The MAGA Chronicles is a new series that takes you on a journey with Trump’s America, where narcissism and depravity know no bounds.
I never wanted to hurt my sister, but the monster must die.
My hurried footsteps echo against the walls of the bare corridor in time with my heartbeat. Lights flicker overhead. An alarm wails in the distance, but I’m not afraid of what’s coming. Having made love to many, many beautiful countries just before arriving here, all at once, I’m invigorated–and out for blood.
This is a story of fervor and pain,
of two lovers in political chains.
Have you ever found yourself in a terrible situation because of love? Mexico has. With his last breath drawing near, body wracked with pain as he lay dying in a pool of his own blood, he tries to remember the stupid decisions that lead up to this point so he can regret them one last time.
With a loud crack, wood splintered from the bar counter and went flying into the air that was thick with the smell of cigars and gunpowder–but, unfortunately, not into the dirt-stained face of that weasely American bastard.
Ever wondered what the future of US foreign affairs would look like if Trump were actually elected? Here’s a look at some of the possible ways we might butcher our international relations.
The US under a Trump presidency:
America: Mexico! Hey! Mexico! Mexico: What? Is that you, Satan? America: What did you just call me? Mexico? Mexico: I can’t—I can’t make out what you’re saying! America: Damn. It’s really hard to talk to someone with a giant Berlin-esque wall between ya. Okay, Plan B. [pulls out phone and dial’s Mexico’s number] Mexico: That’s much better.
They’d only been trapped in the elevator for two minutes before America started freaking out. The moment Mexico looked over, he saw his neighbor pressed into the corner, eyes wide and a light coat of perspiration on his face.
245 jets. 8 seats. Double waterfalls. Remote monitoring. Saltwater sanitation. Pillows. Cup holders. Blinky LED lights that change color. A surround sound entertainment system compatible with any kind of music player and a minibar just three feet away.
America could brag that his hot tub was ‘the sexiest you’ve ever seen,’ and he was probably right. And everyone who attended his ‘Mind-Blowing Jacuzzi Party’ would agree. Well, everyone except Hungary, who said he’d “seen better” and was then promptly told by America to “go stand in the corner and think about what you’ve done.”