Donald Trump woke up hungover after a long night of celebrating the Republican nomination. He teetered to the bathroom and willed his sore muscles to flex, once again imagining himself as a chiselled adonis in his leather codpiece and wall of gold chains. He then popped an aspirin and swaggered down to the breakfast hall, where he was greeted by a scream from his assistant.
“Put some clothes on!” she panicked. “Put some goddamn clothes on!”
“Mavis,” he replied. “You’re gonna be seeing a lot more of this in the next four or so years!” He adjusted the strap on his codpiece, sending a pair of socks tumbling out. He blushed, covering the empty sack with his hands.
Mavis walked away rolling her eyes and muttering “This is why I voted Bernie Sanders…”