Fast and Furious: Quick Rip (an excerpt)

The Interrogation

Donald Trump looked Dominic Toretto in the eyes and said, "The day may come when our enemies make another move against me. Maybe they'll brainwash me and turn me loose with my billions to wreak havoc. Who knows, maybe they'll even replace me with a fat evil clone. If that day comes, don't let the Donald be something he's not. Protect my commitment to honesty, integrity, and the institutions of our democracy."

Dom sighed, not for the last time wondering what other surprises 1999 had in store. 

Five hours earlier...

SMACK-SMACK. Flesh strikes flesh, splattering the floor with blood and sweat. A heavily muscled Russian thug stands ready to deliver more punches to Donald J. Trump, a debonair 53 year old man who sits in a chair, hands tied behind his back, blood running from his temple down his cheek and staining the collar of his white dress shirt. Another Russian, Sergei, stands nearby scowling at Trump. It's 1999, and it's about to get weird.

Sergei: Have you had enough, Mr. Trump?

Trump: Enough? Buddy, The Donald doesn't sell out his country for a couple of kisses from "Boris Smallhands" over here.

SMACK-SMACK! The muscled Russian grunts with exertion as he lays into more blows (then selfconsciously examines his hands to consider their size). Trump spits out a tooth with the nonchalance of a regular guy enjoying sunflower seeds at a baseball game.

Sergei: A new millennium should be a time for change, should it not? Besides, what we are asking that you do, it is a very small thing.

Trump: Tampering with an election is not a very small thing. Not in the U.S. of A. it isn't. I'd eat a bullet before I'd undermine democracy.

Sergei: That can be arranged.

Trump: You're wasting your time.

Sergei: But we have already found so many comrades here. The election of 2000 will be unlike any other.

Trump: Oh, I know all about your two-bit boiler room operation to launder money into campaign coffers. And your plans for a ridiculous butterfly ballot and thousands of fake absentees.

Sergei: Yes. And you hold the last piece of the puzzle: Mar-a-Lago. Sign it over to us. Or else.

Trump: Never. Foreign interference in our elections is despicable! You won't get away with this.

Sergei: Who will stop us?

Trump: The American people, that's who. Just like we stopped the Nazis, and just like we stopped you commie bastards in Berlin in '48, on the Salaang in '89, and every other time.

Sergei: (taken aback) The Salaang? In Afghanistan?

Trump: Check a map. I've seen this movie, buck-o. I'm Rocky. You're Drago. You can't win.

Sergei backhands Trump across the face. Trump slowly turns back to the Russian, and looks up fearlessly.

Sergei: Everyone has a weakness. Even you.

Sergei signals to the muscled Russian, who then opens a side door. A pair of thugs walk through, dragging a hooded figure whose wrists are bound. Sergei removes the hood to reveal Donald Trump, Jr.

Don: Dad!

Trump: Donny! Donny it's ok, son. It's going to be ok.

Sergei: Mr. Trump. You will help us spoil this election. And the world will see that America is not the shining city on a hill after all.