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Chapter Text

Beetledump [original…?]

                Donald John Trump had a house not a home.

                If you were to ask him why he’d tell you simply; a home requires the presence of at least sixteen people acting as tenants. A house only requires twelve. Were there questions to be asked of his judgement? Perhaps. Trump had never been outstanding in the counting field considering that less than twelve people lived in his ‘house’. Another possible detail up for debate being that Trump isn’t quite sure whether he rents or not, so tenants may not be the correct term. These thoughts have likely never crossed through his head though.

                Regardless of all this, or the everlasting mystery of where in the world Trump could’ve possibly gotten any of these definitions from, Donald J. Trump still had a house. For his house lacked any form of true love. But despite Trump not knowing it yet, he was in fact looking for true love wherever he was to go. Certainly, Trump was not an ordinary fella. Trump was the president of The United States of America. The entirety of the States living within his control, grasped by his scaly little dinosaur hands. It was surprisingly easy to turn the U.S. into a dictator run country.

                The dictator t-rex walked his outstandingly short legs over to the local library. He planned to show off in his next political speech that he could read big-boy chapter books, and of course he was needing a book to use as an example of those skills of his. However, he was having some difficulties finding a book that wasn’t impossibly hard to read. He wasn’t even quite sure why they’d ever carry books such as ‘Goodnight Moon’, clearly there was no one out there in possession of enough reading prowess to even think of reading that book. Alas, Trump would have to find a different section.

                After enough searching, Trump was finally able to find the perfect book. It had every necessary letter to show off his immense comprehension of the English alphabet. It even included some illustrations, like an apple on the cardboard page featuring the letter a. Those would certainly come in handy if he were to get stumped.

Donald unhesitantly reached for the book. But unfortunately, he realized his arms were too short and he was incapable of reaching really. So, the orange scaled man walked over extremely close to the shelve grabbed the book with the aid of a stool for height. Trump brushed fingers with a 1/2” tall stunningly handsome little green man covered in dirt. Trump felt dominated by the immense size of the taller green man’s big alpha hands.

After remaining stagnant in that position for a considerable amount of time, Trump inevitably came semi-near the realization that the green dirty man must’ve also been reaching for that same book. This realization was, of course, held back by the fact that Trump couldn’t seem to take his orbs off from the other tiny man’s orbs. Trump was released from his daze as the dirt man opened his mouth to speak.

                “You can have the book, but you’ll have to give me it next once you’re done with it… Hot dino man~”

                Trump felt his dino face heat up at the sound of the dirt man’s deep voice. “O-okay I agree with- this plan you have is, with the books, and by the way I’m very good at reading, it’s a great, great quality for the president. I’m the president. But I really love books, books are beautiful. As president I’ve done more for books than you could ever imagine, like for example, one thing- and by the way I’m also good at things that aren’t books, my talent is vast. I’m very, very good, very, very good at books. Books, I’m the best at books, big league, believe me,” the president spoke.

                “Okay… I’ll just stop by your home once I think you’re done with it,” verbally formed the green guy.

                “It’s house, not a home,” corrected Trump.

                “Alright,” agreed the tiny little half inch tall person as he walked away. Trump did not notice him leaving, and in his absence proceeded to explain his definitions of a house and a home.

                As Trump laid in his bed that night, he felt a strange warmth in his chest that wasn’t there in prior nights. He felt confused at this. Donald took out his alphabet book after deciding that he should practice some, for despite his skills, the book still was a very hard one. The first page took him a while, but eventually through the help of the red fruit featured on the page he deemed what the first letter must be.

                “O,” read the genius president. Pleased with himself, the t-rex decided that he had enough practice for the night. He then went to bed. Somehow, that night his house felt slightly more like a home, despite that conflicting with Trump’s definitions.

                Trump began to have a dream sequence.

                “Hello, I am Yaoi Jesus,” said Yaoi Jesus. Yaoi Jesus was the man in Trump’s dream, but he was not the man of Trump’s dreams. (A/N: the man of Trump’s dreams is Beetlejuice btw :3) Yaoi Jesus continued to speak, “you are gay. I now must harass you in your dreams.” Yaoi Jesus is a man with long flowing silver hair and bright red eyes, he possibly is the embodiment of yaoi. He most likely isn’t.

                Trump tried to ask questions, like ‘what’s a yaoi??’ for example, but it seemed he was not able to speak, neither did he have any tangible form. Yaoi Jesus was just a voice in a black void, so Trump wasn’t sure how he knew what he looked like, it was probably something to do with his yaoi presence or something. Did Yaoi Jesus have yaoi powers?

                “You’re gay now, so you get dreams from me. I can’t read your mind or anything right now, I just assume you’d be a bit confused about that. So gay people all get dreams from me, Yaoi Jesus, that makes sense right? It’s just sort of a whole thing… Well, it’s really not, I guess that’s just the best way to describe it though,” explained Yaoi Jesus.

