The Republican Bureau

by Good Christian Ethesto

Rating: everyone
Tags: Random, Alternate Universe, Human, Comedy
Length: 6509

In an alternate America where Mitt Romney won the presidential election in 2012, things aren't going so well for the republican party. Thankfully, with the help of new, American technology, they can just make more republicans

In future America where Donald Trump won the presidential election of 2016, things aren't going so well for the republican party. Thankfully, with the help of new, American technology, they can just make more republicans. What could possibly go right?

A superior, American twist on conversion bureau garbage.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-25 04:29:13 UTC

A republican in the hand is worth two in the bush

Pentagon

Washington DC, United States of America, North America, Large Sphere America

8:00 AM American standard time

"Gentlemen, I trust you're all aware of why we're assembled here," spoke an elderly man in a voice manifest from lungs absolutely saturated in tar from years of eating cigarettes. He wore an olive green uniform bejewled with a plethora of medals and badges, earned from dozens of victories in the recent tour for world domination. Just in case any present miraculously weren't aware of why they were there, he gestured to a graph being projected behind him. A graph detailing the popularity of the Republican party.

"As you can clearly see, despite everything that's happened in two and a half short years our poll ratings are at an all-time low. It would appear the Democrat's Ace is working out even better than they'd expected," he went on. He was referring, of course, to Democrat-terrorist Bernie Sander's latest schemes to overthrow the republican regime.

"The next presidential election is less than a year away, and if we don't do something quick our glorious leader will never get reelected! With that said, do any of you have any ideas on what to do?" He finished, oscillating his head like a deformed, fleshy ceiling fan, gazing with his human eyes at all assembled.

After a few seconds of hushed whispers, one among them rose his hand, making him the focus of attention. "Have we tried killing all the democrats?" He suggested.

The man up front let out a sigh, rubbing his temples with one hand in frustration. "Of course we tried that. Unfortunately, the anti-democrat strain of ebola was ineffective, and ended up killing just as many republicans as democrats. of course we played it off as a natural disease. Didn't you read the memo?"

Pretty much everyone in the audience shrugged, having been too busy enjoying their freedoms to read anything, much less something boring like a "memo", whatever the heck that is! It seemed they were at a complete loss as to what to do. Perhaps republicans simply weren't fit to rule the greatest country on Large Sphere America after all. But wait, what's that on the rafters?!

All spotlights swiveled up to focus on a cloaked figure on an overhanging pathway. How mysterion, who could it possibly be?

After a few seconds of utmost mystery, he removed his cloak revealing himself to all present as none other than President Donald Trump. With a feat of acrobatics that would make a young Will Smith jealous, he hopped from the rafter, doing multiple flips, before landing perfectly on the front stage.

Let's check in with our judges to see how they felt about that. All 10's! Ladies and gentlemen, I can't believe it, Donald Trump got a perfect score! In all my years!

Donald Trump put up one human hand, instantly silencing the cheering and applause from everyone in the room. With them quiet, he finally opened his beak and let out a pre-speech screech. That's right, a beak. Donald Trump had long-since transcended his flimsy human shell to become a creature of pure freedom. Half human, half bald eagle. Basically Ra. "You have little faith, mortals," he squawked in a voice sounding like multiple voices talking at once. It was super spooky. Also, he's immortal apparently.

"You don't think I already have a plan on how to fix our little republican problem?" The entire room let out a collective 'Ooooooh', like a room full of impressed, Japanese business men.

After a moment, the other man up front approached, going to one knee in utmost respect for his glorious leader. "My freedom lord, I humbly beg that you will share your divine wisdom with us, your loyal servants, that we may help you achieve your goals." For good measure, he leaned down and gave Trump a kiss (with just the right amount of tongue) right on his big toe (left bare by his sandals).

"Get up you sniveling worm, lest I be compelled to feed you to my children for breakfast," he ordered. It's funny because birds eat worms. "Of course I'll share my plans with you, why do you think I bothered to come out here? You think I like wasting my time that could be used being free?" Spoiler alert: He totally doesn't like that at all.

