TEEN TRUMP & HILLARY: A LOVE STORY

Trump is in his letterman’s jacket — 4 Letters sewn on and a Purple Heart latched next to them for a hangnail he got once.

He’s leaning against his locker with Teen James Spader, calling out to everyone who walks by.

“Hola Alicia, how’s my future housekeeper? Nice tits, but lose 20.”

“Akbar, take off the suicide vest.”
“It’s Ahmed and it’s a sweater vest”.
“Shut up, Terrorist.”

Hillary slinks by literally fading into the school hallway’s beige paint, an armload of books and binders labeled “School Policy v1–5” threatening to topple her.

Trump steps in front of her. “Hey Mousey. I need you to do all my homework.”

She’s about to snap, “Why would I do that?” then stops, methodical. “What can you do for me?”

“There isn’t anything I can’t do. What do you want?”

“To be Student Body President.”

He laughs, oblivious to all facial gestures or emotions of others.

“I’m serious.”

Shrugs. “Fine. Done.”

“How?”

“I’ll enter the race.”

Hillz is surprised. “How will that help me?”

“I’ll decimate all your other opponents, I’ll wipe the gym floor with them until they’re begging to quit. Then… I’ll drop out of the race. Leaving only you. People will have no choice. They won’t want to but they’ll have to vote for you.”

Hillary is shocked. But intrigued. “Okay.” She goes to shake his hand, he grabs it, turns it over and writes his locker combo on it. “Get to work.”

Flash forward to the first debate.

Hillz is nervous looking at the bleachers filled with the entire student body. Will Donnie do what he promised? Will anyone even take him seriously?

Donnie comes out swinging, pointing to a handicapped opponent.

“Are you really going to vote for ‘Wheelie’ over here? How can he run for President when he can’t even walk?”

The crowd laughs, egging Donnie on.

“C’mon Tiny Tim, jump out of your chair. No? No miracles? Next.”

He looks at a brown-skinned opponent behind the podium.
Tosses him his keys. “Sorry Paco, I forgot to give you these to park my car”.
Boy: “I’m running for President.”

Donnie scowls then turns to the students in the bleachers. “Mexicans are rapists. If you vote for Paco, you will be raped.”

He looks at Rosie — who has Rosie buttons, stickers and banners all over her podium. “Rosie’s a fat slob. A fat slob can’t be President. Unless he’s a man.”

Finally Donnie’s eyes fall on the charming, popular boy Hillary was sure would be the guy to beat.

“And let’s not forget Little Marco, even though you can’t see him behind the podium. Little Marco has a small penis.” The crowd erupts into laughter.

“It’s true, I’ve seen it in the locker room. It’s so small I thought he was a woman, I almost grabbed his Bush when I didn’t see a Billy club poking out.”

The student body is going wild, laughing and clapping. Hillary swoons, covering her glee that his plan is working. She catches the eyes of some handicapped kids, minorities and girls. She knows how she can win this.

Hillz expresses mock outrage at Donnie and lays out her plans to help the downtrodden. She can see she easily has that half of the vote, now she just needs Donnie to drop out and give her the other half.

And just as Donnie predicted, one by one, all the other candidates drop out.

When she walks by him in the hallway, she steals a glance and he smirks back. She’s repulsed yet attracted. The Bad Boy. Their behavior is abhorrent. And yet. The power is intoxicating.

Donnie for his part, like Narcissus, loves seeing his image in others’ eyes — their amazement, even if bordering on abhorrence, of what he can do. He is looking at Hillz anew.

Their hands brush when Hillary dutifully hands over binders of his homework.

“So when are you going to do it?” Hillz asks Donnie.

“Do what?”

“Drop out.”

“I can’t do that.”

“What?! But you promised. I did all your schoolwork!”

“Sometime people don’t get paid back. It’s life. Get over it. The student body, like all bodies, loves me. They need me, I’m their voice.”

“You’re just saying out loud the nasty stuff the school deplorables say behind people’s backs!” Donnie just smiles, leaning in:

“Angry sex is the best sex, you know. You saw what my last girlfriend wrote on the girls’ bathroom wall- Best Sex Ever.”

Hillary exploding, “Everyone knows you wrote that!”

Donnie laughs, “C’mon be my First Lady, I’ll need cookies baked and the actual work of the Presidency done by someone while I’m busy with mistresses, willing and unwilling.”

Hillary storms off. Everything goes downhill from there. No matter what racist or xenophobic thing he says, nothing sticks. He even has half the school whipped into hysteria thinking, if he doesn’t win, immigrants will be bused in with their explosive Skittles, and they’ll have no guns to stop them.

“Remember Columbine?” Trump says at their 2nd debate. “Those 2 Muslim suicide bombers praying to Allah before they blew the school up?”

Hillary flips out, “It was two white kids with guns who bowled before their shooting rampage.”

Trump: “Not true. And we should lock you up in detention for all those texts that disappeared.” “It’s Snapchat!” But the chants of “Lock Her Up” drown her out.

Hillz is crying in the girls’ bathroom when the stall door flies open. Popular girls Elizabeth and Michelle are standing there. “C’mon. We got you.”

