*Donald's POV*
I wake up to me thinking about Mitt. I just had the most horrible nightmare about him. That he met somebody else and married them, instead of ME. I'm thinking about heading to Vegas, to see if he is there. I doubt he is, but if he is, I'll make sure to look in the Trump hotel. Because I know that he misses me too, almost as much as I miss him. And he'll be sure to donate to my cause, because I'm slowly going bankrupt every second. I decide that I am going to Las Vegas.
But then I think about my wife, Melania. I wonder if she is worried about me or not? I think not, she seemed pissed at me when I left.
Thinking back on it, I think she already left before I left. She's salty.
*cut to Donald arriving at the Trump hotel in Vegas*
YES, I AM FINALLY HERE! I thought I saw his car on the way in, but I wasn't sure. I recall him telling me that he gets a new car every month or so. It's been about 24 months, so how would I know?
Once I walk in the door, everybody welcomes me. I ask about Mitt. I make sure to describe every little detail, from his balding head, to his fishy smell. They all look puzzled and confused about my description. That wasn't a good sign. But one of them says, "I'VE SEEN THAT GUY. He's been here for about a week." I get so excited. "WHICH LEVEL?"
"901th floor."
What the hell is that, I think. Then I remember.
"Thank you, ma'am. I appreciate it. I've been looking for him for about a month now."
The 901th floor is the private suite. Used only for special people, like me, or Mitt. It's very private, and it's way up in the sky, so that nobody can bother the person who is staying in that suite.
It's Olympus. It's Heaven. (Not literally Heaven)
How did Mitt get the lock? Only I have it, and there is only one copy of the lock. That's mine... T
That's mysterious, indeed.
