Mr. President (Obamney)

3

I tug Michelle's hand and pull her to the grass area behind the assorted flowers.

"Let's lay down and look at the stars, then you can tell me what's in that pretty mind of yours," I say breaking the silence.

smooth Barack, so smooth.

She nods and we lay side by side, admiring the beauty of the night's starry sky.

"Barack listen, there has been something I've been wanting to tell you but I was afraid you might take it the wrong way. Just promise you'll listen to everything I have to say."

A dozen things cross my mind, what happened? Did I screw up? Is she leaving me? My stomach is queazy, and not from Mark's pizza.

"It's about Clinton," she starts,"He seems... Different I don't think you should hang out with him anymore, I think he might be trying to take you away from me."

My mouth gapes open, "Michelle he's my friend, I'm his only friend I can't just leave him, he's just going through a tough time and needs some friendly guidance."

Michelle's eyes roll to the back of her head.

She wants to start with me.

"Don't you roll your eyes at me miss," I warn.

"Obama stay away he will ruin everything we have in this relationship," she shouts firmly.

"What would you know, you aren't his bff, besides I helped you with a lot of things in your life and I can take it away just as easily," I hiss.

"Just because your 'Mr. President' doesn't give you the right to throw a tantrum," she yells, her eyes filled with rage.

"Forget it we will talk about this later," I turn and make my way to my office. This wasn't what I wanted, I wanted to point out constellations, drink wine, and laugh at all the funny stories we had in our day.

But nooooo Michelle wanna play, and let me tell you Barack don't play games.

I spin in my wheely chair for about ten minutes until I decide to call clinton.

Phone call:

Obama: *deep sigh* ugh today's been rough.

Clinton: No kid Hillary's taking me to divorce court.

Obama: Clinton I'm talking about Michelle.

Clinton: wOaH, is your women all up in your biz?

Obama: Um idk it's complex. like it was fine until you left.

Clinton: Really? Maybe it's just left over election stress.

Obama: She told me to stop hanging out with you.

Clinton: Ugh I say you dump that booty and go fishing with me and Bush.

Obama: But she's my wife, I love her and she's loves me it's not like you and Hillary.

Clinton: Bruh. Listen, let's go for a little fishing trip this weekend and we can figure this big boy problem out.

Obama: Yeah that sounds cool, bush is coming?

Clinton: Duh George W. Bush is coming he's the life of the party.

Obama: Thanks Clinton, you alway know how to make everything better

Clinton: hey, brothers for eternity remember?

Obama: brothers for eternity.

I hang up after that, feeling so much better after that talk with Clinton. Besides it's been a long time since I've been fishing it might be good to hook some bait.

I think I'm going to go shopping at Walmart tomorrow so I can get some fishing 'getup' I want to show off my excellent fashion sense because if you know Bush, you know he can be brutally honest when it comes to style. he says who looks cute and who doesn't, Clinton calls him the fashion police.

I sleep on the leather sofa in my office because of my unresolved conflict with Michelle. I grab my american flag blanket out of my closet and rest my head on the arm of the couch, hoping this problem gets solved quickly because this couch is only good for sitting not sleeping.

When I wake up I pace down the stairs to fetch my morning breakfast.

When I arrive at the dining Hall a cheif hands me a plate presented with scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and two slices of buttered toast.

I sit at the breakfast table along with all the others who share these amenities.

"Hey Mr. president, how'd you sleep last night," the new White House secretary, Brian Grand asks.

Brain is the most annoying person on the planet, I cannot stand him. I ignore his question and start eating faster so I can leave before he starts asking more. The last thing I need right now is for him to think we're friends or that he's on my level.

When I finish my meal, I get up from the table and ask the limo driver if he can drive me to Walmart. I'm leaving tonight for my fishing trip and I have to make sure my outfit is on point.

The driver nods, opening the car door for me, I sit in the back deciding which song I'm going to listen to. As I'm repeatedly pressing skip, I finally get to my favorite song from my favorite movie.

'Let It Go' from Frozen.

Sometimes I feel like me and Elsa are long lost sibling because I connect to her on a spiritual level.

I hum along softly to the piano solo, looking out the tinted glass windows as we travel to Walmart.

When I find myself singing, I roll down the windows and close my eyes so I can feel the emotion in the song better. I scream the lyrics when the chorus hits not caring if I don't reach all the notes.

All my negative energy flies out of my body, being replaced only by good vibes. it's times like theses when I really feel alive.

Just when I think everything's going prefect I hear someone snicker. I open my eyes wishing I never had, seeing someone with identical personality as Hans from Frozen. Someone with an ice cold heart, who dictates the underworld throne.

Mitt Romney.