                Trump’s dream sequence proceeded to end.

                Donald trump woke up. He felt very, very confident in his reading abilities. His speech wasn’t planned to be taking place until next week, but his confidence said otherwise. He knew what the best most responsible course of action would be. Donald pressed the ‘I wanna make a brash impulsive decision’ button, not once has he ever pressed this button for any form of stupid reason.

                “Ringring ringringring,” said the speaker of the button. It had started up a call with someone who could deal with his request.

                “Hello, I am Ōkina Atama,” said Ōkina Atama. This was a handy introduction; Trump had no idea who the button called. Knowing that wasn’t his job.

                “I am actually very, very good at reading, big league. I’m going to give my speech today instead of next week,” declared the president.

                Ōkina sighed, “Okay, well I’ll go deal with all that… You’ll be having the speech around 5pm or something.” The line was silent for a while before a small mutter could be heard, “Why do I have to deal with this? I don’t even work for you? I’m still a fellow political figure despite the fact that I’m not president… If you heard any of that, well uh, you didn’t.”

                “What’d you say? How do I turn this thing off?” asked Trump.

                “Beepbeep beepbeepbeep,” announced the button speaker. It was signifying that Ōkina had hung up on Trump.

                Trump chose to occupy his time thinking about the green dirty tiny man, as opposed to practicing his reading skills. He was, of course, entirely capable and sure of his skills. Wowwwww, that dirt man sure was dreamy! Oh, wwhhaat, where exactly did the time go??

                It was now 5pm.

                “Ringring ringringring,” announced the button speaker. Trump stared at it. “… Just press the button,” requested the button. Trump pressed the button.

                “Go into the car outside,” requested Ōkina the U.S. political figure. Trump went ……..

                (A/N: oh, btw it wasn’t supposed to abruptly end in the middle of a sentence!!!!1!!1!!!!!! or actually it wasn’t supposed to end like right here at all. I just forgot I was writing X3 I’ll write chapter two sometime? It prolly won’t be like super long waiting time??)

Chapter Text

Trump wakes up in a cold sweat, “What’s a ship name? And who are you Yaoi Jesus ?! ” Yaoi Jesus had just gotten done explaining gay fanfiction to Donald Trump in his sleep. Although Trump didn’t quite seem to understand it all, maybe Yaoi Jesus needs to explain it some more later. Confusingly enough, both Trump and Yaoi Jesus had physical forms in the dream void this time, but Trump still remained unable to speak. Trump was a frightened and confused mess; gay fanfiction could be terrifying. The president was so scared he didn’t even stop to ponder how he was sweating. That was weird for him to sweat, considering the fact that he’s a reptilian dinosaur… hm.. Would he question that even if he wasn’t scared? Probably not.. Trump was still scared. Where was he? In his bed, he went to bed after his speech. Yeah, that’s correct.

Trump went off to the bathroom to get ready for the day. He sprayed another layer of spray tan on himself, man , he looked great . There was a secret to how he managed to get that pure orange impressive hue. In all truth, he had just gotten the cans confused and he’s been using spray paint instead for some time now. It was so secret that not even Trump himself knew. Maybe someday he’d check the cans and realize? As he was busy trying to wash his hands, which took a while due to the length of his arms, Donald started to think. Donald thought, Donald thought of his life. Life was easy being born rich, back before Obama went to StarClan. Everyone thought it was really cool that he managed to do that without even dying. But while Obama was off giving advice and sharing his wisdom via StarClan communication systems, Trump took his place. Then, life was still easy, as it turned out, he could just make others do his presidential work for him. Plus, he can just take credit for random things that others have done. For example, that one time he took credit for fixing the McDonald’s ice cream machines. For some reason he felt as though he had acquired a wife and kids at some point. It was almost as if he could hear them right now, just off in the other room, but he didn't remember that ever happening. His memory was very, very good, big league. So he definitely didn’t have a family that he just forgot. Yeah, he felt satisfied with his life decisions. Why was it so hard to wash your tiny t-rex arms? The orange hued political figure of the 21st century reflected on how the prior day had gone. Donald’s speech went well. In fact, he was entirely sure that he correctly identified every letter of the English alphabet. But did he actually?

Well anyways, Trump finished washing his hands. His thoughts started to shift to the green person, which seemed to be happening an increasing amount since two days prior . The green man should be arriving soon! He did say that he’d show up to take the book once Trump was done with it, didn’t he? He wondered what he’s been up to… Probably some very attractive dirt man thing, whatever they do…

Beetlejuice had a plan. He was going to seduce Donald John Trump, the dinosaur president of the United States. That way he could manipulate Trump into marrying him. Beetlejuice would finally properly be free to fully roam the mortal realm. Beetlejuice felt nothing for Donald. In all reality, Beetlejuice was not actually that big of a fan of cardboard books featuring the letters of the alphabet, he had just followed Trump there into that section so he could form an artificial meetcute. He was quite shocked when Trump entered the library, but when he saw the section he chose, he somehow wasn't that surprised. But, in order to make his plan work, he had to romance that stupid brainless lizard. Beetlejuice really would settle for anyone at this point, and Trump was filthy rich right? So he was on his way to Trump’s home- no, house?

