The Voice of The People

Freshly laundered, sanitized, washed again by hand and radiation sterilized, the hair and hat rode proudly into Iowa atop a beaming Donald, freshly laundered, sterilized and tranquilized himself.

As the limo cruised to the first stop, the hair whispered, afraid of being overheard by the crushing array of aides that had stuffed themselves into the car with their deranged god, "Just kiss the babies, Donald. Just a simple kiss. No tongue this time."

"But they are delicious," Donald rumbled.

"Dammit," the hat said. "You want a baby we'll get you one after the caucus. Eat it, serb it, sacrifice it to Aqua Buddha, who cares? Just hold it together today."

An aide threw a hand towel over Donald's erection and dialed back his Cialis pump with a smartphone app.

"Let me out of here!" Donald screamed suddenly. "LET ME OUT!"

"We're almost there, Mr. Trump," another aide said. He had a jet injector full of ketamine at the ready.

"I AM THE VOICE OF THE PEOPLE!" Donald wailed.

"Look at his alpha waves. They're like the goddamn Andes!" a technician squealed.

"Hit him! HIT HIM!" another screamed.

"Donald, straighten up," the hair said. "We got important shit today."

"OK," Donald said in a small voice. "Will Mommy be there?"

"No, Donald," the hat told him.

The limo slowed to a stop in front of a sea of old white people. Donald reached for the door handle.

"Remember, Donald... sic transit gloria," the hair whispered.

Donald said, "Don't you dare speak Mexican to me."