An open letter to Michael Cohen:
Sir, let me be clear from the outset that none of the following advice, though it may help your situation, is offered out of regard for your well-being. I consider you a slug with very bad taste in sport coats.
No, I offer you an alternative, not to shorten your stay in a federal lockup, but to encourage you to spill your rancid guts to Robert Mueller and help him put your boss, the Donald, so far back into the catacombs of Marion that they have to pipe sunshine in to keep him from growing moss.
Let's keep this simple so even your reptilian cerebral cortex can absorb some of it: can you name one person who has worked with or for Trump (let's drop that obsequious "Mr. Trump" crap, ok?) upon whom he has not eventually shat? Is there anyone, wives included, who he did not toss under the Greyhound as soon as he was finished using them? Guess what?
He's finished using you.
All I'm really suggesting is that, since you obviously admire the man (GAG!), why not emulate him? Treat him the way you KNOW he would treat you if he was in your shoes and you in his: TELL MUELLER EVERYTHING---EVERY DEAL WITH PUTIN, EVERY LAUNDERED BILLION, EVERY ABORTION, EVERY THUG HIRED TO INYIMIDATE SOMEONE---everything, Mikey.
Or, not. Who knows? You may find fulfillment working in the prison laundry for several decades.