Beetlejuice loudly burst into Trump’s house. It really was massive, it sure would be nice if this was his house too. The greenette called out into the vast space of Trump’s not-home, “Hey, I’m here for the book! President of the United States of America~ ”

 He wondered what Trump’s family would think of the loud flirting directed at the dinosaur, sure they didn’t mind him breaking in suddenly, that was actually considered normal, but his wife may mind him flirting with her husband. Beetlejuice decided that since he had never had shame, he has no reason to start having shame now.

Beetlejuice watched as the dino man rushed out into the living room, or at least the one that Beetlejuice was in, considering this house was massive. Trump’s golden blonde ahoge blew around as he ran, the rest of his lump hair remaining stagnant. Trump’s eyes were glistening, sparkly with pure joy. In the president’s arms lay a small cardboard book. The small cardboard book.

“I’m here for the book, Trump,” whispered Beetlejuice affectionately. Trump slowly handed the book back to Beetlejuice. He relished in the time they now shared together, although it seemed that it would be short. Beetlejuice took the book from him.

“It’s really, really advanced- The book, that is, big league. I… wouldn’t be surprised by you- I mean you’re just not on my level, no one can do anything about the fact that I'm just better than everyone,” flirted (?) Trump. Beetlejuice was astounded by how bad Trump was at flirting? Did Trump seriously just insult his intelligence? Just how dumb could he be?!

Just as Beetlejuce began to rethink if he really could handle seducing Trump, Trump began to speak again. “What I mean to say is, well,” Trump blushed, “… Do you read a lot of books?” Beetlejuice was caught off guard. Something about that… something about Trump… Beetlejuice briefly felt something. That something was probably just his immense disregard that he felt towards Trump.

“Y-yes, I do read a lot of books,” Beetlejuice replied. That was a complete lie. The duo gazed into each other’s eyes for a brief moment.

“T-thank you… Attractive Green Dirt Flavored Man,” Trump spoke shyly. Beetlejuice was confused at first. Beetlejuice found himself murmuring, “Attractive… Green Dirt… Flavored Man?” A beat passed. “Oh, that’s me,” realized Beetlejuice.

“You know, I do have a name,” said Beetlejuice, “We could… perhaps play a game of charades for you to guess?” The game of charades went on for a very long time. Beetlejuice was sick and tired of being tiny, he had to get Trump to guess his name. But Trump was just too stupid. Beetlejuice wasn’t able to say his name.

“Rat…? Rat Master,” guessed Trump.

“Where did you even get that from?” asked Beetlejuice. Plenty of other guesses were thrown around, such as ‘Rolex Watch’, ‘SoapOpera46’, ‘Reicheru Ketsuekineko-Oni’, and ‘The Man Of My Dreams’, none of which were correct, except for possibly the last one?

Even though he couldn't, Trump was so dumb that Beetlejuice just had to tell him his name, “Beetlejuice, it’s Beetlejuice.” Trump looked confused.

“My name, Beetlejuice, just say it three times,” Beetlejuice requested. It was a simple request, but this was Donald Trump. Who knew if he’d manage to figure it out.

“Beetlejuice… Beetlejuice… Beetlejuice,” Trump figured it out! That’s impressive, well, at least it is for Trump. Beetlejuice grew to his normal height. Trump stared, his mouth agape at the now much taller green man.

Beetlejuice began to walk away. “Goodbye,” he said. His back was fully turned to the blonde standing behind him. He did not wait for the other to say his farewell.

“Wait Beetlejuice!” blurted out Trump. Beetlejuice turned to look at him, both of their eyes wide. “Will… Will I ever see you again Beetlejuice?” asked Trump.

Beetlejuice stilled. A beat passed. “Let’s go on a date,” Beetlejuice said softly, “Like sometime next week.”

Chapter Text

(a/n: Beetledump logo made by Mc, they made it in class. Thank you Mc! You’re up in my top 2 favorite editors of mine!! X3)

Donald’s dreams have been strange as of late, and they just keep getting stranger. In every one of them Yaoi Jesus made an appearance. Well, except for this one. You see, Trump had been put on hold. I guess Yaoi Jesus had some other gay people to visit in his dreams. So there Trump was, standing around in the void while listening to some god awful waiting music. It seemed that Trump could now speak in these dreams, but what use was it when he was being placed on hold? He didn’t want these dreams, but Yaoi Jesus putting the President on hold? Did Yaoi Jesus think he was the President here? Would these terrible dreams ever stop? Why was he still even in the void if Yaoi Jesus wasn’t going to show up? Why couldn’t he just have a normal dream instead?!

