Disclaimer:
This story is purely fictional. Any names, persons, and events depicted in this work are fictional and parody.
✨
Mr. Trump, who's in his older years, finds himself happy and quite deeply in love with a young Soulmate who loves him dearly...
Disclaimer: This story is purely fictional. Any names, persons, and events depicted in this work are fictional and parody.
Note: Rated Mature. ***
Disclaimer for chapter: Some 'smut' implied towards the end in the evening scene.
***
"I'm sorry, Ms. J. This is the fourth time this month. We can't keep on having this!"
"Ok?"
"I mean, if she continues like this, I'm afraid we are going to have to expel her."
Sigh. "Okay~, but she's the one getting bullied. If you fix that, maybe we won't even have this issue to begin with."
"But we can't have her going around beating up kids! That's against school policy!"
That's when Estrella, a tiny kindergartner dressed in a red, white, and gray private school uniform, interjects with an attitude, "Well, maybe if they don't talk sh!t about my Dad, I don't beat them up!"
"Estrella!!" Her Mother quickly turns to her.
The Principal, a rather prim looking middle aged lady with graying hair, also glances at the sassy little girl, who looks like her Mother's tiny little twin, minus the few features of her Father.
Almost like the Trumpian version of a Stormi.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
If such a thing was to exist.
The Principal tries to maintain eye contact, thus control, as she glares into the dark defiant eyes of her very young student, eyes that actually sends a shiver down her spine, the unmistakable intimidating eyes of DONALD TRUMP.
"Whaaat?! Anyone talk sh!t about m' Dad, I beat they as-!"
Her Mother lightly taps her mouth.
"WHY are you cursing?! And WHERREE did you learn how to curse?!" J glances down at the little girl beside her, then glares at the Principal thinking her tiny daughter learned that bad language in the school.
"Dad curse all the time.." she looks innocently up at J. "Can't I curse too?"
J feels the heat of embarrassment rising on her face. Figures.
"We are going to have a TALK after!" She mumbles, embarrassed.
The Principal adds in a snotty tone, "Yes, looks like you do need to have a talk, including with your husband, Ms. J. Because maybe the ISSUE is actually at home~. One more incident report, and she's out."
"Ok. I see! I see how it is.."
J glares at the Principal, before getting up and taking her daughter's hand to drag out of there.
As J walks down the hallway of the elite private Catholic school on the Upper East Side, she reflects on how coincidentally, or rather ironically, she too got kicked out of private school around the same age.
