“The Georgia Senate races!” the hat squealed, flying across the Oval Office like a crippled frisbee.
“How are you flying?” the hair called from Donald’s head.
The hat landed softly on a credenza before answering. “That last hot secretary. She’s already being fired, so I had Donald drop me off in her office chair.”
“So like was it classy? Was it a classy experience?” Donald asked.
“I think she has IBS,” the hat said. “I struggled to get out of there and she found me and threw me back in here.”
“So you were more ‘molesting office staff” than ‘flying?’” the hair asked cruelly.
“Stinky trim is better than no trim at all,” the hat shot back.
“I cannot support that statement,” Donald said, not looking away from the television.
“The GOP might lose the Senate,” the hat said.
“Good,” Donald grumbled.
“Good? How is that good?” the hair asked.
“They won’t vote for me, they get nothing. They won’t fight voter fraud with me, they get nothing. They won’t decertify the election, they get nothing!” Donald said.
“And 2024!” the hat crowed.
“Yes, 2024,” Donald said. “Let them stew in four years of total Democrat control and see how they like it.”
“64th-dimensional chess, muthafucka!” the hat yelled.
“They will BEG me to run again,” Donald growled. “From hell’s heart, I stab at thee! With my last breath, I spit at thee!”
“Wrath of Khan, muthafucka!” the hat yelled.
“Moby Dick,” the hair said.
“Wrath of Khan!” the hat said. “The DVD is up in the Residence! I’ll show you the scene!”
“It’s originally from Moby Dick!” the hair said.
“Donald, pull up YouTube,” the hat said. “Donald. YouTube, Donald. Donald. Donalddonalddonalddonald.”
“Khan is quoting Moby Dick, you illiterate whale turd,” the hair said.
“YOUTUBE!” the hat screamed. “AVENGE ME!”