“Because you can’t, Donald,” the hair told him, “It’s just not done.”“Mine is a transformative Presidency,” Donald insisted. The hat chuckled at that. He was hanging off the handle of the President’s Bidet.
“You said I was going to change everything,” Donald said accusingly at the hat.
“You need to be focusing on the Inauguration and the Cabinet confirmation hearings,” the hair said.
“My Inauguration will be perfect. It will be the classiest Inauguration anyone has ever seen. It will make all other Inaugurations look like a small town Kansas pet shelter dog show,” Donald said.
“There are a lot of Democrats vowing to boycott it, Donald,” the hair reminded him.
“Fake news,” the man grumbled, “It’s all fake news.”
There was a soft knock on the door and a woman called his name.
“Go away, Kellyanne!” Donald yelled, “It’s all fake news!”
“The confirmations aren’t going well. They are all going to get in, of course. Even Ben Carson. Christ, what an asshole,” the hair said.
“Ben is a good man. A Christian man. He’ll be the best HUD ever. Ever. Right?” Donald asked.
“Sure, Donald. Sure,” the hat said.
“Nazi Germany had confirmation hearings,” Donald said. “Where’s my Twitter? I need my Twitter! Kellyanne!”
“Two First Ladies?” the hair asked, desperate to derail Donald’s train of thought.
“Yes. Two. Melania and Ivanka are both my ladies. I want them to both be first,” Donald demanded.
“What about Tiffany?” the hair asked.
“She’s like, maybe, fourth or fifth,” Donald muttered.
“She’s weird looking,” the hat observed,” like someone jammed a corn cob up a pug’s butthole.”
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