It is Election Day.
You've been waiting for this moment for eight years. Eight years of battling an economic disaster, in which you've lost much of your assets and savings. Several times, you were almost faced with homelessness, all thanks to the actions of Wall Street and the political elite.
Obama can go to hell.
It is time for a revolution, one where career politicians like Hillary are thrown in jail for their many crimes against the country. For running the economy to the ground. For inviting illegals to bring their crime and drugs. For turning America into a cuckold of a nation that licked droppings from the boots of Israel, Russia, and China. For creating ISIS and supplying jihadists with weapons.
And how many lives did Hillary sell to the devil as Secretary of State? Even one life is too much. From Benghazi to Iraq, all she knew was how to rob nations of peace.
That was why you've been waiting so long. The nation needs a saviour and that saviour is Donald Trump. A beacon of alpha masculinity and American pride to defend the nation. A suave and successful businessman to fix the broken economy.
You have parked in a deserted parking lot and are on your way to cast your ballot when a noise behind you grabs your attention. You turn around to see what it is.
It is Crooked Hillary, standing there with her deceptively harmless face. It is the same deceptiveness she uses to worm her way through the media with a web of lies, the same deceptiveness that she uses to lie to the millions who follow her.
Shillary's skin starts to turn green, and her saggy, wrinkled form grows broad and petulant. Her ears extend until they more resemble antennae, and all her hair shed to the ground. She lets out a loud, odorous belch before announcing, "Get shrekt, kid."
And then you realise that Clinton's true identity is Shrek, and that he's been trying to hijack the US election to fund Scottish separatist fighters to reclaim his swamp from the British government.
"Vote for me," he demands, picking you up by your head. The action painfully strains your neck, and you can smell the stale, sour onion and garlic toad he ate for breakfast, fermented in stomach acid.
"No," you gasp. "I know your real
Intentions. I will never vote for an ogre like you."
"Oppressive conservative shitlord, can't yer see that I'm a trans-human wymmin? If yer dun find me attractive, then yer a fat-shaming cishet who needs ter check his privilege."
He throws you to the ground. Then, he pulls down his pants, and his large, eshrekt cock hangs loose. It is horrifying, the largest, hairiest cock you've ever seen, at least a meter long, and resembled a green onion. It even smells like one, combined with the odour of piss and shit.
He stands over you and shoves his anus in your face. A gush of green and brown ogre diarrhoea showers your head. He angles his anus to make sure to cover your body with his shit. Some gets in your eyes, momentarily blinding you. You rub your eyes, and when you look up, his monster eshrekt green onion throbs and pulses, veins so prominent they are visible under the hair.
Shrek grabs you by the hair and shoves his hairy meat sword into your mouth. It tastes bitter with shit, and fills your oesophagus with sour cum and onion sauce. You feel revolted, sick, as he penetrates deeper and deeper with every powerful thrust, past your stomach and into your intestines. He goes so far that you shit yourself, and then protruding from your own butthole is the other end of Shrek's dong. You've been skewered by this disgusting ogre, and you can't even scream, just cry. You think about Donald Trump, and if he would ever remember you for being a martyr to his political cause. You're one of the plebiscite masses, screwed over by big government and the political elite, figuratively, and now, literally.
Your silent prayer that resonates in your heart reaches Donald. A Ford pickup appears from seemingly nowhere and hits Shrek firmly. His green ogre head flies away, blood spurting everywhere as if he had just been beheaded by one of the ISIS militants that he wanted to let into the country to fulfil the refugee quota.
The pickup door opened. It is Donald Trump who is your hero. His intense, alpha stare disintegrates the rest of Shrek's body, leaving you covered in shit and cum.
The light that radiates from his body cleans you of the filth. Fresh and clean, you sit up.
"Don't worry, I won't let multiculturalism rape this country," he promised, walking over.
"Th-thank you," you manage to stutter, blushing at your idol. You're completely embarrassed. He had seen you so vulnerable, so disgusting, so defiled and used, so exposed…
He winks and looks you in the eye. Donald leans in close, his mouth close to your ear, and whispers, "We need to build a wall."
Donald's words make you hard. He notices this and grabs you by the boipussy. The bulge in his pantsuit is enormous, and it makes you even hungrier. He unzips his pants, unleashing his Trump Tower.
Without hesitation, you spread your asscheeks for Donald. Tears of ecstasy roll down your face as he rams into you, the ecstasy of small government and deporting illegal immigrants, filling your butthole with a small loan of a million dollars. Economics trickles down your leg in the way money trickles down from large corporations to the masses if they are given enough tax breaks.
You are so happy to please The Donald, and to serve your country patriotically. He shrieks like a bald eagle as he climaxes, full of American pride.
When he finishes, Donald pulls his pants back on. He helps you up and look into your eyes. You can see the Stars and Stripes in his gaze.
An actual bald eagle descends from the skies and blesses you with Freedom. Fireworks fill the sky. Donald flies into the sky, glowing in Liberty's glory. He gives you a wink as he disappears from view, over the buildings to liberate more Americans from communist liberalism.
You salute to the illuminated sky.