Making It Great Again
"You're serious?" Mabel asked.
Dipper was sweating, anxious, like he was trying all he could to keep himself together. A single off second, and he could just explode right then and there. There's nothing like confessing your love for your sister at your great-uncle's shop to maximize the tension. He could have a nuclear missile trigger in his hands, and he would be less in the shakes. Maybe he should have picked another spot, like out in the woods. No, that's what serial killers do, not a starcrossed brother hoping to hook up. And God knows what would happen if Multi-Bear spotted them shagging. It'd be Timothy Treadwell times a thousand. If only he followed Stan's ideas back when they were roughing up that one guy's business, then maybe he could get the edge on this. But the clock was ticking, and there was only so much time they had alone together. Dipper needed to continue or this would all just break apart like the rest of his romantic pursuits.
"Yeah," Dipper said. "I'm sure of it. I really… like you, Mabel. And I know this all sounds wrong because we're related, but I just want to put that out there."
Mabel looked down, smiled, and said, "Seems that's not the only thing you're putting out."
Dipper wondered what she was talking about until noticing his erection, tightening his shorts more than any wedgie could. He remembered when Stan or Soos got erections in public, but never asked how they stopped them from getting bigger, let alone how to make them stop. Sweat was draining out of his face. His heart beat like it was about to give out. He palmed his face with those clammy hands of his. Dipper looked down and just wanted the floor to cave in so much.
"Dipper!" Mabel yelled, making him snap back into reality. "It's okay. Just 'cause you're hung doesn't mean you need to hang yourself over it."
She moved her eyes around the shop to reassure herself no one was around and said, "Lock the door and pull down the shades."
"What?"
Mabel winked at him. "Just do it. You'll thank me later."
Dipper did as was told, stiffie still in progress. Thank God this was a slow day for the store, or else none of this could have happened. This is it, he thought. Everything was going all according to plan, and any of those doomsday scenarios were being shoved into the mental closet while he closed up shop. He twiddled with the door lock longer than he should have, thinking he could reinforce the lock with a chair or something. But no matter, if the stars were aligned, they could do this forever without a single soul trying to break in. Maybe Stan or Ford could appear, but they were too busy having their own little adventures. Perhaps Wendy could show up and get jealous at what was going on, but Dipper couldn't give a toss what she could think right now. All that mattered was Mabel, all of Mabel.
After making sure no one could see them, Dipper looked back at Mabel and saw her taking off her sweater. Until now, he never realized how much he wanted that to happen. He occasionally saw Mabel take off her clothes, but not like this. Never like this. Sure, she hadn't grown out yet, but Dipper liked it that way. Taking Mabel later instead of now will lose all of that appeal. As soon as Mabel took off her sweater, Dipper blankly stared at her bra. Not just yet, he thought. He wanted it to make it quick, but not too quick. The boy wanted to savor every moment so he could remember this day well into the dementia years.
He ran to Mabel and smooched all over her face, even using his tongue for some of those moments to make them even more special. He always saw her, smelt her, heard her, but never tasted her. Her flavor was exactly what Dipper expected… store-brand chewing gum. His favorite! He wasn't an idealist who thought every woman tasted of fine liquor or flamebroiled steak. He liked to keep it real, which is what anyone ready to bone their sister had as their mindset.
Mabel grabbed Dipper's back and slowly took his vest and shirt off. She wanted to keep the hat on though, because she liked that hat most of all. Being licked by Dipper was like the temptations Eve felt from the snake, except it wasn't knowledge she was pursuing. It was love.
Love for the United States of America.
Now bare-chested, Dipper let Mabel nibble on his nipples like he was a mom ready to breastfeed. He carried Mabel's head as she suckled, wanting this moment to last forever. It was so good that Dipper didn't notice when Mabel's head grew and her hair shortened. He didn't realize when her limbs grew in size and in hair, while her flat chest became flabbier and fit for an old man than any preteen girl. But most unsettling of all was that her hair no longer had that radiant brown. Now it was rusty, gray and orange. Then it struck him.
"Wait! You're not Mabel!"
"That's right," he said out of his puglike face, having sucked enough of Dipper's manmilk to fully manifest into his final form. "I'm your next President of the United States and I'm here to take control of your bum!"
"Donald Trump! Why?"
Still dressed in Mabel's bra and clothes from the waist down, the future President sneered and let an almost purple gas come out of his mouth. "Because the only thing I hate more than Muslims is whiny brats like you trying to finger their sister when they should be working hard to get an honest buck like I did."
"But how did you even get here?"
"Wire-tapping."
"Oh."
"Yes, oh. And I'm going to dominate your 'O' as revenge for the great pains you've taken to desecrate American love!"
Donald Trump took a wrinkly index finger and snuck it down Dipper's pants. Like an earworm ready to devour some precious brain matter, it went between the boy's sweet cheeks and way down the asshole.
Dipper screamed loud enough for all of Gravity Falls to hear.
"Not my anus!" he screamed.
"Oh, boohoo! Poor little Dipper's bumhole is being prosecuted by the mighty arm of the law. Well shows you what for, you little shit! And thanks to me, all you'll do is shit!"
More of those subhuman Republican fingers slid in Dipper's hole until the entire hand could fit. The muscles around the anus were at their breaking point. If Dipper's anus were a vagina, his hymen surely would have bled out.
"You feel that?" Donald Trump asked. "That's the pain of the modern American man after what Obama did to this sorry state of a country. But all pain goes away, kid! As long as you say you love America. Now do you love America?"
Dipper started to look back to those Taco Bell days with fondness. "Yes…"
"What did you say?"
"Yes! Yes, I love America!"
"How much do you love America?"
"A lot! A whole fucking lot!"
Trump shoved his Oompa-Loompa colored hand further inside Dipper, making his anus throb harder than Trump's crusty heart. "Don't swear until you're twenty, kid! Now what does America mean to you?"
"It means freedom and stuff! B-b-because I get to live in it!"
"And how grateful are you to live in America!"
Dipper was ready to bite his tongue out. "Sooooo grateful! Now please get your hand out of my butt!"
"Okey-dokey."
"Oh thank God."
"That's ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU to you, sisterfucker!"
Trump let his entire arm ooze out of Dipper, the scene equivalent to a newborn giraffe's birth. Even though his sphincter was ruined forever, Dipper was relieved to not be the future President's buttslave anymore. But he still felt a tiny prick deep down.
"Oh yeah," Trump said. "I stuck a tiny American flag there just so you'd remember how much you love America."
Dumbstruck, Dipper looked down his back to see the familiar stars and stripes. He couldn't believe it. His ass had just become American soil.
"Trump 2016!" Donald-senpai yelled to the ceiling, and hopefully to the heavens. "I'll fist as many children as I can just to win the White House!"
"God… bless… America…" Dipper said before passing out.