The hat enjoyed being peed on but the hair did not.
Donald watched them both--one happy, one upset--as the four Russian girls squatted to urinate on them. A fifth girl rubbed Donald bald head with her ponderous breasts, occasionally enveloping his head on both sides, making him go deaf as supple boobmeat filled his ears. It wasn't an act on the hotel menu but rather something she had come up with herself. Donald planned on tipping her well.
"Now on each other!" Donald ordered, yelling so he could hear himself. The hissing streams of warm gold splashed against legs, still managing to spatter all over the hat and the hair. The hair groaned.
"Why does he have to include us?" the hair asked the hat.
"Because he loves us," the hat replied. "HE LOVES US!"