Fandom: Donald Trump
“Suddenly the heavy golden doors at the end of his room flew open, accompanied by a large gust of wind and a mighty yell. It was Raul, Trump’s finest cleaning lady and his best friend. She was a strong, red haired woman of Scottish descent. The renowned skill Egyptian cotton polishing had been in her family for generations. She was an avid scientist hunter. They insulted her family. “The skill of Egyptian cotton polishing can not be renowned in any way because the ability to polish cotton does not exist,” they said. “Egyptian cotton did not exist in Scotland until recently,” they said. “Please don’t kill us,” they said. Raul knew better. She knew almost everything. She almost had a Trump-level of understanding all things.
“I am here to save ye,” she bellowed as she sprinted over towards the almost unconscious Trump. She picked him up and cradled him like a baby. “You’ll never have to pee alone,” she whispered. She then entered the bathroom.
Then she tossed Trump onto the toilet. “There ya go,” she chuckled, “Make sure you wash your hands when you’re done.”










