“Penny for your thoughts,” the hair said dreamily as it massaged Donald’s head with his feathery tendrils.

“I was thinking about Ancient Rome,” Donald said. “I think about it all the time. It was a tremendous time. Just great, really great.”

“Your Inaugural can be a Triumph,” the hat said. “Ride through the streets of DC on a chariot with DeSantis lashed to the front.”

“Memento mori, I will whisper,” the hair said, rubbing furiously as Donald’s scalp raced toward orgasm.

Donald’s intercom crackled to life. “Laura is here to see you,” his twink secretary said.

 

 

“Oh, God,” the hair moaned. “She’s back.”

“Yeah, ‘she’s’ back,” the hat said and made a fart sound with the febrile lips of his brim. “Grab her by the pussy, Donald. If you can find one.”

“Clam up, you two,” Donald said. “Laura is very important and a sexy lady and a great supporter and she tweets, like, all the time. All. The. Ty-ime.”

“We can find someone else to tweet,” the hat grumbled.

The hair settled onto Donald’s scalp and composed himself. Donald hit the intercom and said for her to be sent in.

“Mr. President!” she said, sweeping into the office, the large bones of her face weirdly mobile. She dove in for a kiss before Donald could recoil, her usual perfume of ammonia and Klonopin enveloping him.

“You’re doing good work on the Twitter for me, there, Laura,” Donald said, moving back, putting his desk between the two of them. The hat laughed quietly.

“She’s wearing a mask, Donald,” the hair said. “Humans don’t look like that.”

“Lizard person,” the hat said before Donald slapped him lightly.

“Mr. President,” Laura said, sitting primly on the couch. “I wanted to discuss our strategy for DeSanctimonious.”

“Who?” Donald asked.

“Ron DeSantis, Mr. President,” she said. The hat sniggered and snorted.

“It’s a mask,” the hair chanted. “A mask, a mask, a mask.”

“If the temperature gets any colder, she’ll freeze and fall out of a tree,” the hair said. “Lizzzzzard.”

When Laura’s red, red lips, wet with CVS lipstick, parted as she started to speak and Donald saw her forked tongue flick out.

“Lizard!” he accused. “Lizard!”

“Mr. President?” she asked.

Donald moved lightning-fast for his age and bulk, crossing the room to grab the sides of Laura’s face.

“Mask!” he said, clawing at her jowls. “Take off your mask!”