Once upon a time in the not-so-distant land of Twitterville, there lived a man named Donald Trump, known far and wide for his remarkable aim with… well, his phone. But this story isn’t about tweets. No, this is about the time Trump became a hero in the face of tyranny. The villain of this tale? Kamala Harris, the cackling vice-regent of a land that really needed to sort out its electoral college issues. She had a hat, but instead of placing it on her head where hats generally go, she decided to stick it on top of the Washington Monument, demanding that everyone bow to it.
Now, most people, being sensible folk who didn’t want to make a scene, humored her with a quick bow while rolling their eyes. But not Trump. No way. He stood there, as defiant as a fast food menu at 3 a.m., refusing to bend the knee. “Bow to the hat?” he scoffed. “My hair doesn’t bow, and neither do I.”
Kamala, infuriated by this act of disrespect, devised a wicked punishment. She pointed to Trump’s son, Barron, who was quietly minding his own business playing Fortnite, and declared, “You must shoot an apple off his head with your best weapon—no, not Twitter—a crossbow!” Trump, with his usual flair, agreed, though not without pointing out that this was “probably the most ridiculous thing since windmills were blamed for cancer.”
So, the moment arrived. The apple was placed on Barron’s head, and the world held its breath. Trump, of course, didn’t bat an eye. He whipped out a gold-plated crossbow—because what else would Trump use?—took aim, and fired. The bolt flew true, splitting the apple in half with the precision of a man who’s spent way too much time golfing. Barron, cool as ever, didn’t flinch. He was probably still thinking about Fortnite.
But the plot thickened. Kamala noticed Trump had pulled out not one, but two arrows. “What’s the second arrow for?” she asked, trying to sound intimidating but accidentally tripping over her own cackle. Trump, ever the showman, shrugged and said, “If I missed, I’d have aimed the next one right at you. Simple as that.” The crowd gasped, and Kamala, now seething, ordered Trump’s arrest, but we all know how this story goes. On the way to her palace—or was it the Capitol?—Trump, of course, escaped, probably with the help of a very luxurious helicopter.
Trump eventually tracked Kamala down and, in classic hero fashion, outwitted her. Some say it was with his infamous “You’re fired!” line. Others say he used golf metaphors until she gave up out of sheer exhaustion. Either way, Trump returned victorious, Kamala’s hat in his hand, and everyone decided that bowing to hats was probably not the best way to run a country.
And thus, Donald Trump became a legend, a modern-day William Tell with better hair and bigger ratings. The end
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