“They will never impeach me,” Donald said.
“Of course not,” the hat grunted.
“Nancy said they would never impeach me,” Donald said. He was looking out the Oval Office window to the lawn below, brown and dead, winter grass waiting for Spring.
“Yeah, oh yeah, that’s it,” the hat said and gasped.
“You’re disgusting,” the hair told the hat. He hissed in revulsion.
“You,” the hat said, between thrusts, “Just wish you could. Swerve. Like. Me.”
“Do you have to do that on the desk?” the hair asked.
“They dig the desk. It gets them hot,” the hat said. “Roll over, girl.” He moved off the pummelo wrapped in gaffer’s tape and nudged it with his bill until it rolled away on the desk. “Not so fast,” the hat said lasciviously, ”I’m not done with you yet.”
“They will never impeach me,” Donald said again. The hair scampered off his head and settled on his shoulder.
“There was no collusion,” Donald whispered. “No collusion. This is all Presidential Harassment.”
“It’s your #metoo moment, Donald,” the hat said, engulfing the fruit once more.
“I never slept with her!” Donald said quickly, turning, waving his hands at the hat. “I do not have a deformed penis. My penis is bigly and yuge and so classy.”
“OK, Donald,” the hair said soothingly.
“I’ll pull it out right now and you can see,” Donald said, reaching for the closure on his Sansabelt slacks. “It will blind you with style!”
“Oh, god, no, Donald, no,” the hair said.
“I’m trying for a little citrus delight here, dude,” the hat said. He began humping away again at the bound fruit.
“Uh, sir?” Sarah asked from the Oval Office couch. “Is everything alright, Mr. President?”
The hair scrambled onto the top of his head as Donald buttoned his pants back. “Everything is fine, Pie. Just fine. Great. Tremendous. No impeachment, no collusion.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “That was my plan for the press announcement.”
“It’s good to have you back out there, Pie,” Donald said, wiping his hands on his shirt. “Out on the front lines, in the trenches, battling the enemy of the people.” Donald paused to mime firing a machine gun and said, “Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat.” Sarah could see the saliva flying from his mouth in the sunlight streaming in from the window.
Donald sat down beside her and said, “Remember: no collusion, no impeachment.”
“No collusion, no impeachment,” she repeated.
“Donald! Hey, Donald!” the hat cried out excitedly. Donald waved him away as he leaned against Sarah.
“Oh, Pie,” he said. “It’s so lonely being me.”
“Yes, Mr. President,” she said, squirming as his hot McDonald’s breath rushed into her cleavage.
“No one understands but you,” he said. “Never leave me. Say you’ll never leave me.”
“Of course, Mr. President,” Sarah said, trying to stand and failing.
“No, say it. Say you’ll never leave me,” Donald begged, a timorous whine creeping into his voice.
“I’ll never leave you, Mr. President,” she whispered.
“Not even when I fire you?” he asked, his face pressing into her breasts.
“Not even when you fire me, sir,” she said.
“DONALD!” the hat screamed. “LOOK! LOOK!”
Donald glance over at the hat and his sex fruit. The hat was taking the pummelo from the side, grunting, hungry and pig-like, pausing only to pant or shift for better traction.
“I call this one The Deformed Avocado,” the hat said. “Because I made it up while fucking an avocado until it was deformed!”