"My plan is simple," Donald Trump said, "if I can't find more republicans, I'll make some instead."

The audience went into an uproar, each wanting to state out-loud how genius the idea was. That is, until Donald raised a human hand and silenced them once again.

"Foolish fools, I didn't even get to the good part yet. You see, using state-of-the-art freedom technology, we're going to travel to an alternate dimension, one completely devoid of either Republicans or Democrats, and we'll indoctrinate their population to voting for me. Then I can't possibly lose and I'll be free to rule the free world for another four years. Muahahaha!"

It was true, even as they spoke, preparations were underway setting up massive machines that would teleport all of North America to this new world. The unsuspecting fools wouldn't stand a ghost of a chance.

The Royal Palace

Canterlot, Equestria, Pony Earth

9:00 AM Communist Time

It was an ordinary-human day in Pony Land and all the- wait, scratch that. It wasn't human at all. Not even one single human lives in Pony Land, nor have they ever. Ponies don't even know what those are, humans I mean, and if you went up and asked one, "hey, what are humans?" they would shake their heads as if to say 'no'. As in, "no, I don't know what humans are and I'd appreciate if you'd stop wasting my time." because time is money, and in this economy you can't afford to be wasteful.

Regardless of such things, Princess Celestia flipped and flapped her blabbering gap like the jing tinglers, flu floopers, tar tinkers, who hoovers, gar ginkers, trum tupers, slu slumkers, blum bloopers, who wompers, zu zitter carzay, and who carnio flunxes that the kids are all into these days. "Gee, it sure is boring around here," said her.

"My princess," replied one of her royal advisers, and maybe her father or something, I don't know, "this peace is what all true princesses strive for."

"I'm not a little kid anymore and I'd appreciate if you wouldn't lecture me like one, jeez!" She yelled before storming off, making sure to slam the door on the way out to let everypony (I have autism) know she was angsty angry.

Her fingernails clippity clopped against the marble floor as she trotted down the palace corridor, still fuming to herself. That is, until she tripped over something that made an annoying sound, like a cat when its tail is being stepped on. She pushed herself up off the floor in that way that horses do, and turned to angrily glare at the object she tripped on, only to find that it was actually a pony. They were so tiny compared to her, she was always tripping on them. And not just any pony, it was Twilight Sparkle, her annoying little "student". Acting as though she cared for the educational system was good for publicity, as was appearing next to a cute little filly on horse TV, so she had to deal with this dweeb from time to time.

Afore-mentioned purple pony clambered up from the floor and looked up at Celestia with gargantuan eyes, full of enough eye-jelly to feed an army of tiny ogres. Once she realized who it was, she squealed like a school girl, happy that Celestia finally noticed her. "Oh, Celestia-Sempai, I'm so clumsy,"

"Like, whatever, I bet you did that on purpose. You ponies are always against me, I hope you all die. I should just run away and never come back ever!" With that said, she galloped down the hall and locked herself in her room, finally away from all her annoying subjects.

Young Twilight-Chan just stared off at where she left to, only able to form one thought in her tiny brain. "Oh no!" she yelled like an upset frenchman as she ran after her disgruntled sempai.

Pentagon

Washington DC, United States of America, North America, Large Sphere America

9:00 AM American standard time

"Now bear with me, I know things may seem a bit grizzly because the world we're traveling to is the polar opposite of ours, but try not to feel blue, because this is what we're doing for the good of America," said Donald with his bird-human beak-mouth.

"I hate bear puns." said a forlorn parliament member.

"Gobi an idiot somewhere else," replied Donald Trump's right hand man, a lowly human by the name of Mr. Vice President.

"Stop pandaring to me, Mr. Vice President," said Donald, cold even to his closest of followers as a true leader should be.

"Koallah Akhbear," offered Mr. Vice President, but the metaphorical horse had already been beaten far too much by now and it was time to move on.

