Me Plus You ♡ s.m. + m.f.

{70} Government Video

"And like, I'm really thinking of getting a Dat Boi cake for my birthday!" Jack rambled.

"Yeah, whatever, Jack" The man shook his head and fixed the sleeves on his suit Jacket. "But we'll talk about it later, cause that's not what we're doing right now."

What they were supposed to be doing right now was creating a video of reasons and examples why one of the presidential candidates weren't fit to be president. Jack, of course, chose the one and only Donald Trump. The initial project was to write a five paragraph essay, but Jack didn't feel like doing all that, so he asked if it'd be okay to make a video.

Jack sat at the table next to Clifton. He was dressed in a blue blazer and red tie he'd borrowed from his dad and a pair basketball shorts. He smeared orange Dorito powder on his face and a banana peel sat on top of his head. "I look just like Donald Trump."

Clifton shrugged, repositioning the cooked spaghetti noodles that sat upon his own head. He was supposed to be Ivanka Trump, and much like Jack, he didn't have a wig either.

"Hell, if she weren't my daughter, I'd probably be dating her." Jack grinned, resting his arm on Clifton's shoulder, who quickly moved away.

"Jack," He hissed, "I'm about to leave."

Jack put his hands up in defense. "Hey, all I wanna know is where the fuck is my beautiful wife?"

He raised his voice on the last part of that sentence, trying to get Mark's attention from where he was upstairs.

Just seconds later, the Asian boy creped down the stairs and slowly poking his head into the kitchen.

"Oooh! Who is she?" Jack gasped in a fake voice, referring to Mark - his wife, Melania.

He was wearing a short, frilly white dress that they'd gotten from Goodwill just hours earlier, pink lipstick and his hair was slightly curled in a half up, half down style much like (Their queen) Ariana, courtesy of Jack's doing. When Jack asked him the night before if he would help him with his video, he didn't know that Jack actually meant dress up as a woman, and I'll record it.

Jack leaned over the table and pressed the record button on his rose gold iPad. He began to speak to the camera.

"My name is Donald J. Trump. I am 70 years old, and my beautiful wife," He gestured toward Mark, "... Is fourty-six and only married me because I'm rich. I have no respect for women, and if Ivanka wasn't my daughter, I'd be dating her and having babies with her. When I became an adult, my father gave me a small loan of a million dollars to start out my business, and here I am today. I haven't paid taxes in about twenty-five years, but poor people still have to pay them. There are many Mexican illegal aliens in this country, and I plan to build a wall to keep them out, and have the Mexicans pay for it. All Muslims are terrorists and secretly part of ISIS, and I don't care what anyone says. Hillary is just as ugly as Rosie O'Donnell, and she's proved she isn't trustworthy and unfit to be President of The United States because she deleted a few thousand emails on a personal account on a private server she has in her basement...It's disgusting!"

Jack paused, looking at Mark and Clifton who were on either side of him. Both looked on the verge of laughing at all the bullshit he'd just said, but they were holding it in for the sake of the video. The Irish boy turned his gaze back to the camera and fixed his hair (the banana peel lol).

~

The Sky was a light grey color and the air felt cold against Jack's rosy cheeks. He didn't really want to be outside, but sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do.

"And I want you to zoom in when I do a split and point to the camera, okay, honey?" Jack handed Mark his iPad. For the last part of the video, and to represent Donald Trump's retardedness, Jack decided to do an interpretive dance.

"Hold up," Mark's dad started, walking out of the house, dressed in jeans, a white tee shirt with red sleeves and a red baseball hat that was turned backwards. He gestured to his clothing, "If Mark's filming, why did you tell me to dress like a camera man?"

Jack pondered for a second, trying to ignore how good the 39-year-old looked in that tee shirt, and how nice his thick, perfect blonde hair fell from underneath that baseball hat.

He snatched the iPad from Mark and handed it to Clifton.

"Marky, wanna dance with me?"

"Yes!"

Still dressed as Melania Trump, Mark stood next to Jack in the cold grass. Both boys were barefoot and looked a hot mess, but it's the thought that counts.

Once more, Jack repositioned the banana peel on his head and wiped the Dorito powder away from his eyes before quickly smoothing out the front of Mark's white dress  "Marky, just start dancing when I do."

A few times Clifton couldn't hold in his laughter as he recorded Mark and Jack's spastic, and jumpy movements that they called dancing. Mark eventually stood still, laughing as he watched Jack hit the splits a few times in between his other unfortunate looking dance moves to the Krusty Krab Trap Remix. The Irish boy's fluffy brown hair had completely covered his eyes by now, and Mark decided to walk away to give Jack his moment in the spotlight.

"You look like a retarded frog." Clifton snorted.

A/N: If you support Donald Trump, I'm sorry about this and I feel kinda bad for you... Leave comments, I love reading them and I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter! God bless Jack's dance skills!