The world is exploding. All the nuclear reactors are melting down and the volcanoes are blanketing the world in liquid hot magma. The satellites are falling from the skies left and right. A 3 mile wide tornado has already destroyed and picked up the contents of a barbed wire factory, razor blade factory, and a cinnamon toothpick factory. Tsunamis are making landfall and striking the Midwest. An earthquake creates a fiery chasm so huge that it swallows Joliet and Romeoville. Every nuclear bomb detonated without even launching. A Fiat 500 sized piece of hail just smashed into the oval office.
Trump and Barron are making a run for the escape rocket to the bunker on the moon as the ceiling is falling apart above them and the walls around them. Barron smacks right into a closing shuttle door and falls on his ass. Getting back up he looks through the window and sees the two chairs in the rocket. His father is buckling himself in. Already buckled in next to him is an Al Franken size bag of Big Macs. Through the intercom Barron is reminded that he should be lucky to have spent his final hour with his father. His heart is as cold as that bag of Big Macs.
I may have exaggerated a thing or two but I’m just trying to use words to paint a picture.
The world is exploding. All the nuclear reactors are melting down and the volcanoes are blanketing the world in liquid hot magma. The satellites are falling from the skies left and right. A 3 mile wide tornado has already destroyed and picked up the contents of a barbed wire factory, razor blade factory, and a cinnamon toothpick factory. Tsunamis are making landfall and striking the Midwest. An earthquake creates a fiery chasm so huge that it swallows Joliet and Romeoville. Every nuclear bomb detonated without even launching. A Fiat 500 sized piece of hail just smashed into the oval office.
Trump and Barron are making a run for the escape rocket to the bunker on the moon as the ceiling is falling apart above them and the walls around them. Barron smacks right into a closing shuttle door and falls on his ass. Getting back up he looks through the window and sees the two chairs in the rocket. His father is buckling himself in. Already buckled in next to him is an Al Franken size bag of Big Macs. Through the intercom Barron is reminded that he should be lucky to have spent his final hour with his father. His heart is as cold as that bag of Big Macs.
I may have exaggerated a thing or two but I’m just trying to use words to paint a picture.
Here is one in the trump loves his kids group. Oh my bad, its just a Al Franken sized bag. Not Al Franken. Some fates are worse than death.