Trump woke up. Yaoi Jesus left Donald Trump on hold for the entire dream. Trump couldn’t believe that just happened. This was an absolute mockery of his presidential status. You know what, he’s gonna President really hard now. He would go to the President work. Most certainly not because Yaoi Jesus managed to get under his skin at all or whatever. He was very, very well composed.

Trump entered the President work. As he entered he saw a familiar face. It was Joe Biden.

“H-hi Trump senpai!” Biden said shyly. This was how Joe Biden acted every time he saw Trump. Trump shared none of the feelings that Biden felt for him, Beetlejuice was his one and only. Trump did not respond, he instead just walked onwards. He went into the room of gay-hating republican politicians. Inside were people he knew for the most part. There was Ōkina Atama, Elon Musk, and some guy with long purple hair. Trump headed to Ōkina to get an update on the information he needed.

“I don’t know the purple one, what is the deal with the purple one?” Trump. Ōkina looked a bit confused. But then Ōkina remembered that this was Trump they were talking to.

“... That’s Aster Doorbell, they’ve been in the whole republican gay-hating politician business for almost two years now,” Ōkina explained, “Why am I not surprised you don’t know them…” Trump didn’t hear the last part somehow. Trump didn’t have any other questions, so he proceeded to complain.

“I got put on hold by this guy, Yaoi Jesus… We’re like best friends by the way- this guy- Yaoi Jesus- Well I’m sure he misses me very, very much- I definitely don’t miss him right now,” complained Trump, “Yeah, Yaoi Jesus and I are best friends.”

Ōkina grimaced, “Are you sure they… agree on that?”

Trump nodded, “Oh, definitely.” Trump went on further, “We go way back, very, very back, like a couple days back. I also go very, very far back, a couple days back with this dashing man named Beetlejuice, he’s so dreamy and also green-” Trump was cut off.

“Yes, green dirt men, I’ve heard all about green dirt men,” interrupted Ōkina Atama. I guess this isn’t their first run in with a guy who’s madly in love with a green dirt man. It seemed that they weren’t all that up for hearing about Trump’s love life. “Oh look, it seems to be about time for the politics to start,” redirected Ōkina.

“Guys, it’s politics time,” announced Ōkina. The politics would now commence.

“We hate gay people right? Yeah?” Aster queried.

“Yeah,” said Trump.

“Yeah,” said Ōkina.

“Yeah,” said Elon Musk.

Aster took out a stack of papers from his bag and began to spread them out on the desk which has been here the whole time. “So I’ve actually been devising this really cool plan about that-” Aster was interrupted.

Elon Musk cleared his throat, “Cough cough hack hack hack.” His throat was very gross. “Hear me out,” he said, “AI is like, the future. So I’m gonna do more of that.” Elon Musk was very much in love with artificial intelligence, perhaps because he lacked his own intelligence.

“Okay,” agreed Trump. Elon Musk doing more AI wouldn’t really have any negative repercussions for Trump.

“Alright so my plan-” Aster tried to speak.

“Sooo, how about we just like, let AI make the next like 15 or so laws?” suggested Elon Musk. By now Elon was getting a pretty nasty glare from Aster. Elon looked entirely unfazed, as it seemed their feud was only one sided.

“I think your idea sucks,” Aster shared. This was in fact, an opinion of theirs.

At this point Donald Trump was fully zoned out while thinking of Beetlejuice. Kyaaa, he’d be able to go on a date with Beetlejuice ‘like sometime next week’!! That’s like, sometime next week! This was wonderful X3 !1! He had absolutely no clue what was going on in the political discussion. Did it even matter when he had Beetlejuice to think about?

“What do you think, Trump?” asked Ōkina. What does Trump think about what? What’s even going on right now? President work is so hard, it takes someone really skilled, like Donald Trump, to accomplish that.

“Uh, yeah, what he said,” responded Trump. Yeah, he was certain nobody could even tell that he zoned out with a great response such as that. It completely sounded like he definitely had a clue what was going on.

“Which one?” inquired Ōkina.

“Huh, what do you mean which one? Don’t question me, I know what I’m doing,” Trump said defensively.

“I was just asking which one you’re agreeing with? Aster Doorbell or Elon Musk?” Ōkina sighed. Oh, uh, what do people do when they don’t know how to pick an option? They uh, well, they flip a coin.

“Ōkina, flip a coin,” requested Trump. With the confidence he exuded there was no way Ōkina could tell that he remained clueless. Ōkina may or may not have noticed that Trump had absolutely no clue what was going on. As requested of him, Ōkina proceeded to flip the coin into the air, letting it land on the desk. The coin rolled around in circles for a few laps before finally settling on one side. It was heads.

“Alright, what does that mean,” Trump asked Ōkina. Ōkina looked like he had begun to accept that he’ll die full of regrets.