"Shut up, it's time to get serious."

With the bear pun desenter officially shut-the-fuck-upped, the room of Republicans made their way to Donald Trump's secret lair under the twin towers (because Donald Trump got elected he was able to stop 9/11, still think Bernie Sanders is cool?) and made their way to a machine that could only be described by this picture since a picture is worth 1,000 words:

"Wow, what a magnificent piece of machinery," shouted a republican that was well-aged like fine wine as he stroked a single finger through his perfectly-trimmed goatee.

"Mother of Got," another gasped, marveling at the result of years and years of freedom science manifest.

"Indeed, it is quite magnificent," Donald Trump confirmed, floating up to the machine unopposed by gravity. He placed one bird-human hand-talon on its smooth surface, feeling the cold metal with a tender touch.

Mr. Vice President stepped forward and knelt before his master, "I humbly beg you forgive my impotence, my lord, but how does it work?"

    "It uses revolutionary Republican technology," explained Donald Trump,"you see, the three most Republican things on this planet are Jesus, sarcasm, and disliking the poor. Knowing that, it was pretty simple to combine these three principals of our party to create the ultimate machine."

"That's truly fasc-"

"Shut up dreg, I'm going to fillet you, there's way more complicated stuff to cover," screeched Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump, "the device releases proton beams at near light speed in a large, circular shape exactly the diameter of North America. These proton beams rapidly circle the continent, slamming into each other at six hundred million miles per hour. The rate at which they collide creates a series of miniature black holes, all an inch across, around the entire continent. These black holes are then supercharged, causing them to rapidly atomize the whole of North America, reassembling it in a different dimension."

"That's truly fasc-"

"Silence your disgusting, non-bird-human-beak-mouth, you dumb idiot, lest I shut it permanently with a backhand that will propel you off of America and into the sun," Trump ordered, every vain in his body filled to the brim with an inhuman rage. In fact, it was so inhuman, that one could argue that it was actually half-bald-eagle. Without another word, he began operating the machine, typing the coordinates for the alternate dimension.

5-8-0-0-8

The small army of republicans looked on in confusion, too naive to possibly understand the sheer amount of freedom that had just unfolded before them. Then, suddenly, with the speed and grace of a bald eagle, the machine flipped over 180 degrees and all the republicans gasped in understanding!

8-0-0-8-5

Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump stood stoically as the beams of light(no, idiot they're protons) shot out of the device and did exactly what he said they would do. Of course nobody could have predicted that having your entire body ripped apart atom by atom would hurt, and also Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump had to lower his ki shields so he wasn't too invincible for the black holes to science him into oblivion.

Everyone's collective causality was ripped to shreds in an instant, before being flung across time and space, literally spanning the entire universe in one Planck Time. This shattered the void of the Universe's ever expanding edge, causing them to cruise through the space between multiverses, and into the nearest one, where they, as predicted by the all knowing Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump, were reassembled on a new planet, where there were no Democrats or Republicans to speak of.

"Wow, that was truly fasc-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

He was a republican boy, she said 'I want some eggs boy'

The Royal Palace

Canterlot, Equestria, Pony Earth

10:00 AM Communist Time

Celestia sat alone in her room, legs folded like the largest pretzel you can possibly imagine. Nobody understood her or her feelings, and she hated this stuffy old palace. She wished some knight in shining armor would conveniently and scientifically appear and whisk her away to a new, shining land, where she didn't have any problems. A land where she could be free, and didn't have to deal with ponies ever again. As if that would ever happen...

Suddenly she heard a knock at the door, and her legs unfolded and then refolded into a standing position, and she angrily glared at the door while simultaneously rolling her eyes. "Like, what the heck do you want? Leave me alone, I, like, want to be alone."

Normally Captain Original Character would have complied with his princess' demand, but today he had something very important to tell her. "It's actually urgent," he explained. "I'm cumming in the door."

