Return of the Trumpwife

Confrontation

The Trumpwives and Barron hurried up the staircase. Though any chance of waylaying Chelsea in her sleep was a lost cause now, they anticipated that whatever confusion the mysterious blast caused provided them with an opportunity at an ambush, still.

The main chamber bustled with Chelsea's lackeys darting about in their black robes screaming and scrambling for a way out as smoke poured down the main entrance tunnel into the vault's sanctum. Further down the tunnel, shots were being fired. The robe-clad men and women hurried down the staircase into the lower corridor to an alternate escape route and pushed past the Trumpwives and Barron, blinded by the need to preserve their defenseless selves against whatever force was attacking he fallout shelter.
A set of elevator-like doors opened up, revealing Chelsea Clinton garbed in her white satin sleepwear. "What's going on out here!?" she yelled, and her eyes brightened with malice. "Trumpwife."
"It's over, Chelsea," Jeananne said. "You don't stand a chance against us Trumpwives."
Chelsea chuckled. "No, Jeananne. It's you who doesn't stand a chance."
A shot from an assault rifle was fired into the main chamber. Immediately after the bullet completed its brief ricochet, a group of two dozen soldiers jogged out of the entrance to the tunnel. Before the soldiers could discern a target, Chelsea flashed them her middle fingers and struck them all down with a single blast of Jeananne Trump's Trumpwife ability.
Jeananne yelled a cry of anger and ran at Chelsea with clenched fists, but the Clinton offspring sent her back with a short shock.
Chelsea laughed and pointed at the staggering Trumpwife. "You're helpless without your ability, Jeananne!" Her laughter was cut short by a gunshot to her left shoulder. From the smokey tunnel emerged Donald Trump, gripping an M16 assault rifle. He tried to fire again, but he realized in that moment that he'd used up all his ammunition clearing out the main tunnel.
          "Donald!" Jeananne exclaimed.
          "Jeananne!" Donald dropped his weapon and rushed to his wife, kneeling down beside her and helping her sit up. His past wives and Barron slowly approached them. Donald embraced her lovingly. "Where's--Barron!" Donald chuckled with tears in his eyes, but when he noticed his former wives standing around him, his brows furrowed with confusion. Helping Jeananne to a stand, he looked at Ivana, Marla, and Melania.
          "Yes, it's us, Donald," said Ivana with a grin.
          "I thought I would never see any of you again," he said, briefly hugging each of them. "How's the Trumpwife Realm been treating you three?"
          "Donald!" Chelsea said through clenched teeth while holding her bleeding shoulder. "I wouldn't think your first instinct upon meeting your new wife would be to shoot her!"
         "What?" Donald said. "Wait, Chelsea Clinton?"
          "Yes, Donnie," Chelsea said as warmly as she could while bearing the pain of the gunshot wound. "I'm the next Trumpwife!"
          "You're the daughter of Hillary Clinton. There's no way you're a Trumpwife."
          "Oh, that's where you're wrong, Donnie. See?" Chelsea removed her hand from her bloodied shoulder and raised both her middle fingers at Jeananne, striking the young woman again.
          "Jean! Shit!" Donald dropped to his knees and held his young wife close to him.
          "I have the power of a Trumpwife!" Chelsea laughed. "Accept me, Donnie!"
          "You stole the power of a Trumpwife," Ivana said, "and said Trumpwife shall get her power back!"