“So you didn’t decide on the sides before making me flip the coin?” Ōkina sighed yet again. They were getting used to Trump, but that doesn’t help much when it’s still Trump that you are dealing with.

“Yeah, that means you agree with me,” Elon Musk said quickly. Aster Doorbell’s eyes widened as their hair jolted up in anger and shock.

“Okay then,” agreed Trump. Aster Doorbell was filled with fury.

“No- That’s not what it means at all!? Huh- Ōkina, back me up on this!” Aster screeched. Aster looked over to Ōkina with hope in his eyes. He trusted Ōkina. This was no no avail, seeing that Ōkina was simply satisfied with any form of resolution to this whole interaction. Ōkina shook his head.

Ōkina justified their lack of an objection, “Oh, you know I would agree with you under any normal circumstances. But, as you can see here, the President of the United States of America just agreed with Elon Musk. Seeing as the U.S. is a dictatorship, I truly cannot do anything about his decision.” It seemed that Ōkina was just being lazy though.

Aster looked surprisingly hurt at this, as if for some reason this managed to bother him more than Elon’s irritating actions from just a moment prior. “Just you wait… I’ll be Mr. President Sir someday,” Aster told Ōkina assertively. Aster then gathered his papers that he had left on the desk. After he did so, he placed them back in his bag.

“Did you just threaten my dictatorship?” questioned Trump. Ōkina tensed. Aster didn’t even consider that he may not want to say such things in front of the current President. Aster really was too brash.

“No, haha, they were talking about becoming Mr. President Sir, it’s a whole different thing from the President. I can see where you could get confused though,” placated Ōkina.

“I do not get confused! I am the president, I knew that,” Trump declared. Ōkina seemed pleased by Trump’s enormous ego coming to save the day. Aster gave Elon Musk one final glare before stomping out towards the exit of the room.

“I suppose this puts an end to our politics session,” Aster noted before fully leaving.

“Yes, I suppose it does,” Ōkina agreed, even though the person they were agreeing with had already left the room.

Trump zoned out again as he thought of Beetlejuice once more. By the time he zoned back in, the room was empty and everyone else had already left. Trump went on his way back home. Once he was home he would go to bed, maybe once he slept again his best friend Yaoi Jesus would come back. After all, Yaoi Jesus was definitely the one who missed him. Certainly.

Chapter Text

(a/n: my version of Trump from Mc’s Beetledump logo!! :3 )

Once again, Trump awoke from a dream where Yaoi Jesus had explained gay fanfiction to him. Trump wasn’t sure if he understood it more or less than before. Trump yawned, his big T-rex jaw hung wide open for around 2 seconds. He used his claws and combed his ahoge into the body of his kidney shaped hair lump and his liver shaped hair lump. The ahoge snapped back up into its heart shape, standing straight up from his head.

“I… The time has at last come, wow . ‘Like sometime next week’,” Trump said to himself, “I better get ready for the date.” Trump went through his morning routine. He freshened up his tan, spent a long time trying to wash his hands, et cetera. A floaty feeling spread throughout his body, radiating from his chest, radiating from his heart. His heart beat quick, it sounded like when an obnoxious driver tries to show off by having their car make that dying noise. That was a healthy sound for a heart to make, it just meant that it was still working. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, what do gay people do? Perhaps he’d follow some of what Yaoi Jesus had explained to him.

Trump stepped out of his house and watched as The Sun shined brightly. He could see Balloon 2 as it flew away into The Sun. I miss you Balloon 2.

Beetlejuice. He was a man, and that man was getting ready for his date. Part of him was certain that he’d regret this. Another part of him was sure that Beetlejuice wasn’t a man who regrets. This was for Trump's hand in marriage, for the money, for the freedom, for the escape from the shackles of death that bound him. Escape to the mortal world, the freedom, it was worth it. He didn’t know what wouldn’t be worth doing for that freedom. So he pulled himself up from his bootstraps and somehow managed to convince his doubtful mind that the date would go well. It would be nice, yeah. Where’s the fun in seducing someone if you don’t hate every second you spend with them because they’re an idiot? Beetlejuice was trying to fool someone, it was himself.

Beetlejuice went over to the date location; where it was is mostly irrelevant, most likely some restaurant of sorts. What is relevant is what Beetlejuice saw when he got there. Trump’s getup consisted of a navy blue sailor schoolgirl uniform, short pleated skirt, triangle collar and all, plus a pair of heavily ripped black tights. The tights were probably like that due to them catching on his scales. Beetlejuice was stunned, not in the good way. More in the other stunned way. ‘What in the world is Trump wearing?!’ Beetlejuice thought in horror. Beetlejuice was now very scared for what was to come. Surely their date will just go downhill from here.