"No, wait!" Celestia cried, tears streaming down her face, but it was too late, and Captain Origami Character came into the room and saw her wearing absolutely nothing.

"Oh, Jesus Christ," he shouted, barely able to cover his larger-than-average eyeballs with his arms, "put on some clothes you disgusting freak."

Celestia quickly covered herself with a towel with her favorite boy band on it, and blushed so furiously the blush cells in her cheeks were filled with an inhuman rage. It was probably inhuman because she's a horse. "Didn't you hear me? Don't you get it?! I. Want. To. Be. Alone!"

"I'm a magic horse that wants to be alone. Be alone. Be alone. Be alone. I'm a magic horse that wants to be alone, so just let me be a grump. You can talk about my horsin' and my grumpin' around, you can talk about my lonely days. But you must understand, I must have my princess ways."

"Be that as it may," Captain Original Character continued, "there's an emergency, and we need your input as the princess of all pony kind."

Celestia had been rolling her eyes this entire time, and they'd been slowly picking up speed. "Like, what the heck could possibly be so important?"

"Well, our advanced, magical radar has detected a new continent that appeared literally out of nowhere a few miles off the coast, which is kinda a big deal I guess, so you should probably do something about that."

"Ugh, just get Luna to deal with it or something, I'm busy lamenting."

"Luna has Asperger's, she couldn't rule her way out of a wet paper bag," replied Captain Original Gangsta Character, "she's still trying to get out of the last one you put her in."

"Ugh fine, whatever," said Celestia as she got up and headed out the door, her moist, bio-luminescent horse pussy wafting in the breeze. She cantered down the hallway and into the Room of Infinite Mystery, which was a cozy little room with exactly two windows, each of which had plaid drapes. The walls of this room were exactly ten feet high as well as ten feet across, they were made of cinderblocks, and we're adorned with blue floral pattern wallpaper. The hardwood floor had a white shag carpet with exactly thirty six cookie crumbs nestled in its depths. There was one chair in the room, it was a blue electronic recliner, with slightly indented cushions from moderate use. The cushions themselves were filled with high-tech memory foam. Next to it was a 20 year-old oak nightstand with one shallow drawer which contained six old copies of Horse Beat magazines. At the third wall, which was directly across from the mahogany double doors, there was a telecomputron, which was exactly 37 inches tall, 27 inches wide, and 18 inches long, resulting in its total volume being 17,982 inches³.

"Telecomputron, apparently a new continent has appeared on Pony Earth, please locate it, and give me the coordinates," Celestia commanded. The Telecomputron said nothing, and remained powered off as she gave it a rude look. "Telecomputron, I demand the coordinates. Don't make me ask again," she said threateningly. After a few moments she waltzed up to it, bearing her fangs and hissing, venom squirting from the hollow tips of her barbed teeth, "I don't like being ignored(except for earlier when she wanted to be alone)."

"You need to type your query into the keyboard," explained Captain Original Character, but not the same one that was at her room. This was actually that Captain Original Character but from the future because he was stuck in a time rift that existed in the Room of Infinite Mystery and had been for over two thousand years.

Celestia Blushed, forgetting that he was there. "I-it's not like I didn't know that or anything, b-baka!" Doing a back flip, Celestia landed on the adjacent wall, sticking to it with the spider-like hairs on her horse feet. Pushing a button, the shag carpet was pulled up into the rafters via a series of pulleys, revealing a giant keyboard, with keys large enough for a horse to use.

She stepped down, and tap danced her question onto the keyboard, prompting the telecomputron to power up and give her an answer, but not before it scanned her with a magical laser. "Welcome Xx360noPrincessxX. I'd love to answer your question, but I am but a humble computron. I don't know anything about some continent."

"Well, look it up on Horse Google," Celestia yelled, angrier than a bucket full of mongooses in a Dutch Oven.

"I don't actually even have internet, you only had me installed so you can pretend this room is important," replied the telecomputron.

