“Omarosa, my sweet dark berry…” Donald whispered.

“She recorded you, Donald,” the hat said in a low Iago hiss.

“Maybe she just wanted to hear my voice again,” Donald said.

“Recorded, Donald, like with a machine,” the hat said. “She tried to Nixon you, bro.”

“But I didn’t fire her, The General fired her, I didn’t have anything to do with it. I don’t know why she’s so mad at me. She was my chocolate Wonder Girl…”

“She looks like a man, Donald, a big black man in lipstick and a wig.”

“You just don’t like strong women,” Donald pouted.

“I just like my women to not have a penis,” the hat said.

The hair snorted from the floor.

“She didn’t have a penis,” Donald insisted. “She didn’t. She was the sweetest pink inside.”

“They’re all pink inside, Donald, and they will all betray you in the end… Ivana, Marla, Stormy, Karen… all whores, Donald.”

“And she said I said the bad word,” Donald whined. He turned to the side in his office chair and pulled his legs in. He was pantless and his scrotum swayed queasily above the hair as it struggled to inch away.

“Mark says he destroyed the tapes, Donald,” the hat said.

“There are no tapes,” Donald said. “There never were any tapes. I would never say the bad word. It’s bad word.”

“Of course not, Donald,” the hat said.

“The bad word isn’t even in my vocabulary,” Donald whispered. “Donald would never call someone a n[beep]r.”

“You don’t have to beep it out, Donald,” the hat said. “It’s just us here. And we’ve looked everywhere for recording devices.”

“I didn’t beep it out,” Donald said, shaking, his balls quivering.

“You said ‘beep’, Donald,” the hat said. “I heard you.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Donald said, getting angry. He stood up suddenly, his shirttails mercifully swinging down to hide his penis. “If I want to say ‘n[beep]r,’ I say ‘n[beep]r.’”

“What the fuck⸮” the hair asked.

“N[beep]R!” Donald yelled. “N[beep]R! N[beep]R! N[beep]R! N[beep]R! N[beep]R! What is happening‽”

The hair spread himself flat on the floor like a threatened starfish.

“Donald, it’s just a word,” the hat said. “Stop self-censoring.”

“I’m not!” Donald screeched. He began running in circles around his desk, yelling “N[beep]R! N[beep]R! N[beep]R!” while his penis flapped against his gunt and grundle forlornly.

“N[beep]R!” the hat said. “Oh, no! It’s me too! What the hell is going on‽” he screamed in horror.

“N[beep]r,” Donald said helplessly and slumped to the floor. “N[beep]r,” he said quietly and began to weep.

The hair bunched into a loose ball and let the air conditioner floor vents roll him gently out of the room.