Their date had been going on for a while now, and it had been going so well. Trump couldn’t lift his eyes away from Beetlejuice’s beautiful perfect face for even a split second. It looked very good as a face. Trump just knew that the date was very, very good. Even though they had just sat in silence, that was definitely not awkward silence, together, the both of them were so in love that it didn't even matter. Beetlejuice was probably just so silent because he was so painfully in love with the incredibly handsome Donald J. Trump that he couldn’t even speak. Trump was certain that Beetlejuice must be feeling the exact same way as him right now.

Beetlejuice was dying inside, he had so many regrets. How did he get here? Where did he go wrong? ‘Might as well just double down? That's how it works right?’ thought Beetlejuice.

Beetlejuice aimed to flatter Trump. “Oh you’re sooo smart~ I can totally see why you’re such a big strong President man,” he said. This was abrupt due to the fact that until now, they had just been sitting in silence. Trump didn’t really say anything smart, or anything at all, for Beetlejuice to pretend impressed him. The obvious falsity to the insincere compliment was not caught onto by Trump.

Trump, dead serious, responded, “Yeah, it’s because I’m a brunette.” Beetlejuice was confused for a second before he figured it out. 

“Oh, are you a bleach blonde?” asked Beetlejuice. Now Trump was confused.

“Smartness… It’s what brunettes are known for?” he explained, deadpan, “I guess not everyone else is as smart as me and smart enough to know that. You know brunettes? The people with golden yellow hair?” It was somehow sort of impressive, the way that Trump still managed to astound Beetlejuice. Trump was so dumb, Beetlejuice should be used to it now, but somehow he still isn’t.

“Uh okay then, thanks for telling me that. That was really smart of you?” Beetlejuice thanked Trump for his sharing of knowledge. For the rest of the date, the two of them remained pretty quiet. Trump didn’t seem to mind, or at least he didn’t say anything. Beetlejuice didn’t say anything either, he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Their mutual silence was almost… calming? Almost. It definitely wasn’t, perhaps it was just that everything else was so far from calming that this seemed so in comparison. Beetlejuice was mildly shocked by how alright the date went so far. The whole thing was awkward and strange, he didn’t like one second of it. However, it… wasn’t that bad? In theory it went absolutely awful, Beetlejuice should be livid right now with just how stupid Trump was. But, he wasn’t, Beetlejuice, for some reason, was not mad at all. Although the silence was… nice, there was still one thing that Beetlejuice had left to figure out.

“So… I- well I uh– like your outfit?” Beetlejuice complimented. He did not like the outfit. Please do not misunderstand this man. He really just had to know what was up with the outfit. This was the most subtle way that he could think of asking.

“I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I–I-I-I–I-I-I-I–I–I-I–I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I-I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think this is what Yaoi Jesus was saying gay people did and wore and stuff?” Trump said shyly as his face filled with a blushed slightly-pinker-orange. Beetlejuice was relieved when Trump finally managed to stop saying ‘I’; Beetlejuice was starting to get a headache.

“Ah, okay,” replied Beetlejuice. ‘Who’s Yaoi Jesus?’ he wondered. He wasn’t going to question it though, that would probably take too long. Most likely Trump would give him a long spiel about how great Trump is and somehow manage to entirely steer away from the initial question, never answering it. The date came to a close soon after. Beetlejuice did not wish for it to go on longer, but time did seem to fly by pretty quickly for some reason.

Beetlejuice went home. Some would debate that it was a home, and that’s not even considering Trump’s definition of the word. But, Beetlejuice found it yesterday and it’s his home. You know what? Maybe he could do this, maybe he could seduce Donald Trump. Beetlejuice breathed heavily, like when you need to breathe. Dead people also might need oxygen. He thought of Trump’s scales. He didn’t have a favorite color; maybe it could be orange. Unrelated to the dinosaur of course. He thought of his hair, his speech patterns, his singular spot of previously mentioned hair that simply refused to sit down. The heart could be an omen to successful love, Trump loving Beetlejuice that is. Deep inside, Beetlejuice wished to find one who he loved, but that was secondary in priority, freedom in the mortal world is what mattered most. If he had to marry a dinosaur who was orange and also blonde, then so be it.

Trump laid in his bed. His thoughts raced in comparison to his usual minimal amount. His sparkly shoujo anime eyes softly closed as he drifted off to a peaceful sleep. He was going to tell Yaoi Jesus all about how the date went. Maybe he’d even kick his feet back and forth while twirling his ahoge between his claws. Could Trump reach his ahoge?

Beetlejuice went to sleep in his dumpster. It was a good dumpster. Sometimes it got a little chilly. Nonetheless, good dumpster.

That night, Beetlejuice got a dream from Yaoi Jesus.

Chapter Text

Teenage Dirtbag played faintly in the distance. “What… god?” asked Donald Trump. This was the fault of Yaoi Jesus. At this point it was fairly predictable that he’d be the one to blame. Again, Trump was all alone in the void, only Teenage Dirtbag there to keep him company. He didn’t think he had been put on hold, since Yaoi Jesus had not said anything indicating that to be the case. Nevertheless, Yaoi Jesus was nowhere to be found. ‘Yaoi Jesus was so professional when we first met, what’s the matter with him now? Is this just how he acts after making a decent first impression?’ thought Donald. Perhaps even The Devil from The Bible was more gracious than Yaoi Jesus. There was a good chance that was the case.

