Trump walks into a bar
He starts wailing about how he wants to kill all the radical trans people. Before the bartender could say anything, he runs toward the stairs to the basement. The bar tender yells out, "you really don't want to do that!" But he doesn't listen.
As trump enters the staircase to the basement, he hears chittering and borking noises echoing off the walls. He gets down to the basement and sees some kind of strange raccoon like creature performing surgery on some kind of dog next to a pool of oozing black fluid.
Trump lunges toward the raccoon, but accidentally falls into the fluid. Whatever was in that fluid seemed to make the raccoon far more powerful than she previously was. Trump quickly succumbed to exhaustion like you would expect from an 80 year old. He passes out in the fluid.
He wakes up to the sharp smell of ammonia salts the raccoon keeps around in case people get faint during surgery. His cock hurts. He looks down to see a swirling mess of black goop dancing on his cock. The raccoon had implanted a neodymium baculum into his cock.
Trump runs out of the bar naked screaming obscenities. Since he was completely covered in ferromagnetic fluid, an ICE agent thought he was black. The agent pulls his P320 out of its holster, but accidentally shoots his femoral artery due to the numerous design flaws associated with the gun.
The bullet ricochets and hits trump near his spine. He is alive, but badly injured. An ambulance arrives and takes him to the hospital. The doctor orders an MRI test for him, but is worn out and overworked due to hospital funding being cut. He doesn't do any followup.
A technician takes the howling trump and puts him into the mri machine. As soon as he gets into the machine, blood and ferromagnetic fluid splatter everywhere. The place looks like hypercock Puro dumped his load into to the MRI machine. All that is left of Trump is a pile of black goop and blood.
Soon, the news gets out that the person the ICE agent shot was trump. Every single ICE agent commits suicide in mass as the guilt that they killed their lord and savior sets in.
JD Vance, now the president, addresses the nation. Every single internet connected device is switched to his address due to some shady palantir shit. JD Vance is wearing an especially thick layer of eyeliner and is wearing a Black Veil Brides shirt that is noticeably too small.
The members of Panic At The Disco are led onto a stage by armed military men pointing guns at them. JD Vance joins them on stage. Tears cause his black eyeliner to run down his face. His knees quiver with the sexual tension of every Midwest Emo cub flowing through him at once.
He sings the most mediocre cover of Worse Than Nicotine ever recorded. He attempts to add some Midwestern emo style into it by half speaking the lyrics to the song, but messes up the delivery and fails to hold tempo with the rest of the band.
Mr.Beast attempts to give a glowing review of his cover. This pisses off everyone so much that they finally decide to cancel him. He is never heard from again.
Later that night, the raccoon girl attempts to pleasure herself with the transduced electromagnetic fields from JD Vance's shitty cover. She struggles to cum. Her boyfriend sees her struggling and cuddles up next to her. He lovingly says, "Double Happiness Canned Chinese Cigarettes" then seductively whispers "Portrait Edition" into her ear. The raccoon girl cums. It’s just another day in Portland, Oregon.