They pull her out of the stall, giving her a pep talk. “You’ve got all the AP classes, Special Ed, ESL--” “It’s not enough,” Hillary wails. “He’s got all the dumb jocks and mean girls who can rile up everyone, we’re in high school, superficiality wins! It’s not like running for President of the country, where issues matter. I can’t wait to be out of high school!”

She runs off behind the portables, is pacing. “Think Hillary, think. I’m not Michelle or Elizabeth, I can’t win the kids over like they do and when they speak on my behalf, everyone just wishes they were running.”

Her Machiavellian mantra fills her ears “The enemy of my enemy is my friend, the enemy of my enemy is my friend, who’s the enemy of my enemy?”

Then it hits her: Donnie. “He’s his own worst enemy. Nothing he says in public works. But what about in private? There must be some level of vile that will tilt another group in my direction.”

“Underclassmen?” Shakes her head. “They won’t come out and vote. Dumb men will never leave him. Women. Women are my only hope.”

Cut to Donnie in the locker room with Billy, a vapid hanger on who mimics whatever’s being said. Billy scratches his crotch.

Go to Hillz outside the gym listening in as her earpiece crackles. She flashes back to sneaking into the locker room and mic-ing Billy’s jockstrap before putting it back in his locker.

As Donnie makes crude jokes, Hillz finds her pulse quickening. Then… gold.

“See those cheerleaders — I lift those skirts and just grab their pussies. You can do that when you’re Big Man on Campus…”

Hillz walk turns into a sprint as she breaks into the principal’s intercom room. And plays the tape over the loudspeaker.

The look of shock spreads from the Stoner section to the Emos to the Chess Club and Drama Class… and finally the Cheerleaders. You. Don’t. Fuck. With. Cheerleaders. In no time there’s Anti-Trump banners plastering the school. His campaign implodes.

Two days later it’s their final one-on-one debate.

For a fraction of a second Trump seems magnanimous as he turns to Hillz and says, “I made a promise to you.”

“And now I’ve also made a promise to everyone — to take you out of your dull lives, give you someone to talk about, make you feel more deeply than you ever have before, even if that feeling is hate, for the first time you feel alive. I’ve single-handedly revived the media and politics — which nobody paid attention to before me and won’t again after I leave.”

“So Hillary you can have the Student Body Presidency. Because Surprise! You’ve all been on my Hidden Camera TV show.”

Shock rolls through the crowd as cameras roll out of every hiding place conceivable. The Mascot takes off his head, which has a GoPro on it. Cameras pop out of the Scoreboards and Pom Poms.

Donnie plays them back one of his favorite moments — when he burst into the girls’ locker room with half of them naked. There are 50 camera angles.

“I never wanted to be President. School budgets? Hall Monitor Jobs? Public School Refugees? B-O-R-I-N-G. I’m the ultimate showman and you’ve all been on my first show to launch my TV Network —

RSN. The Racist and Sexist Network. The ratings will be yuuuge. Because 1/2 the country wants a “safe place” to be racist and sexist. And the other half wants to bemoan them in righteous anger. All from the comfort of their couches.

Everyone will be watching. You know you will. I’m your new guilty pleasure. And after this debut show with you Pleibs, my network will only be populated by women who are 10s. They’ll read the news. Naked.

But don’t worry, there’ll be shows for everyone. Even The Blacks. It’s called, ‘You All Live in Inner Cities and Your Life Sucks’.

Mexicans- we’ll have a competition show where you try to climb over the wall I’ve built while Border Patrol vigilantes shoot at you with BB guns.

We’ll have a gameshow called ISIS OR NO ISIS where we see if you can spot the Muslim terrorist in your neighborhood.”

The student body is stunned into silence. Then suddenly they shoot up exploding into clapping and hollering…

READ CHAPTER 2: “TEEN TRUMP: AFTER THE ELECTION”

ENDING IF HILLARY HAD WON THE ELECTION:

Hillary drops her mike and walks off. She wins the Student Body Presidency. Gets into Yale. Swears off Bad Boys.

Flash-forward To College:

A boy from rural Arkansas slips by her red flags. “He just fell off the cabbage truck from a town called Hope, for Chrissakes. He’ll make up for my folksy deficit and stay in my shadow.”

Flash-forward to 1992:

Bill Clinton accepting The Presidency as a headbanded Hillary glowers by his side.

Flash-forward To 2016: Hillary and Trump’s 50 Year High School Reunion:

Trump arrives and he and Hillary lock eyes across the room. They move toward each other as if in a dance.

“I never forgot about you, Mousey”, says Trump, touching her cheek. “You’ll always be the girl who got me a TV network.”

“I need you again, Donnie,” says Hillz.

Donnie smiles, “I knew you’d be back. The Presidency of the United States?”

Hillz nods. “If anybody reasonable is put up against me, I’ll lose. They still hate me.”

Donnie: “Consider it done. Have you seen the Republican Party? This will be easier than high school.”

Hillary impulsively hugs him. Her ambition so strong it turns hate into love.

Flash-forward to later that year- 3 weeks before the election:

Trump and Hillary have just eviscerated each other in the debate, as they walk back stage, Hillz puts out her hand for a hidden low 5 from Trump.

Trump whispers in her ear, “This election is definitely rigged.”

Hillary laughs loudly as they walk off into the sunset, “I wish I knew how to quit you, Donnie.”

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