Interview with a Dhampir
Hello, I’m Ellen Skunt, disgraced NBC reporter turned big titty hot tub Twitch streamer. Today, I’m speaking with President Trump."
“Hello, Ellen.”
“Mr. President—”
“That’s a lovely pool you have there. What is that—five, six inches of water?”
“Six inches, Mr. President.”
“Nice, nice. What are those, real diamonds?”
“It’s a bedazzled foldable dog pool, sir.”
“Lovely. How much did it cost?”
“Uh, 30 bucks off Amazon.”
“Well you’re just the bitch I’d want to see in it.”
“Thank you, Mr. President. You’ve long fashioned yourself as a political outsider, even before your consciousness was transferred to a nuclear-powered bionic android.”
“Mhmm.”
“Now that we’re in the 375th year of your Eternal Reign, what do you-”
“Yes, I’ve been an outsider for a long time, Ellen.”
“I’m not done asking my-”
“A long, long…”
“…”
“Long time.”
“Mr. President.”
“You’re like the Lady of the Lake, you know that?”
“The Lady of the Lake, sir?
“You know, the gal who gave King Arthur the sword. Have you ever read King Arthur?”
“No.”
“He was a stupendous man, King Arthur. A once and future king.”
“Mr. President.”
“Sort of like me. My father was a stupendous man too. Absolutely stupendous. I was an outsider all my life, you know?”
“Yes, that’s what I wanted to ask about—”
“My father sent me to a gothic boarding school in a magical realm.”
“In a…magical realm, sir?”
[Trump nodding] “A boarding school for vampires.”
“Vampires?”
“I was the youngest and smallest in the whole place. The littlest vampire, that’s what they called me.”
“Mr. President, forgive me for saying so, but it’s well documented that you went to a private school in Queens…”
“And I wasn’t even a full-blooded vampire.”
“…followed by a military academy in…”
“Do you know what they called me?”
[Ellen pauses] “…no.”
“They called me retard.”
“…”
“And a Dhampir. Which means half-breed.”
“…”
“It’s Spanish or something.”
“…”
“But mostly retard.”
“…Mr. President.”
“The littlest retard Dhampir.”
“Mr. President please.”
“Hm?”
“What you’re describing sounds like a movie—”
“Well…”
“Or a TV show.”
“Who’s to say?”
“You are, Mr. President.”
“Hm?”
“It’s your life.”
“And what a life it’s been.”
[DING DING DING]
“What’s that?”
[Ellen sighs] “I just hit 30 million followers.” [She bends over, baring her fat plump cheeks] “There’s a bowl of doggie treats on your right, sir.”
“This one here?”
“Yes, Mr. President.” [She puts on a pair of dog ears] “I need you to bounce the doggie treats off my ass while I twerk.”
[Trump takes a treat in hand.] “That’s a cute tail you’ve got, Ellen.”
“It’s a buttplug, Mr. President.”
[He grins] “Of course it is. Six inches?” Ω