The Wrinkly Orange Bitch

Bonjour Biden

After many boring hours later, back at the Whitehouse Donald was saying goodbye to his favourite portraits of old dead guys who watched him sleep.

Suddenly, he heard a knock at the door.

"Ugh it better not be that Obama whats-his-last-name guy dressed as a clown again." Thought Donald.

It was not. It was none other than Joe Biden. Donald was quite taken aback. "What's he doing here?" Donald thought to himself, though he wasn't complaining, Biden did look quite handsome in that short yellow dress he was wearing.

Donald felt a strong attraction towards his former enemy.

"Donald I-" Biden started in what sounded like a poor attempt at a young French girl's accent. Donald put his fat orange sausage finger to Biden's lips and pulled him into the room. Biden closed the door with his foot behind them.

Donald had unbuttoned his shirt and was just about to take down his pants when Biden suddenly let out a scream that sounded like a pigeon was giving birth to a donkey while being strangled by a dog underwater. It was at that moment he knew, he fucked up.

Instantaneously, what seemed like thousands of news reporters and press flocked into the room, obviously awakened by Biden's call to arms. They started snapping pictures of Donald in his underwear, thank God he still had his underwear on.

Shit. His underwear had gone. He was standing there in front of the whole world of news naked. His micro sausage waving hello to the cameras. This was his worst nightmare.

No. It was Biden standing there looking utterly beautiful in his short yellow dress and pigtails out of the very little hair he had left laughing at him that was his worst nightmare.

As Biden continued to laugh and the press blinded him with their cameras, Donald pushed past them and ran. He ran so fast he forgot he was naked.