Friday, January 20, 2017

Inauguration Day, Pt. 2

“Inauguration,” Donald grumbled, “That’s a dumb word.”

“In means the formal ceremony for the beginning of something, especially a time in office,” the hair told him. The hat laughed from his display stand.

“I know that,” Donald snapped. But he didn’t. He really didn’t. “It’s still a dumb word.”

Donald turned in his closet mirrors to look at his new suit, his inauguration suit. It was perfect and classy and the best and a committee of a dozen top-ranked gays had picked it out for him. The hair longed to adjust the pocket square, but just shivered in irritation instead.

“It comes from augur in Latin,” the hair continued, ignoring them both. “In Ancient Rome, augurs were the priests who interpreted the will of the gods by studying the flight patterns of birds.”

“Look at Mr. Wiki-fag-opedia over here,” the hat.

“Birds?” Donald snorted. “Romans didn’t even have Twitter, so what do they know?”

There was a knock on the closet door. “Downold? Are vou reedy?” came Melania’s voice.

“Well, fuck. Dracula Hooker is here,” the hat said.

“Just tell her you almost are,” the hair told Donald.

“I almost am,” Donald said.

“It ees almost time to go,” she whined like a beaten cur.

“Tell her to fuck off, Donald,” the hat said.

“Fuck off, Donald!” Donald yelled through the closet door. Melania spat out a vile stream of Slovak gibberish as they could hear her heels clacking away.

“Have you got your Bible,” Donald the hair asked him after the three of them stopped laughing.

“Yeah, whatever,” he replied.

“But you need it for the swearing in,” the hair said.

“I want to swear on something I actually believe in, like The Art of the Deal or Ivanka’s boob,” Donald said.

“Donald!” the hat said sharply. “No groping today. No. Bad Donald!”

“Just the right one,” the orange billionaire mused. “The left one is sort of meh.”

“Donald,” the hat and the hair both said.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, cutting them off.

Donald turned in his dressing closet, eight full-length mirrors surrounding him. Infinties of Donalds stretched out in every direction and all he could do was laugh.

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