Joe Biden
And in an instant, the debate starts again, but Trump comes at me harder than he has before, talking about the racism issue, saying "He's done a horrible job for black people."
Although there is clearly more issues, the only thing I pick up is the fact he says 'he'. I have a name. He knows my name and I definetely know his. I dream of his name every night, I dream of him every night. I dream of his last name being mine.
But, as usual with these things, the debate took a turn. Physical health. And as trump started showing off about his mental and physical skill, I used this opportunity to add a more personal aspect to the debate, one that only he would catch on to.
"As you can see," I start, my voice more confident than it has been the entire debate "he is 6'5 and only 225 pounds."
He seems to forget that his mics not working and starts to retaliate, but I use this as an excuse to smirk down on him as he has been doing to me the majority of this debate "well anyway," I continue "just take a look at what he says he is and take a look at what he is."
Sexy as fuck, is what I wanted to continue the sentence as, but I decide to spark this rivarly a little more "I'd be happy to have a driving contest with him."
And he smirks that smirk he always does. He can see what I'm doing, I'm getting under his skin and yet, something inside of me wants to push more, to see just how far I can get before people start catching on "And-oh. By the way, I told you before I'm happy to play golf if you carry your own bag. You think you can do it?"
"Thats the biggest lie!" He yells, stunning the entire room. His face turns the same colour as his tie as he burns with rage "he's a six-handicap of all!"
I quickly jump to my own defence "I was an eight handicap-"
"I've seen you swing I know you swing." He says, and looks directly at me, the fuel and rage from his face gone then the most unexpected thing happens, this man winks at me.
