“Now say ‘You will endorse me!’” the hat whispered.
“You will endorse me!” Donald said.
“Now hit him with the chair leg again,” the hat said. He made his adjustable strap caress the back of Donald’s head lovingly.
Donald swung the chair leg and caught Christopher on the right side, below the ribs. Pain burst in his body like fireworks shoved in a cake.
“You like that, fat boy? You like that, Mr. Chunky Monkey?” Donald yelled hoarsely.
“Mr. Chunky Monkey?” the hair asked.
“I don’t know,” the hat said. “He just comes up with shit like that sometimes.”
“You want a banana?” Donald asked, prodding Christopher’s bleeding anus with the ragged end of the chair leg. “You want a fucking plantain? I can get a plantain, you know!”
“Slow down there, buddy,” the hair told Donald. “Maybe take a minute.”
“You pie-eating piece of shit! Endorse me! ENDORSE ME! I’m going to be your fucking President, burrito buffet! I CAN DO ANYTHING!” Donald began kicking Christopher in the perineum, wing-tips buried into taint over and over again.
“Donald! Stop!” the hat pleaded.
“Donald! Don’t kill him!” the hair begged.
“BRING ME DISCO FRIES!” the candidate screamed.