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Language:
English
Stats:
Published:
2024-07-15
Completed:
2025-03-11
Words:
633
Chapters:
2/2
Comments:
71
Kudos:
146
Bookmarks:
12
Hits:
635

Ocean Rosenberg shoots Donald Trump

Summary:

Yeah so basically i thought this was funny but the choir goes to a trump rally and Ocean shoots him in the ear

Notes:

God, forgive me for writing this

Chapter 1

Chapter Text

"Ocean, are you sure you wanna do this...?" Constance mumbled from behind Ocean, packed together with the rest of the choir in their tiny hiding spot, waiting for the perfect moment.

"Extremely sure. If anyone's gonna make gay marriage illegal its gonna be ME."

"What!? You told me going here so we could help Ricky be nonbinary!?" Mischa shouted, forcing Noel to put his hand over Mischa's mouth, as people were starting to look over at their hiding place.

"Ocean, just shoot already. Literally, what on earth could you be waiting for? Also, what do you mean 'its gonna be you' to make gay marriage ILLEGAL!?" Noel shouted, using his other hand to cover up his own mouth.

"Ugh, cant i ever make a joke around here? As i am the most accademically successful person here, and also a woman, i detest what Trump is doing to womens rights at home and in the workplace. Also im a communist."

Ocean aimed the gun at Trump, shivering and shaking of anxiety as her finger pulled the trigger. Life suddenly seemed to go in slowmotion, as the choir quietly looked at the bullet racing towards Donald Trump, hitting him in the ear. Mischa removed Noel's hand from his mouth.

"What in the fuck, Ocean!? You missed!!!"

Chaos spread across the rally, as people started screaming for help left and right. Trump theatrically threw himself onto the groubd before being lifted up again, honding his fist in the air.

"Oh my god, hes REALLY making a show of it." Noel said, making Constance giggle before ashamingly putting her hand on her mouth.

Ocean broke down in tears. "im so sorry, i didn't mean to miss him... I just- really dont want the gays to get married. I couldn't do it."

"OCEAN, YOU'RE LITERALLY A LESBIAN, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?!?“

Chapter 2: The long awaited sequel: Mischa shoots Elon Musk

Summary:

Was talking to my therapist recently and admitted that i, without thinking about it, have daily fantasies about getting powers of teleportation. When she asked why, i said “so i can teleport to where Elon Musk is and shoot him directly in the face on live television”
She just laughed, so im apperantly not a psychopath, just really hate that guy, so im gonna make him get shot in my literature!

Chapter Text

“I still don’t get why you guys couldn’t give me another shot at this… pun not intended.” Ocean mumbled, hidden behind Mischa with all the others.

“Shut up, little ginger asshole. I have my eyes on the target.” Mischa said, trying to keep his anger as quiet as possible. “I agree with Mischa,” Noel stated confidently. “He’s the best at the shooting range at the fall fair, and it was quite the hassle escaping last time, when you MISSED.”
“No need to be rude…” Constance mumbled under her breath. “Yeah twink, no need to be RUDE.” Ocean combatted.
“God i wish tiktok never taught you what that meant…” Noel grumbled.

“Oh my god guys, if we get caught do you think we’ll get to meet Luigi?”

BANG.

A shot flew through the air, and everyone in the stadium flinched or ducked down for safety as they heard the bullet flying through the air.
“Come on, come onnnn…” Mischa whispered, as it seemed the whole world started going on slowmotion. Until they heard the scream.

“AAAAAARRRGHHGHGHGG OOUCHIEEEEE!!!!” Elon yelled from the stage as he dropped to the ground.

“Yes!” Ricky exclaimed. “Right in the balls!”
“Mischa!!!!” Ocean yelled as Constance giggled behind her.
“Come onnn… i could not resist! Plus, he deserves!” Mischa said, as they all watched the owner of Twitter spass around on the stage, trying to hold onto his… parts…

The interviewer leaned in, holding up the mic and asking him for his last words.
“Is there anything to the lord you’d like to say..?”

Elon Musk nodded. “You- shooter, j-just…” he coughs up a bloodclot, clearly at the end. “You just lost… the internet.” He forces out, and with that, he’s dead.

“Okay. Shit shit shit, let’s get out of here!” Ricky exclaims, as they all follow him out of their hiding spot and into their getaway car, where jane is sitting with sunglasses on, ready to drive them home to saskatchewan.