Celestia huffed and puffed and blew the Room of Infinite Mystery down, creating more homeless pigs, and negatively impacting the economy. If only she had a top-tier politician who knew how to take something as paltry as a small loan of a million dollars, and turn it into a moderately popular TV show about celebrities trying to run a business.

"I guess I'll just go use my iPhone then," said Celestia, who is an idiot hipster who buys inferior products at twice the price cuz "muh aluminum shell." Seriously, you're all fucking retarded, Apple has always been years behind any given Android phone. Android is more accessible, more customizable, it's cheaper, it's fucking better in every way. There is literally no fucking excuse to ever buy an Apple product, you're getting scammed. iPhones just got swipe text, how long have we had that? Oh, only four fucking years.

So Celestia pulled out her inferior, overpriced piece of shit, and waited three whole minutes for Safari to get its shit together before she was finally able to Google search the location of the new continent.

"Alright, it's at Latitude:S 8° 46' 59.502". Longitude:W 124° 30' 30.6828." said Celestia,"I'll be there in like, fifteen minutes." she said as she punched the coordinates into Apple Maps.

New Freedom Air Force Base

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

10:15 AM Communist Time(Soon to be American Standard Time)

Donald Trump stepped out of his private jet, which was shaped like a large, phallic object. Not that he was compensating for something, or anything like that, his genitals were actually quite impressive as far as birds go, but that's beside the point. As soon as he moved into view of the pubic, he was beset by so much clapping. Many of his adoring fans had gathered, some camping out for days just to catch a glimpse of their glorious leader. All of them were Caucasian, and absolutely 100% American(otherwise they wouldn't have been allowed in America to begin with), so there was no security concern at all.

Trump hardly offered the lot a single gaze as he had much bigger, important things to get done. Namely, the creation of some 2.2 billion new republicans, or so his scientists had estimated. 'How?', you ask. Well just fucking pay attention and you won't have to ask stupid questions to yourself, you dumb idiot.

Like the late David Blaine, he floated over the crowd and into a nearby hangar, which was filled with noble American soldiers loading a red, white, and blue AN-225 with crates. "Be careful, the contents of those boxes are the key to our victory," he ordered, getting a well-practiced salute from everyone in hearing range.

"My liege, if I may be so bold," started Mr. Vice President, nervous in the service, as he rubbed his hands together, "may I be made privy of your plans."

Donald's eyes gave off a harsh, ultra-violet glow as he activated his x-ray vision, scanning the contents of the boxes. "Using billions of taxpayer dollars, my scientists have synthesized a new type of pill that can indoctrinate xenos into noble, God-fearing republicans, aptly naming them 'republinol'. Made from a careful mixture of money, bible verses, BBQ, apple pie, and money, they will transform even the most communist of xeno into a republican, or your money back."

"Absolutely fascinating," said Mr. Vice President as he got an idea. An awful idea. Mr. Vice President got a wonderful, awful idea.

Just then, Captain John Washington, approached them, giving a salute that was pretty good if I'm gonna be honest. "My President! We've detected a xeno heading towards this exact spot at high speeds. Should we engage?"

Donald chuckled to himself, realizing that this would be the perfect opportunity to test his new republipills out. "No, I'll deal with this intruder myself."

Just as he had finished formulating and vomiting out that glorious sentence, a white, clearly magical horse appeared, hovering high above the humans and bird-human below.

Donald Trump smirked and flapped his wings, flapping his flappers so hard that he rose to meet Celestia in midair.

"Like, why have you bunch of dweebs appeared here?" Asked Celestia.

"Pshh... nothin' personnel.... kid," replied Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump, being as cool as any being could hope to be. The communism that laced every syllable of the magic horse's words stung his pure, American ears, but he knew better than to show that to this new potential foe/voter, "we were just trying to strengthen our political party."

"What party might that be? The Horse Party? That's like, totally the only party I've ever heard of."

Donald cringed internally as another wave of concentrated communism completely coated his earballs, dousing his little listeners in the tongue of an impossible economic system.

