“I’m SICK of you, Elon.” Donald trump spat out. Elon brought a hand out, not to do a Nazi salute, but rather, to bring it to his heart in appalled shock. He crumpled at his feet and fell to the ground. Shaking. Tears welled his his eyes. His lip quivered.
No. NO! Those words spun in his mind. “I’m sick of you, Elon.”
Donald trump was sick of him? of *HIM?* the ingenious, prodigious, savant of a man, the developer of space-x, x, x-ae^2, the letter x, the man behind the great minds of America? The brains to his brawn? America would never be great again, not without him. NOT without Elon. Trump couldn’t possibly be sick of him.
Elon weakly, desperately, like a rat clinging to the walls of a New York City Subway, crawled towards Donald’s feet. Begging, CRYING, asking:
”why, WHY DONALD WHY!? WHY ARE YOU SICK OF ME DONALD!? WHAT DID I DO TO YOU!? IVE GIVEN YOU NOTHING BUT MY HIGHEST PRAISE, MY MONEY, MY ADMIRATION, I-I EVEN—“
“Shut. Up.” Donald interrupted his pleas bitterly. “I don’t care! Can’t you see, Elon?! You’re nothing but a trump to my own life.”
“…but your own name is tr—“
“SILENCE!!!!” the White House shook. Trump kicked elon away and he rolled to the wall, falling against it with a thud. Elon desperately tried to pull himself up but was wracked with sobs. Why, why was trump doing this to him?
Trump walked over, sneering over Elon’s dismay.
“You’re too clingy. Elon. I never felt anything towards you. You’re too loving…youre too caring.”
Elon scoffed, bitter hatred coming into his head.
“Is this because you still miss Joe!?”
…
Donald stopped. His smile dropped. He practically rolled over.
“What?”
“H..Hahaha…HAHAHHAHA! ITS BECAUSE OF JOE ISNT IT!? YOU STILL MISS HIM! YOU STILL MISS JOE!”
“Wh-WHAT!? No, No I don’t!” Trump screamed defensively. Although, Elon couldn’t help but to notice trump was using the same pen that Joe used, too.
“YOU. You still miss that bastard.” Elon spat. “You still miss the banter. You miss the arguments, the forbidden nature of it all. Don’t you trumpyboo?”
Donald trump failed to give a response. “I…” he averted his eyes, giving a clear answer without saying any words. If Elon was actually autistic, he’d probably go nonverbal.
“Everyone knows we’re in love, but nobody could have anticipated that with JOE! Your rival. Ahaha…oh trump. You’re nothing but a whore.”
“Get out of my house.”
Elon quickly grabbed his bags. “Gladly.”
