To read the beginning, click on the the cute picture of Iverson, the fairy, just to the right of this post. "Iverson's Vision Quest - the story so far.)
Now fairies, even good fairies, are known for their love of mischief, and it had been a long time since Iverson had had a good chuckle. "Atten-hut" he commanded the hair, and all the strands on Donald Trump's head stood straight up at attention. He squeaked another command, and the hair styled itself into a Mohawk, then into spikes, then into a comb-over.
Trump suddenly became aware of a strange tingling sensation occurring on his head. His room was decorated with floor to ceiling mirrors, and, checking his reflection in them, he was surprised to see his hair waltzing, bee-bopping and hula-ing across his head and finally settling into the comb-over.
Meanwhile, crouched behind the comb-over, Iverson took the top off of the crazy glue tube, plopped a big glob of glue onto the Donald's pate, and quickly dropped the microdot on top of it. But the glue was runny and dribbled out of tube and all over DT's head. Iverson had to jump onto Trump's ear to avoid getting stuck. And that's when the Donald spotted him. He swatted at Iverson ineffectively, first with his left hand, and then his right, and of course both hands got stuck to his hair. He grunted, swore, and with a mighty lunge, pulled both hands free, removing two huge hunks of that lush hair he'd been so proud of. Horrified, Trump looked into the mirror to see pink skin and red welts where abundant waves and curls, so carefully styled, had once lain. He cried as if his heart would break "Mommy, why me?"
This is a work of fiction, obviously.
Now fairies, even good fairies, are known for their love of mischief, and it had been a long time since Iverson had had a good chuckle. "Atten-hut" he commanded the hair, and all the strands on Donald Trump's head stood straight up at attention. He squeaked another command, and the hair styled itself into a Mohawk, then into spikes, then into a comb-over.
Trump suddenly became aware of a strange tingling sensation occurring on his head. His room was decorated with floor to ceiling mirrors, and, checking his reflection in them, he was surprised to see his hair waltzing, bee-bopping and hula-ing across his head and finally settling into the comb-over.
Meanwhile, crouched behind the comb-over, Iverson took the top off of the crazy glue tube, plopped a big glob of glue onto the Donald's pate, and quickly dropped the microdot on top of it. But the glue was runny and dribbled out of tube and all over DT's head. Iverson had to jump onto Trump's ear to avoid getting stuck. And that's when the Donald spotted him. He swatted at Iverson ineffectively, first with his left hand, and then his right, and of course both hands got stuck to his hair. He grunted, swore, and with a mighty lunge, pulled both hands free, removing two huge hunks of that lush hair he'd been so proud of. Horrified, Trump looked into the mirror to see pink skin and red welts where abundant waves and curls, so carefully styled, had once lain. He cried as if his heart would break "Mommy, why me?"
This is a work of fiction, obviously.
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