Monday, October 26, 2015


“Yeah, baby. Flip it. Flip that pancake, bitch. One side is all toasty, the other all gooey. Aw, yeah… gooey.”

“Will you shut up? He’s trying to concentrate,” Donald’s hair told Donald’s hat.

“Maybe he should concentrate on that huge boner he got shaking hands outside,” the hat said, giggling uncontrollably.

“I don’t know why you think it’s so funny. It happens every time.”

“Press the flesh,” the hat managed, gasping for air with his little hat lungs. “I’m going to wrap a gooey pancake around that dick and fuck one of these MILFs.”

“I hate Iowa,” Donald’s hair said. “The whole state smells like Walmart wiped its ass with it. But I think New Hampshire might be worse. Clean air, wholesome people, trees. I fucking loathe trees. Oh, shit… here comes that asshole Lauer.”

“You know, rumor has it that he’s been fucking Natalie for years,” the hat whispered.

“You’re shitting me.”

“No, seriously. One of her kids even looks just like him. Oh, man. I’d love to bust her taco. I’d put my spicy sauce in her, fill her up like jizz barge.”

“You don’t even have a penis.”

“Neither do you, faggot.”

“I’m not a fag, you’re the fag. Adjustable strap faggot.”

“I hope he drops you in a toilet again,” the hat hissed.

“I hope you’re donated to the National Presidential Museum of Huge Faggotry. I hope a janitor jacks off into you and there’s blood in it.”

“That’s it, motherfucker. This is happening right fucking now!”

Donald’s hat and hair began to fight on top of his head, grunting and cursing. Donald’s hand clamped down on them, but Lauer’s eyes were wild with fright.

“Stupid wind,” Donald said. “When America is great again, I’m going to get rid of wind. Except for kites. Kite wind is OK. I love kites. You and Natalie ever fly kites together? Does her pussy taste like fajitas?”

“You’re worse than Biden,” Lauer said. “At least he only tries to touch my dick.”

Thursday, October 22, 2015

We Defy Augury

“You don’t have to do this,” Joe pleaded as Hillary shackled his left leg. “I did what you wanted. You saw the news conference!”

“Too late! Too late! You lingered like the stink you leave in Amtrak bathrooms!” She moved in, the hot corruption of her breath in his face.

“Good old Joe,” she whispered. “Everyone loves Joe. Everyone loves Joe’s wife.” She pulled off his tie and slit the neck and arms of his sweat-stained dress shirt.

“Everyone love Joe’s kids, especially the dead one.” Hillary gathered up the crotch fabric on his dress pants and pulled. She used the razor to cut along the inseam on both sides and then ripped them off his waist. Joe began to sob.

“No one loves Hillary’s beautiful baby, not even that moron we paid very well to marry her and knock her up. Why is it, Joe? Why does everyone love you so much?” She cut his boxers off and stuffed them in his mouth.

“This is some fucked up shit, yo,” Donald’s hat whispered.

“Shut up you idiot. She might hear you,” his hair replied.

“I don’t know why I have to be here,” Donald said, to no one. Hillary turned on him, slashing the air with the razor.

“Because I want you here. I want you to witness what happens to those who betray me!” she screamed. She pounced on Joe and sliced off his right nipple with a single motion of the blade. He screamed through his underwear. She picked the nipple off the floor and ate it.

“Um. Meaty. I wonder what other parts of you are good?” She squatted in front of him and smelled his genitals intently, like a dog getting that last whiff of old piss from a hydrant.

“God, Joe. You’re balls smell so good. Like honey and old Bibles.” She made a small, careful cut along the seam of his scrotum and licked. “But your blood, Joe. Not so good. Are you dying Joe? That would be a real fucking shame, right, Donald?”

“Yes, Mommy. Whatever you say,” Donald said. He farted wetly and a long string of anal beads clattered on the warehouse floor.

“Pick those up!” Hillary screamed, her pendulous breasts wobbling with rage.

“Yes, Mommy.”

“You know what, Joe?” she asked, turning back to him. “You did do what I asked. Maybe a little late, maybe not when I told you too, but you did OK. I think you deserve a reward.” Joe’s eyes went wide with terror. He began struggling to free himself, straining at the shackles.

“Yeah, Joe. You know what’s coming, don’t you? You’re going to get the ass, Joe.” She turned and bent over. Joe screamed again, a pathetic sound. Underneath it Donald could hear the eager gnashing as she backed toward him.

“I wish he had left me in the car,” the hat said.

“He never leaves me in the car,” the hair moaned.

“Who said that?!?” Hillary screeched. In the rafters of the warehouse a bird died and fell to the floor.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015


“It’s gonna be YUUUGE! YUUUGE! I swear! But it might take a minute!” Donald rasped. His hair smirked at his limp penis.

“It’s fine,” Hillary said. “It happens to all guys. Just hurry up. I can only act like this is a faggoty-ass pancake breakfast for so long before the Benghazi Committee will add it to the agenda.” She toyed with Donald’s ball cap, twirling it around her finger.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” the hat moaned.

“I guarantee you won’t be the first thing that’s ever thrown up in this chick’s lap,” Donald’s hair said.

“Am I at least doing a good job, Mommy?” Donald asked. “Am I distracting them like you and Daddy told me too?”

“Yes, Donny. You’re doing a very good job of being a dumbass,” Hillary told him. “And you’re going to be ‘yuge,’ I promise.” She threw the hat down and parted her vast thicket of pubic hair. Her labia parted with the sad grumble of old Velcro and her gnarled clitoris emerged. “Does this help? Are you getting hard, Donny?”

“I’ll get hard for you, Mommy. Donny will get YUUUGE for Mommy!”

“This is disgusting,” his hair said.

“It really is,” said the hat from the floor. “At least I’m half under the bed. All I have to see is her horrible thighs. They’re quivering, dude. Quivering.”

“I really hope he doesn’t go down on her,” the hair said. “It smells like a litter box down there.”

“I’m trying to CONCENTRATE!” Donald yelled at them both.

“I know you are,” Hillary said. “Mommy is very proud of you.” She lifted her legs for him and farted like a startled trumpet.

“OH GOD, YES!” Donald gurgled and sucked in the miasma.

“What in the name of all holy fuck does this old whore eat?” Donald’s hair managed.

“Huma,” the hat chortled. “And whatever rancid cockcheese Michelle leaves all over Barry.”

“Oh, fuck. Don’t make me laugh,” the hair choked out. “It’s so thick up here I swear I can taste it.”

“You don’t have a tongue,” the hat said.

“You think that matters? You get up here and soak in the hot garbage coming out of her horrid nethers for a while.”

“Please be quiet,” Donald whispered.

“What was that?” Hillary asked, looking up from her phone.

“Nothing, Mommy,” Donald said. He began to twirl his flaccid tycoon like a lasso, hoping to rouse it from its frightened slumber.