Donald awoke from his slumber. He got ready just like any other day; he then went to the President work. When he arrived there, Joe Biden rushed over to him with a slice of toast in his mouth. Biden almost crashed into Trump, but he ended up running into the wall instead.

“T-Trump senpai! I-I’m actually an… an unreleased color. It’s still in development, but it’ll- I’ll be released soon. And it will be a whole new color, and it’ll be really cool. Like, it’s not even purple…  ////,” Biden blushed as he urged Trump to notice him, “…You, well I suppose you could maybe see the color… before it’s even fully developed… Would that… work?”

Trump walked past Biden. He entered the Politics Room, inside were Elon Musk, Aster Doorbell, and Ōkina Atama. They were locked in a heated discussion already by the time that Trump arrived. Ōkina slammed both of his hands on the desk that was still there.

“Guys, the left wants to take away our straws and replace them with their wuss metal straws!” Ōkina furiously informed the rest of them. A cacophony of gasps came from all around the room.

“What’s next? Paper straws?!” shouted Aster.

“Yes…” confirmed Ōkina.

“This is tyranny!” objected Aster, “And the tyrannical party isn’t even someone I like!”

“Hold on, I’m asking AI what to do right now,” chimed in Elon Musk.

“Tyranny is only fine when I'm winning!” Aster exclaimed. Ōkina nodded in agreement.

“Imagine me having to raise my boy(?) on fake straws like some sort of sheeperson!” yelled Ōkina.

“Wait, you're a father?” Aster and Elon Musk questioned in unison.

“Whaaatt noooo, I’m not a father to many!! No, what? Where’d you even get that from?? Haha,” answered Ōkina. Ōkina adjusted the collar of his shirt before remembering that he was not wearing a shirt.

“Be right back, I gotta go… use a straw,” Ōkina excused himself, “But like, not in a protesting way. Protesting is gay and for liberals.” Ōkina started inching away and out of the room.

“He’s right, protesting is gay,” acknowledged Aster.

Ōkina walked out of the room, they were not going to use a straw. He was actually heading out to go to his scheduled doctor’s appointment. As he walked through the hallway, he saw Joe Biden sitting on the floor and crying. Ōkina walked past him and outside the building. He then went on a really long walk over to one of those roads that had dirt and stuff around them. Once he finally arrived, he scanned his surroundings, looking for a van on the side of the road. He found the van, walked over and knocked on the window.

“What is it?” asked the person in the van. He sounded agitated.

“It’s my appointment? It’s been scheduled for 2 months. My checkup?” said Ōkina, “Dr. Real Doctor, did you forget?”

Dr. Real Doctor sighed, “No, of course I didn’t. I’m a medical professional with a real license, just what do you think of me?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I trust you completely,” apologized Ōkina. He went on, “… Give me the truth, Doc, how’s my leukemia?” 

“It seems that your health is not at risk, but- Well, I’d say our only real current concern is-” he stopped. “I assume the leukemia babies have persisted?” Dr. Real Doctor checked for confirmation.

Ōkina replied, sounding exhausted, “I still wake up to the fact that I birth them nightly in my sleep. By now I’ve forgotten how long this has been happening. I just know that it’s been ever since I became Leukemia God, alas I’ve forgotten when that was.”

“The only real issue for you is how you manage to take care of all these things, where do you get that much time and money anyways?” Dr. Real Doctor asked.

“Oh, I usually just neglect them all,” Ōkina was very nonchalant when saying this.

“… Not my issue. Well, make sure not to eat any unripened papaya. I’ll write you a note to help you remember,” Dr. Real Doctor spoke. A couple seconds of scribbling sounds could be heard. Then, Dr. Real Doctor rolled down the window slightly and handed Ōkina the paper. Ōkina wasn’t able to read the handwriting at all, they’d just have to rely on their memory for this.

“Thank you. Anything else?” Ōkina verbalized their gratitude.

“No,” Dr. Real Doctor rolled his van’s window back up, fully closing it.

‘I sure am one lucky guy to have such a great and real doctor,’ Ōkina thought to himself on the walk home. Eventually the house was in view, it was a fairly large house but not too ridiculous. Ōkina knocked on his door. ‘…Oh wait, this is my house. I can just invite myself in!’ he realized. When he stepped inside, the walls were barren and the house was drab. It didn’t appear lived in in the least. Same as it ever was, just like David Byrne said that one time. After taking a couple heavy breaths, he sat down at his fairly ornate desk. He pulled out the desk’s drawer and took a black notebook out from inside of it. On the front of the book, white letters spelled out ‘Death Note’ with a slight wobble to the characters.

