/lit/ - Literature

>>3836727

>every brewer I know

Hot brunette, big tits, admiring my brand new pocket watch. It's good quality fool's gold, easily worth ninety bucks. I give her the patented glare - recoiling, she moans 'Trump'.

Jackpot.

I wake up early, always. The day's to be won in those cold, bright hours. I sip a java, finest Columbian, then sniff a little nose candy from a tight, olive-skinned torso: double-ditto. I take the express lift downstairs - it's the only one - and jump in my jet black car. It's Mercedes, second hand, and my Driver is called 'Mike Danetti'. He has broad hands and a good work ethic. I like that in a driver. Specifically, in this driver.

I arrive at Trump tower around Trump time. Baby, it's always Trump time. I have pretty good mirror coverage in the lobby. Get a strong, objective look at my muscles and hair. Looking Trump - as per usual. I trump up to the fourth floor, giving my minions high trumps or booty trumps - depending on their gender and attractiveness. Being a man will disqualify you from a booty trump. Being ugly will disqualify you from a booty trump. Capisce?

I reach Trump office. Trump HQ.

"This, my dear, is where the Trump goes down. You dig?"

They always dig. By quarter-past-Trump I'm getting my Trump ravaged by some eager hardbody. Gadzooks that hits the trump.

"You just earned a promotion, bitch. Now get outta the Trumptub!"

I take a hot, lonely shower; after, I dry myself with an embossed towel I stole - initials 'B.B.'. I pour a half carafe of lime juice.

"Yuh fyured!"