2025 – Inauguration Day…
The day is finally here – Donald Trump has moved back into the White House. People said he’d never be back, but there he was! All it took was a deep fake of Joe Biden kicking a child, a short civil war, and a global pandemic that turned everyone else in America into zombies! Hey presto, he was waltzing into the presidential bathroom as though nothing had changed.
Donald turned on the water. It’s cold. Anyone that could keep the boiler going has died. Oh well, thought Donald. He’d never cared much for personal hygiene, but now he was under the water, he couldn’t be bothered to get out. His mind turns to the other rooms in the building. He was pleased to see the stripper pole he’d installed in the bedroom was still standing. He could hear Melania snapping and snarling from her cage. He wondered how her rotting flesh would look, wiggling around the pole. Not worth the effort of teaching her, Donald thought. He’d much rather hunt down the current Miss Undead America. Although, if no one else had the still working brain to notice, he supposed now would be the best time to explore his desire to get a lap dance from Rudy Giuliani. Being a zombie had stopped him from sweating through his cheap dye job and honestly, it was doing something for Donald. Yes, it was decided, Rudy learns to strip, Melania stays in the cage.
Melania had been one of the first to turn into a zombie. As soon as the first zombie had been discovered, Melania started trying to access Donald’s brain. One night, he’d seen her putting arsenic in his Big Mac and later woke up to find her standing over him with an axe. She hadn’t gone pale or shown any signs of decomposition, nor was this the usual mode of kill for a zombie, but let’s be realistic, no one would want to kill Donald unless they were looking to feast upon his magnificent brain. It is, after all, the best brain in the world. No brain is better than Donald’s brain. Everyone wants to eat his brain.
Chuckling to himself, Donald began to rub soap over his stomach. It takes a while. He found a chip hidden in his belly button. It’s green with age. Chips were one of the first things to disappear during the apocalypse so this chip must be at least 2 years old. Donald fist-pumped the air and shoved the delicacy in his mouth. As he chews, the water around him turned a brownish orange. Like chips, the spray tan Donald has expired years ago. On the expiration date, Donald still had 12 cans left. Well, waste not want not, he’d put all 12 cans on. He was still rinsing it off to this day, although at this point, he was sure his skin had been stained the same colour as Fanta. He moved on to wash his hair. Picking up a tub of dishwasher detergent, Donald swiped up and down the combover. Over the years, it had solidified into plastic. No need for shampoo anymore, Donald only had to scrub the ‘hair’ with a sponge.
Donald was so preoccupied with the mentally strenuous task of moving his hand from side to side on top of his head that he didn’t hear the guttural screams coming from outside. Alexandria Ocasio Cortex had been turning in her grave, feeling the presence of something evil in the White House. Able to stand it no longer, her hand shot out of the ground. Recognising her as the true President of the Undead States of America, the zombie hordes marched behind her to DC. Upon reaching the White House, they tore down the barbed wire and ripped through the mercenaries Putin had loaned Donald to guard the place. AOC looked on while the hoard unlocked Melania’s cage. Screaming, the first lady ambushed her husband in the shower. Opening his head to eat his brain, Melania was disappointed but unsurprised to find it empty.
The next day…
The new US President, AOC, gave her first address to the nation and the world. She had one message, one sentence to say…
“Eat the rich!”
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