Ōkina stood back up and walked down into his basement. The basement, in stark contrast to the above ground part of the house, looked extremely lived in. The walls were adorned with mystery stains, the floor a rough concrete covered in cobwebs, the entirety of the room being a rather disgusting sight. And of course, it was filled with ‘leukemia babies’. These ‘leukemia babies’ were blobs with a slight mucus-y look to them. Some were lankier and stood up more, others were rounder and more flat to the ground, with large black eyes that appeared wet at all times. Ōkina’s children were a two toned yellow-orange duo. At least they were to him, ultimately, every parent sees their children in a special way, different to how others see them. To most other people, his children were radioactive blue, like the Miku noodles, and a bright purple, like the color purple if it were bright.

“I gotta use this thing a lot to keep it, right? Or do I die if I don't use it? Regardless, I think I have to use this thing right?” Ōkina was half asking himself, half asking the leukemia babies. One of the leukemia babies nodded, some others confusedly looked around. “Thank you, I’ll give you some toast later if I remember,” Ōkina praised the leukemia baby who nodded.

“Rmphgrrmph gweepgwrp mrrrrrp bweep :3,” the praised one said in a cute little voice. Its beady eyes glistened.

“I’ll just sacrifice a couple leukemia babies as I typically do,” Ōkina stated to himself. Ōkina sat down on the ground.

Ōkina took out their Death Note and started writing… Leukemia Baby #2367466? A leukemia baby next to him explodes from a heart attack. “Oh wrong one, so what was that one's number?”

“Wait- was that the one I owed toast to?- Oh nevermind, there you are.” Ōkina pondered as to what his fellow political figures were up to right now.

Aster brushed his long purple hair out, gazing at his reflection in the mirror as he did so. He used two ribbons to tie his hair in pigtails. After finishing his makeup, he tightened the bows that held his hair in place. Despite doing this for 3 years now, Aster was still a bit bad at drag. The gay bar he went to, Resuscitate Homophobia, named after the hit song of the same name, still let him do drag there, regardless of if he wasn’t the best at it.

It was hard to believe that he really had been a drag queen for 3 years already. Time really does fly by quickly, he could still clearly remember the day that his drag name was given to him.

Aster had told Ōkina when he first started to do drag. After all, they went pretty far back in a way. Heck, Ōkina was the first person the Aster came out as trans to. Ōkina was the one who came up with the name Aster, and Aster really felt that it fit. At the moment, there was one more name that Aster was missing. So, yet again, he would source Ōkina’s help for naming him. Aster took the cell phone from out of his pocket. He dialed Ōkina’s number and waited for him to pick up. The phone rang. It went to voicemail.

“Aaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaaah!! Aaah!! Sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now. Aaaaaaaaaah!! Could you please calm down Leukemia Baby #79966… or whatever one you are? I’m trying to record my voicemail thing… Sorry that was just.. Political paperwork noises. Aaaaa-” 

The screaming in the background sounded reminiscent of the screaming in the background of the Xtratuna cover of Drunk. It seemed a bit odd, but who was Aster to question it? This was still a year before Aster started their career as a political figure, so they didn’t know how it worked yet. Actually, looking back on it, that was a little bit odd. Aster had never experienced any of those screaming sounds when they were doing political paperwork.

‘Oh, Ōkina is busy right now. I guess this won’t be as much of an emotional heartfelt conversation as I had planned,’ Aster thought. The phone beeped, signifying that it was time for Aster to leave a message now. “Hey, broski, I need- I don’t have a drag name, could you give me one?” Aster quickly ended the message following the completion of it.

Aster waited a while staring at their phone, he then proceeded to go about his day as usual. He decided to spend some time researching political figures and what you need to do as one. After about an hour and a half of this, Aster’s research was interrupted by a text from Ōkina.

‘Mizu5’ it read. Aster smiled, ‘You know, I think it fits.’ Succeeding the interruption, Aster took it as a nice stopping point for their research session.

Aster had finished getting ready a little while ago. He went on his way to Resuscitate Homophobia, the aforementioned gay bar, to perform his drag routine. It really was kind of nice that none of the other homophobic political figures minded his hobby. Hypocritical and strange? Yes. Oddly nice? Yes.

Donald Trump hated the gays. As it was, he was currently wrapping up his date with Beetlejuice. He was so glad that Beetlejuice had agreed to two dates with him… and possibly a third?

“Beetlejuice… Will you- Will we have a- When will we have our third date?” Trump assertively tested the waters between him and Beetlejuice.

“ Soon, ” Beetlejuice validated Trump’s confidence.

Feeling his newfound conviction, Trump decides to show off further, “Yeah, I picked the next date spot… It’s really romantic.”

Beetlejuice turned sheepish, he looked off to the side. “ Yeah… ” he mumbled. Beetlejuice was quiet for a moment, and so were his thoughts. Then, “I… think I really do love Trump,” Beetlejuice accepted.