back in.