The Republican Bureau

Olive Garden

America, Equestria(Soon to be America), Pony Earth(Soon to be America)

10:30 AM Communist Time(Soon to be American Standard Time)

"Hou hou, bonjour madaam y el Presidente," said the American waiter as he approached the duo, curling his pencil-mustache between two fingers. "Wouldzu likea zum bread shtickssss?"

"Do we look like a couple of smelly vegans? Of course we don't want bread sticks!" Yelled Trump, who wanted only to devour meat laced with protein, and maybe a side of sweet chicken tenders, taters and gravy, a biscuit, and a big ol' cookie.

"Zese bread sticks are reeeeally good, hou hou," he argued, trying to put them on the table anyway, but Trump was too fast, and he smacked them out of his hand, knocking them to the floor.

"Breadsticks are for the birds," said Trump as pigeons swooped down and devoured the crumbly yeast nuggets (it's ironic because he's also a bird).

Celestia chuckled. Being part bird herself, she could appreciate a good joke about birds, or two. Her and Trump sure had a lot in common. It was then that her horsey tummy rumbled, hungry for grub. "Me me hungry. Me me hungry," she said rolling her eyes.

"Of course, mi petit shouflour, it'd be mi pleasuracena to takea zi order of such a loooovely beast," the waiter said, batting his eyelashes and giving himself a concussion.

Celestia's eyes rolled around at the speed of sound, as she sighed annoyedly at the waiter. "Like, totally ewith," she remarked, totally not into peasants that had to work for a living. "I won't settle for the dregs, bring me a whole plate of eggs. A whole nest full, in fact."

"Zu want breadshticks vith zat?" he asked, holding another basket of bread sticks behind his back.

"Alright, fine," Celestia relented, tired of hearing about bread sticks. The waiter was overjoyed, and went to put the bread sticks on the table, only for Celestia to bat them out of his hand with a hoof. "Syke."

As they fell to the ground in slow motion, the waiter yelled. "Noooo!" He dived, tears welling up in his eyes as his precious bread sticks tumbled haphazardly towards the Earth at approximately 9.8 meters per second squared minus air friction. He was too slow, however, and the bread sticks struck the hard ground, shattering into a million, billion pieces on impact, and being scattered in the wind. The waiter sat there, staring at his hands, unable to believe that he'd let them slip away. "I thought they were good, strong hands," he mumbled to himself.

Celestia lol'd out loud. "Bread sticks are for the ants," she joked as thousands of ants carried the crumbs back to their colonies (it's ironic because she's an aunt).

Donald trump rofl'd out loud at the display, being thoroughly amused. "Oh wow, Celestia. For a filthy, communist xeno, you're a pretty swell guy."

Celestia blushed, realizing for the first time that Donald Trump was pretty cute. "Actually, I'm a girl." Trump's eyes bobbed out of his head like in 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit', and he noticed for the first time her six boobs on her tummy. "Oooo, hot momma," he caw'd, before suppressing the involuntary urge to fuck her right then and there, realizing that she wasn't even a human or a republican.

"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat to change the subject, "I want a stake, the biggest one around. I don't care if you have to butcher a whole cow, I want a T-bone at least half the size of my body."

"Vat shud ve do vith ze rest of ze cow?" the waiter wondered.

"I don't care, put it in the trash or something," Trump shrugged.

So the waiter went off to tell the chefs in the back about the Presidential Order that had just been made. Neither of their orders were on the menu, but it didn't matter cuz Olive Garden is a bro like that. Celestia and Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump sat in silence as they awaited their delicious treats, and after approximately 45 minutes, they saw the waiter bringing them their food.

The waiter placed a literal pile of eggs, forty in total, which is as many as four tens, and therefore terrible in front of the magical horse.

"Great googly moogly these eggs sure do look super delicious," said Celestia as she popped one into her mouth, closing her eyes as she savored the flavor of the shell and yolk. While her eyes were closed, Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump slipped a republinol into the bottom of her mini-mountain of eggs.

"And here iz yor deliiiicious steak Monsieur Trump," said the waiter as he lifted a massive T-bone, and placed it in front of the birdman.

Donald Trump licked his bird lips and picked up his fork and knife, carving into the charred flesh of his prey, impaling the piece onto his fork and placing it in his gaping maw. He chewed only once, for a moment or two, before spitting out the disgusting food.

He lifted the steak, looking at the space from which he had cut his first bite, only to see that dozens of breadsticks had been crammed inside the massive meat treat.

"You traitorous fiend," said Donald angrily, as he leapt from the table, dive-bombing the waiter before he could even try to run away. He gripped the poor fool's skull in his mighty talons, crushing the man's head into tiny pieces.

Celestia watched in awe, popping eggs into her mouth one by one(republinol included) as Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump thrashed the man's corpse, ripping out the intestines. He then angrily made his way to the breadstick steak, grabbing them by the fistful, and stuffing them into the chest cavity and open neckhole of the cadaver.

"You want me to eat these fucking breadsticks so bad then fine," shouted Donald as he lifted the dead body above his head and unhinged his jaw like an eagle, swallowing the former waiter whole.

"Come on, we're leaving," said Trump as he stormed out of the Olive Garden, Celestia following him closely behind.

Once they were outside, Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump's eyes glowed as he activated his Presidential Powers, erecting a massive wall around the Olive Garden, while simultaneously forcing said Olive Garden to cover the cost of such a structure.