"Perhaps we can discuss this over the traditional meal of my people," replied Trump.

"And what meal might that be?"

"A healthy dose of beer, biscuits, and a big fucking t-bone steak."

"I'd be delighted to join you, all horses totally looove meat. I love eggs personally, ponies have no time for dirt-devouring beasts. We've got to have eggs, thrice a day at least.

"Well maybe we can just give you some eggs and bacon or something, with a Caesar salad on the side."

"You imbecilic eater, great green gobs couldn't possibly be sweeter, than a pile of eggs." (It's ironic because Donald Trump is a bird).

"Okay, we'll get you some fuckin' eggs."

And so it was that Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump and Magic Horse swooped down to feast upon cow flesh and chicken menstruation.

Red Dead Bread Stick Redemption

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.

More like the Ovary Office xDDDD

The Oval Office

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

10:45 AM Communist Time(Soon to be American Standard Time)

"Wow, you like, live here?" wondered Celestia, who'd never seen a house as big and white as this except the palace that she lives in, of course. Her eyes were rolling so fast she was able to see every detail of the room at the speed of light.

"Yeah," Donald said, like it was no big deal, "it's, like, no bid deal," he said like it wasn't a big deal. "This room is called the Oval Office, but, to tell you the truth, I'd much prefer to get into your ova(ry)l office, if you catch my driftwood," he said with a wink.

Celestia's cheeks turned so hot, the walls and furniture began melting, and she averted her gaze. She couldn't lie, this Donald Trump fellow was pretty attractive, and she was hankerin' for a spankerin' if you catch my driftwood. "Well, I guess I wouldn't be completely against that. N-not that I'm desperate or anything, b-baka!" she finished, whipping her twin horse tails around in embarrassment.

But before they could get to that spankerin', Celestia suddenly felt very woozy, and she dizzily stumbled over to a chair. Donald's bird lips twisted into a smile as he knew precisely what was happening. The republinol was finally taking effect. There was a great big flash, everything just changed, her molecules got all rearranged. When she first woke up she realized she had wrinkly white skin, and a republican mind. Within moments, her organs and bones had rearranged themselves into a superior, human arrangement, and the chemicals in her brain rearranged themselves into a superior, republican arrangement. Though, she ended up more as a wrinkly mass than a normal human. She was like two-thousand years-old after all.

"Wow, would you look at that. You turned into a republican," Trump said nonchalantly as he took off his pants. Thankfully, he had a granny fetish, so he really had no problem with this. Of course Celestia didn't hear a word he said as she wasn't wearing her hearing aid today.

Without wasting any more time, Trump moved in and grabbed her arm, lifting it up to expose the even-more-wrinkled flesh of her armpit. Trump absolutely loved armpits. In his personal opinion, they were the most sexy part of a woman's body. He leaned in and sniffed it, savoring the sweet, slightly fowl(it's ironic because he's a bird), smell of sweat that was wafting from her underarm. Poking his tongue out between his teeth, he prodded her bare skin with his meat member.

His eyes widened, and he began salivating, his tongue twisting and expunging all of its saliva at once as it instead absorbed the salty liquid from her armpit. In a moment, he'd sucked the pit dry, and he pulled back, his eyes closing as he savored it like a fine wine. "Daijobu," Trump remarked, feeling his heart going 'doki doki' in his chest.

Wasting no more time, Trump turned around and bent over, exposing his genitals. Most birds don't actually have external genitals, and the same was true for him. His 'penis' was simply a hole just below his anus, and while it may have seemed strange, it was actually an impressive size when compared to that of other birds. Donald's face turned red as he squeezed, almost instantly expelling a thick glob of cum from the hole and onto Celestia's still-exposed armpit.

Of course, by this point, Celestia had already been dead for over a minute, being far older than any human could ever manage, and the force of Trump's big, American cummies caused her withered, decrepit husk of a corpse to practically disintegrate into a fine powdery dust, filling the air and covering all the furniture. Trump coughed a bit as he accidentally breathed some Celestia in, and he ordered a few maids(that weren't Mexican) to come in and clean up the mess.

