Joe Biden has achieved a massive comeback in the Democratic primary. Many supporters of the former vice president relish the prospect of leaving someone more subdued in the White House for a while so they can tune out. But these voters, in seeking a calmer, drama-free political landscape in the years ahead may, in fact, be about to put themselves, and the nation, through a political psycho-drama without precedent.

Biden is so old that no president ever has finished a term at the age he would begin his. His mental acuity is constantly being questioned, there is open speculation about dementia, and given the various scenarios this could lead to under the 25th Amendment, his presidency would quite likely be a source of the kind of anxious preoccupation his supporters and voting base are desperate to be rid of.

The scenarios depicted below illustrate two things. First, the "return to normalcy" rationale for Biden’s presidency is just as likely to deliver its opposite: a long period of tumult and disruption. And second, the Constitution could be tested to its limit, in ways we’ve never seen before, but it could ultimately withstand the pressure.

Here, then, are the scenarios.

Halfway through his presidential term, resting up after a strenuous midterm election campaign, Biden has been given an ordered regime, relying increasingly on a teleprompter, set piece events, prerecorded interviews, and a sympathetic media. Nonetheless, there is acute concern about the issue of cognitive decline.

Beyond the usual gaffes and blurry conflations, there are now troubling public dissociative spells, moments of short-term memory loss, slurred speech, and other symptoms of faltering mental acuity. In an appearance on Jimmy Kimmel to herald the implementation of the new healthcare public option, the 80-year-old president looks thin and diminished and is often lost in digression. Several months later, as his condition deteriorates, heavy-hearted staff within the administration come to a consensus that it is in the national interest to invoke the 25th Amendment.

The administration has prepared for such an eventuality. After all, during the 2020 campaign, the vice-presidential nominee was questioned extensively by journalists, and at the vice presidential debate, about the realistic scenario of their acceding to the presidency.

The electorate as a whole is bracing for the possibility of some significant decline or major episode incapacitating the president, given his age. In these unprecedented circumstances, the vice president is solicited incessantly for her opinions, is briefed with intelligence reports with greater regularity than most vice presidents. She is courted by foreign heads of state and their emissaries. Events to which a Democratic vice president is usually dispatched funerals, environmental activist meetings, and union gatherings — have a slightly heightened air of portent.

Since the beginning of the administration, the presidential and vice-presidential offices, in conjunction with the chief of staff, have liaised several times to discuss protocols under various scenarios relating to Section 3 of the 25th Amendment, which says that a president can declare himself "unable to discharge the powers and duties of his office." He must say this in a written letter to both the president pro tempore of the Senate and the speaker of the House of Representatives. Once the president does this, the vice president becomes acting president.

This is the scenario everyone has prepared for. Faced with the apparent cognitive decline of the president, and the full and permanent cession of presidential power, the variables are whether the president wishes to deliver a prime-time address, and the length of the interval between the departing president's remarks and the vice president’s succession, with its choreographed sequence: a photographed swearing in, presided over by Chief Justice John Roberts, a public appearance, reflecting respectfully on the agonizing decision reached by Biden, and declaring a full assumption of power.

But unfortunately, the Section 3 scenario that everyone has prepared for is not the one under consideration. Instead, everyone is contending with the worst-case scenario: the invocation of Section 4, in which a president is removed from power involuntarily, two camps form. One, comprising Biden and his inner circle, see no genuine grounds for his ouster. He and his loyalists contest this constitutional maneuver, considering his condition to be manageable, comparable to the late-term President Ronald Reagan and hardly in the category of a post-stroke President Woodrow Wilson. Some consider it more suitable for the vice president’s duties and influence to increase and the president's to proportionally diminish while retaining their positions and Biden still having the final say on principal decisions and the broad contours of strategy.

Nevertheless, a majority of the Cabinet sides with the other faction. They formally sign and submit a letter declaring the president unable to perform his duties. The vice president then becomes the acting president. As this process is taking place, a pall settles on the divided administration. There is much communication between the camps, including meetings and phone calls between the president and vice president. Surrogates appear on news broadcasts to emphasize the high esteem in which Biden is held, to convey that the acting president understands the sensitivity and gravity of the moment, and to reiterate that the constitutional safeguards are being legitimately invoked.

A chaotic 24 hours then unfold, during which Biden, spurred on by his inner circle, reclaims the presidency by submitting a letter of his own to the president pro tempore of the Senate and the speaker of the House, as he is constitutionally entitled to do under Section 4. This is followed a few hours later by the vice president and a majority of the Cabinet submitting yet another letter, stating they still consider the president incapacitated, and challenging his return.

In this scenario, presidential power would technically change hands three times in the space of an afternoon. Biden's camp would dispatch its own surrogates to the media, primed with talking points. Biden has been counted out before and proved the critics and the media wrong. His mental acuity has been brought up from day one of the administration, and yet, U.S. workers are benefiting from his infrastructure package and other legislative accomplishments.

Congress, which is not in session, is summoned and given 21 days to make an official decision. Given the lack of guidelines as to how this might work, the House speaker schedules one-on-one meetings between Biden and committee chair and factional caucus representatives. Right-wing media and many members of Congress, concerned that the impasse lays the nation vulnerable geopolitically, are asking for more concrete measures: psychometric evaluations, brain-scans, and cognitive assessments. Public polling indicates a preference for this approach.

The president's inner circle, fearing an undignified process and concerned over a neurologist's private diagnosis, informs their boss that the diagnostic results are not encouraging and that the odds of his retention by the House are fading.

The next evening, the outgoing president delivers a composed and sincere prime-time address, reflecting on a lifetime of public service and confirming that he is stepping down. As a matter of honor, and for the sake of the historical record, Article 4 has been symbolically withdrawn, allowing the departing president to save face by formally invoking Section 3.

Ten minutes later, as he is bidding farewell to White House staff and prepares to fly with his wife Jill to Andrews Air Force Base and on to Delaware, the vice president is sworn in as the 47th president of the United States.

Nicholas Sheppard is a freelance writer.