Annie POV
Screw it, it's Friday night, I'm going to the bar. Who even needs to be sober anyway, like???
I drive to a desolate, sad, run-down bar about 20 miles away, I was a regular there, too. I go in and order a few drinks, I'm there for about twenty minutes, I was only a little bit tipsy before deciding to flirt with the bar tender.
"So Craig, like, uhh, craigslist! Baby are you craigslist because you got everything I need, aha! How was that?"
"Um, my name isn't Craig."
"That's what they all say." I say, slurring my words, I stumble to the back door leading to the porch, and I see a surprising face.
"d-d-Donald Trump?" I say, just the sight of him making me feel less tipsy.
"Its always nice to meet a fan."
Donald stands up and gives me a firm handshake, we make small talk for a little bit before I notice something tiny and sad poking up out of his pants.
"Want me to fix that?" I ask, with a smirk.
We begin to aggressively make out, before heading to my car. There was nobody around to see us, so it couldn't damage his reputation. I quickly drive home, with anticipation.
YOU ARE READING
A Trumpy Night
Historia CortaAnnie hates Donald Trump with a burning passion, she hates the way his floppy hair flies in the wind, like a hamster trying to be free from his head, she hates the way his beady little eyes don't look right on his face, and she hates all of his vie...
