I sat on a tiny wooden bench outside the main college campus square, wearing an edgy, ironic t-shirt from Hot Topic, and a leather fedora adorned on my head, which I proudly tipped whenever students passed by. You see, it was a rainy day, and I was almost done with my daily reading of the U.S. Constitution and Declaration of Independence, the two greatest pieces of literature known to humankind (It's important not to say...mankind... or I will, along with everybody around me, be triggered). I had just finished the 32nd amendment when, suddenly, I saw a drunken man, who began to walk slowly toward me. He appeared to be wearing a blonde wig. Perhaps it was his actual hair, the details are fuzzy today. Regardless, I do distinctly remember his hair being a mess. He began shouting racial slurs to some of the students walking buy, and each time he shouted a slur his hair would grey a little, until it became completely white. Finally, he turned to me and shouted, at the top of his white, privileged, opressive lungs: "You're a loser." I was shocked and, my hand shaking, I dropped my copy of the Constitution onto the ground. "What the hell is that?" The man asked. "The... the constitution". I was agawk. I was aghast. Who was this man? And why was he such an asshole? The man picked it up, scanned the document, laughed, and tossed it into the nearby trashcan. "Well that was garbage," he said. "I've taken dumps that were better than that document. Who wrote that piece of crap anyhow?" "James Madison, and some help from Thomas Jefferson." The man looked at me up and down, paused, and then said: "They both sound like yoooj losers." "Who are you?" I asked, wondering who this brazen man was. "Most people call me an asshole, or annoying, or whiny." I was going to ask him what his actual name was, but my stomach growled. I was hungry. "I'm hungry," I said. "Hi hungry, I'm Donald Trump." He extended his arm to do a handshake and then furiously pumped his hand up and down, making sure to keep eye contact with me the whole time. His head quivered slightly with each pump, and each time he pumped his hand his eyes would bulge out of his eyes more and more. I don't really remember exactly but I think we were about 60 or 70 hand pumps in until my hand got sore and I had to stop the handshake. I was about to tell him my name until, suddenly, a white police officer nearby took out his pistol and pointed it at us. "STOP RIGHT THERE CRIMINAL SCUM!" He shouted. I was confused what I did, but put I still put my hands up. However, I noticed that while Mr. Trump standed tough, he still did not have his hands up. "Why don't you have your hands up?" I asked him, worried at any second the cop would shoot. He smiled at me. "I'm white," he said. He took out a tophat, a long wooden cane, and a monocle that he carefully placed on his left eye. He tapped on the ground three times with his cane, and then wiggled his ears, vanishing into the air, leaving nothing but a hat that said "Make America great again!" My palms were sweaty, my knees were weak, my arms were heavy. Honestly, I thought I was going to vomit already considering I had just eaten some spaghetti my mom sent me a couple hours ago. Let's just say I was nervous. But then I had a plan. The cop moved in to arrest me, but before he could I swiftly reached down to my copy of the Declaration of Independence. I raised it up into the air, and shouted "WE... THE PEOPLE!" The cop's smile quickly turned into a frown. "Shit!" He said. "This one knows his rights as a citizen!" A flash of white light bursted from the page, knocking back the police officer onto the ground. The white police officer began writhing on the floor, turning into a liquid, until all that was left was a pool of water and the Declaration of Independence. True story.