Donald Trump rolled out of his bed one wonderful morning and he knew that it would be a great day. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the Mexicans were being particulary quiet and passive as he deported them across the border and forced them into subordination. Donald hummed to himself the conservative Star Spangled Banner (which was to the tune of funeral music) as he got dressed for the day and put on his favorite toupee. Its paint was starting to rub off, so he brushed it up with his wife's hair dye. He was currently spending time in his giant mansion in New York, and he would later go downtown to make a big speech, and if he did a good and influential manipulative job, he'd treat himself to a trip to the pet shop afterwards to pet the puppies. Except the chihuahuas. He's deport them.

Returning to his giant mansion, he called for his maid as he walked down the gold crusted stairs. Except it was his servant who waited by the stairs for him each morning. He was supposed to call for his messenger, who would call for his second servant (asian, very cute and small), who would call for his wife, who would call for his rabid fanboy, who would call for his chef, who would make him breakfast.

"SERVANT No. SEVENTY-THREE!" he called. Servant No. 73 looked at him confusedly.

There was this strange slug with a face staring at him with demand in his eyes. He seemed to feel free to order him around whenever, and he treated him with no respect. Servant No. 73 looked around in confusion. Where was he even? He assumed it was the slug's house, but he didn't know why he got there. He didn't even remember what state he was in, or what country for that matter.

"Sir?" he asked after awhile. "Where are we? And…who are you?" his childish voice trembling. Because he was a child.

"What do you mean? We're in my mansion in New York! And I'm going to be the president of the United States, the next roman empire, you are my slave and you will treat me as your master! Why are you even asking this stuff? Don't you remember me?"

Servant No. 73 just looked at him blankly. If this was an anime, Donald Trump would have a big sweatdrop running down his face right now.

"You don't remember me! What is this madness? Did…did the democrats do something to you?"

"No sir! They did nothing! I will leave now!" Donald Trump reached out for his most faithful servant as he started running away, but the boy was too fast and bolted out of the door. Or the closest door he could find, which wasn't actually the way out. He'd be back.

Donald Trumps sighed and decided not to pursue him. But he was rather worried about himself for the first time in five years. If his best servant didn't remember him, how could anyone else? He tried to assure himself, but his self doubts were driving his bald head crazy. He then called for his unicorn to take him outside, but the unicorn didn't answer.

"IT IS YOUR MASTER! COME AND TAKE ME OUTSIDE, SPARKLES!"

Sparkles didn't come. Donald Trump sighed and decided to go outside himself. With his own two feet. It almost killed him.

He then jumped into his private limousine, and told the driver who lived inside the car to take him downtown. The driver listened to him and did as he asked, but he didn't seem to recognize him. He just drove him because the strange man still seemed to be willing to pay him. But he didn't when they arrived. Donald Trump just hopped out of the vehicle and ignored the driver as he yelled back at him for his payment. Silly man. The privilege of driving Donald Trump everywhere should be payment enough. Why didn't he realize that? He knew that was the policy they operated by…unless he forgot!

Donald Trump ran down the streets, making a point to "accidentally" bump into people and knock them over. They'd either react positively that Trump-sama recognized them, or act terrified and shrink away. Or curse him out. But he'd just pepper spray them if they did that.

But no! Some acted mildly angry, but others just apologized for a fleeting moment before they went on their way. No sign of recognition whatsoever. But everyone was supposed to recognize him. What was going on?