It's rare that a real-life villain has his own cartoon castle to call home, but with Mar-a-Lago, Donald Trump has just that: a brick-and-mortar embodiment of all that the hobgoblin developer-king has come to represent. Compared to the rest of his South Florida properties — Trump Hollywood, the Trump National Doral golf course — Mar-a-Lago is downright beautiful, which makes sense considering Trump didn't actually build the castle himself. (That honor goes to Marjorie Merriweather Post, heiress to the Post cereal fortune.) In Trump fashion, he simply paid $10 million for the estate in 1985, ruined some of the gold-plated walls, and installed three bomb shelters on the property. Now, it serves as the capital for Trump's grotesque, Hunter S. Thompson-esque presidential campaign. Dolled-up Palm Beach ghouls wander the halls. A team of mostly foreign workers awaits Trump's every command. And Trump himself sits, eating a steak so hard it could "rock on the plate," as the New York Times put it, waiting for the end of the world.