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CrabCake
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« on: April 20, 2016, 06:25:07 PM » |
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« edited: April 20, 2016, 06:55:03 PM by CrabCake »
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Inauguration Day had arrived at last. Leauirely pacing through the halls of Congress, Donald Trump allowed himself a smirk. He had done it. He had shown the haters, and the losers who had doubted him. How he had savoured the look of outrage on Hillary's face as she had been led away in handcuffs for her crimes. Perhaps he would pardon her, thought Trump as he began to stroke the beard he has grown for today's event. But first...
He flung open the doors to greet the new congress. They sat stony-faced. A terribly unclassy congress, he decided. He walked up to the Chief Justice.
"You have my arrangements for my classy swearing-in ceremony, no?"
Roberts looked flustered "well, we decided you couldn't swear in on The Art of The Deal, Mr Tr-"
Donald Trump narrowed his eyes. This man, Roberts, was clearly a loser.
"Fine, I'll swear in on the Bible"
Trump went in to grab the holy book. This was the moment. The culmination of all those years of playing the fool. Of all his scheming. Of every precise manipulation. Finally the power would be his. He placed his hands on the book. But alas he could not pick up the wretched book. He looked at his hands in horror.
"Mr Trump" said Roberts, "I'm afraid I can not swear you in..."
Trump's pupils dilated. The nightmare has come true.
"...your hands are just far too small".
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