Return of the Trumpwife

Chelsea's Plan

Chelsea guffawed like a mule, baring her huge, equine-like teeth.
"That's right, Trumpwife," she said. "You killed my mother and thought it would be okay, but you were sloppy. You left me out."
          "Your mother was a lying cunt who was beyond unworthy of being the president! The things she did made her only worthy of death, and it was my Trumpwife duty to destroy her."
          "And you and your hubby will suffer." Chelsea said. "You did what you had to do. Your purpose as Trumpwife has been fulfilled. Now, it's time for a new Trumpwife, no?"
          "Why do you want to be a Trumpwife?"
          Chelsea scowled at Jeananne. "I don't want to be a Trumpwife, idiot. I want revenge. Only by being the next Trumpwife can I have my vengeance."
"Donald can sense a new Trumpwife. You can flaunt 'your' powers all you want, but he won't be fooled!"
"Ah, Trumpwife, you don't know a heartbroken man--and how easy it is to manipulate them. Picture this; Donald Trump's wife has been called away to the Trumpwife Realm without notice, having fulfilled her purpose to destroy Hillary Clinton. Not only that, but his youngest son has vanished. A torn Don, unable to cope, foolishly accepts a new Trumpwife without question. The new Trumpwife, A.K.A. me, charms him and, when he trusts her enough, she eliminates him and those close to him, including his Vice President. Who does that leave to be the president? Me."
"You demonic cunt!" Jeananne snapped. "And what about Barron and I?"
"Well, now that you're pregnant, I'll keep you alive long enough to give birth. This whole 'Trumpwife' rigamarole is ludicrous enough; I can tell Donald that 'my' baby was made immaculately. When the DNA evidence proving that the baby is his is released, Donald will have no choice but to take me! And Barron, well; won't Donald be overjoyed when the woman who is to be his next wife comes to the White House with his lost son?"
"You won't get away with this, bitch," Jeananne hissed.
"I'm a Clinton, Jeananne. We're masters when it comes to lying and scheming." Chelsea stood up, eyeing her lackeys garbed in black robes. "To the torture chamber, chop-chop. Oh, and we must be extra cautious with our methods. We don't want to lose that precious Trump baby, now."