Donald Trump pressed a button on his desk, which sent out Republican Frequency Waves, summoning his entire  Republican cabinet, save for the Mr.Vice President who probably had a prior engagement, not that Vice Presidents matter anyway.

In a flash, lasting fifteen minutes, mostly containing, wheezing and complaining about a lack of chairs, the Republicans made their way to the Oval Office.

"Gentlemen, I have some stupacular news to share with you vile ingrates," said Bald-Donald Eagle-Trump as he walked behind his desk with his hands folded behind his back just like the presidents in the movies do,"republinol was a rousing success, it turned one of the natives in to a full-grown, living, breathing Republican woman."

Once again the Republicans "ooohed" like a group of impressed Japanese business men.

"So where is this living, breathing Republican woman?" Inquired the lowliest of the Republican cabinet.

"Could somebody more important please ask me that same question? I don't feel comfortable answering such a lowly, sad little man." Requested Trump.

"So where is this living, breathing Republican woman?" Inquired the second least lowly member of the Republican cabinet.

"A fair question, and I shall answer honestly, as all politicians do," said Trump dramatically, "she crumbled into dust shortly after I came on her armpit."

"That's really fucking disgusting." Stated the third least lowly Republican.

"You're missing the point, our plan will work," said Trump as he sat down at his desk with a smirk on his face," we just have to get republinol into the native's food supply. Then we will have our army of right-wing voters all sucking at my generous teats, securing my victory in the next election."

"With so many republicans on our side, we'll finally be able to get rid of those pesky Mexicans once and for all," another republican exclaimed, getting shouts of agreement from the rest of them.

At the mere mention of that inferior race, Trump's brow furrowed, and he began to speak once again. "Yes, those Mexicans can't be trusted. What can you expect from filthy little heathens? Their whole disgusting race is like a curse. Their skins a shittish brown. They must be taken down. They're vermin as I said, and worse. They're Mexicans! Mexicans! Barely even human. Mexicans! Mexicans! Drive them from our country! They're not like you and me, which means they must be evil. Now we build a wall for sure!"

The Republicans juked and jived like a bunch of rattlesnakes in a dutch oven, and they sang all the way to the air-force base, where the AN-225 was waiting, ready to go. There, Mr. Vice President was waiting, seemingly not having gotten the memo about the meeting, and him and Trump got in the plane.

"So, what's the 4-1-1?" Wondered Mr. Vice President, sure to use all the hip-hoppinist lingo so he can stay cool with the youngins like Anakin Skywalker.

"You'd have known that if you came to the meeting," Trump sulked, annoyed that his very own 2nd in command had blown him off.

"Oh come on, don't be like that," Mr. Vice President tried to console, patting the president on the back.

"It sets a bad example for all the underlings if not everyone shows up," he said, refusing to make eye contact with his Vice.

"I know what will cheer you up," Donald immediately turned, eyes wide and excited as Mr. Vice President pulled out a red, white, and blue bomb pop.

"Wowzer mister, is that for me?!" Trump gushed, barely able to contain his excitement and immediately forgetting why he was even upset in the first place.

"You know Donald," started Mr. Vice President as he handed the president his treat, while also handing him some important advice, "you can build walls around people all you want, but never build a wall around your heart. If you ever have anything on your mind, you can always count on me."

"Thanks Turbo man, I mean Mr. Vice President," Trump exclaimed between licks. He was so glad he could at least always count on his vice president to be there for him. He was such a swell guy, and definitely the most loyal person in the entire republican cabinet. "How long until we get to that dumb horse country?"

"We've already been there for like 10 minutes," explained Mr. Vice President, "our glorious American airplane is able to fly at the speed of free."

Sure enough, they had already landed in the middle of one of the pony's towns, and the crew had already begun unloading the cargo. "Alright then, time to go make some republicans."