a true love's kiss

[ pilot ]

A/N- Still working on the header dimensions. Sorry.

Donald J. Trump was in the white house, where he lives. It was a good day already, as he finally got enough money from the government to start building his wall. He could have used his own billions of dollars on it, of course, but that would be too easy. He would rather shut down his government and stop paying his workers for awhile. The suffering of his people is important to him, and it must continue.

He decided to take a walk outside. The security guards followed him around whenever he did this but Trump was able to sneak out without their notice. He just needed some time by himself to celebrate and think about the many meetings he must attend soon.

The D.C. air was crisp, and a slight breeze picked up from the west. It wasn't snowing today, but it had been a few days before, so the sidewalks were sprinkled with the white substance. It crunched beneath his feet as he made his way out of town. It wasn't long before he stumbed upon a rural vilage, surrounded by mountains. A colorfu sign was on its outside border. 'Whoville,' it read.

Whoville? Strange, he thought. I've never heard of this place. After recalling how bad he was at geography, and, well, anything requiring academic intelligence or any intelligence at all, he was no longer surprised that he didn't know what this place was.

Look how bright and colorful it is. Disgusting. Not a place where I wanted to end up.

So Trump strayed off to the side of it, hoping to go far from it,but knowing that if he loses sight of it he will get lost. He somehow ended up needing to hike up a mountain, as they surrounded the village and there was no way around this. At the top of the mountain, he discovered a sort of small cave. The mouth of it was small, almost like a doorway. He poked his head it and noticed it was rather homely inside. There was a small fireplace, set ablaze, with pillows and blankets and cushions strewn all over the floor. This messiness horrified him, but after some thinking, he decided that anyone that lived this isolated probably deserved it. A menace to society must live here.

He mentally noted to tweet about how neat and clean his mansion is later, once he was on his way back to it.

Trump figured that a tamed yet roaring fire likely meant that someone was recently tending to it, so the owner of this house must be around here somewhere. Just as he composed this lovely idea, the barking of a dog rang out in the distance. He turned towards it and found that a small brown mutt was running at him. Walking behind the dog was a man. But as Trump's gaze fell upon him, he realized this man was nothing but ordinary.

Green, fur-like hair sprouted from every inch of his handsome body. His proportions seemed off, almost inhumane. He was tall, of course, but not as tall as Trump, who prided himself on being 6'3".

As he got nearer, the Grinch's eyes narrowed at Trump. They were large on his head, the sclera a shade of citrine and the irises a gleaming ruby.

"Hello," Trump said to him. "Is this your house?"

"What's it to you?" asked the green man. His voice was deep and gorgeous, and Trump could feel himself blush.

"I was just wondering. My name is Donald, by the way. Donald Trump. But you should know that, of course. Everyone does." Trump was trying to be polite, but he knows how famous he has become, and he finds it difficult to avoid bragging.

"Oh, I've heard of you, all right."

"What's your name, then?"

"I don't have one."

Trump considered this for a moment. A gorgeous man should always have a name for people to remember them by.

Then, he said, "How about the Grinch?

"What?"

"I've decided. You will be the Grinch."

Mentally, he made an acrostic:

G- Gosh, just look at him!

R- Really do I even need to say anything here?? This man is incredible I can just tell by looking at him.

I- Is this love that I'm feeling?

N- No, it can't be love. I'm not gay. I am married to a woman. I am not gay.

C- Can't be gay. Not me. Nope.

H- Homosexuals hate god. Obviously. Because the Bible totally says that.

Trump then realized that the name should be more about the man in front of them than himself, but it was too late to change. The Grinch gave Trump a strange look but did not reject this new name.

"Very well then. What's brings you here, anyway?"

"I, uh, was on a walk. I am the president, after all. Sometimes I need a break for fresh air." Trump gestured to the house when he said, "And this home is lovely. Nothing compared to the size of mine, of course, though it is cozy."

The Grinch frowned, a little insulted. "Are you saying my house is small?"

"Indeed I am. But you're such a glorious man, you deserve more. I could buy you a bigger house. I could buy you an entire town if you wanted." Trump's eyes seemed to shine with excitement. He could impress this crush of his so easily.

"An entire town?" The Grinch laughed, and Trump deflated a little. "Speaking of towns, there's one just over that way."

"Oh?"

"I'm not interested in living there, if that's what you're thinking. It's too cheerful, too bright. The Whos—the people that live there—are always celebrating some sort of stupid holiday around this time of year. They have all these lights and decorations, and they sing and dance and it's disgusting. I wish I could that away."

"Take which part away? The holiday itself? The celebrations? The happiness?" Trump could any of these away, surely. He could say that Christmas is banned, or decorations are illegal, or even make the town so miserable that they'll never see joy again in their lives. The last one was a strong suit of his.

"Any of them would do, really, but the main target is their happiness. But since all of these connect to each other, that means that we only need to eliminate one of them."

"How?"

"Oh, don't worry, I have a plan."