“Can’t you just play golf, Donald?” the hair asked quietly.
“Oh, shut up,” the hat replied. “Let him do what he wants. It’s his vacation.”
“Working vacation,” Donald mumbled, flipping through the photos again on his phone. “I’m working this vacation. Phone calls and meetings.” He was dragging his driver behind him as he walked the green.
“Give your driver to the caddy, Donald,” the hat told him.
“Reince used to be my caddy. He was an OK, caddy. Not the best,” Donald mumbled. He dropped the driver to hold the phone in both of his hands, bring it up close to his face. The hair looked down at the phone from under the hat.
“Donald, you shouldn’t be doing this to yourself,” the hair said. “It’s not healthy.”
“I have perfect health. The best health. My healthy is so classy,” Donald replied absently.
“I want to go fishing,” Donald said.
“You’re playing golf right now,” the hat said, “And you just walked right past your ball.”
“My balls are so healthy,” Donald said, the phone almost touching his nose as he stared into it. “I’ll have my doctor release my testicle report.”
“DONALD!” the hair yelled, “You’re about to walk into a tree!”
“All honest, hardworking trees love my administration,” Donald replied but stopped before hitting the tree.
“You’ve got to snap out of it,” the hat said sternly. “It’s over between the two of you. He’s never coming back.”
“He’s the only man that ever made me feel like a woman,” Donald said quietly.
“I know, Donald. But he’s the President of Russia and you are the President of the United States. You can’t be together like that any longer.”
“Listen to the hair, Donald.”
“I hate golf,” Donald said.
“We’ll go powerboating in Florida next time,” the hat said. “You can run over as many manatees as you feel like.”
“Ocean Rosies,” Donald said wistfully. He let the phone hang at his side.
“Go ahead and put the phone away, Donald,” the hair said. “We are keeping the reporters away, but someone still might see.”
“I have to pee,” Donald said.
“Only one more hole, Donald,” the hat said. “There’s a comfort station after that.”
“I have to pee now,” Donald said petulantly.
“No, Donald,” the hat and hair said simultaneously.
Donald walked behind the tree he was standing in front of an unzipped his pants.
“Donald! Put your penis away!” the hair commanded.
“Don’t press that button,” the hat warned. But it was too late. The erection sequence on Donald’s penis pump was already engaged.
“Bigly,” Donald said. “So bigly.” He began to salivate at the muted sounds of the implanted motor making his penis rigid.
“Goddammit, stop him!” the hat told the hair.
“I can’t! The scalp controls aren’t responding!”
Donald brought the phone up and flipped to his favorite photo.