Trudeau x Trump: Engulfed in a World of Orange

Chapter 4

That night, Trudeau didn't bother changing into his pajamas, thinking that if he was going to take down the world's most powerful man, he had to look good while doing it. Eloquently arranging the items in his hotel bedroom, he made sure that no matter where the Cheeto put his spray-tanned ass, it would look good before he did.

It was thought that all of the hotel rooms in the presidential district weren't bugged, in order to prevent scandals such as this, but Trudeau ensured that it was quite the opposite. He discreetly placed small cameras in every possible corner, ensuring that there was no place that may not have been under the watchful eye of the world media in a few days. 

He ordered his personal aide up to his room, the young Foreign Ministry intern completely unknowing of what diplomatic repercussions the orders he was about to receive would create.

"Damian, get the American president up here immediately. I have to hold a series of talks that may change the world forever as we know it," stated the Prime Minister, sure to not put any sort of emphasis on the word "talks". The young man from Halifax had no idea what was going on, but he blindly followed the orders of one of the worlds' most loved men, refusing to question the authority that had continually given him pay raises for effectively doing nothing.

Scuttling down the hallway to the Communications room, Damian exclaimed that the Prime Minister wanted the American president to his hotel room ASAP. Even though the president was just a few blocks away, it was unusual for the communications team to make such calls like this at a relatively late hour -- it was nearing 7 PM in Prague, yet it was only 1 PM in Ottawa. Trudeau wasn't feeling any sort of jet lag, and he was sure that the communications team was able to realize that, given the relatively close proximity of Washington and Ottawa timezone-wise, there would be no reason for any sort of patronization with their message, as he assumed that the Americans would be just as not tired as he was. They knew that the Americans were vastly less intelligent, yes, but Trudeau didn't think that there would be any sort of reason for the vastly superior Canadians to use any language that was lower than a sixth-grade reading level -- he was sure that at least the average American could understand English to that sort of level.

Except it wasn't to be that way. The Canadian team, not realizing their mistakes, had sent out a message which was effectively filled with words that didn't deserve to be in a third grade reading classroom. Not realizing their mistakes, nothing had really happened for a few minutes after the message was sent -- the Canadians assumed that they hadn't done anything wrong. However, given that this message was being sent to a president who, during his election campaign, had continually insisted that he had "the best words, the biggest words," this struck quite a nerve with the Americans. 

When the orange was alerted of this message in the middle of his jacking-off session, he was initially assuming that the Canadians were inviting him to a nice dinner of sorts as a way of hoping to bridge the gap between their differences. After reading it, though, the usage of words that most definitely patronized Americans all across the world infuriated the failed businessman. 

Smelling like cum -- jerking-off socks were outlawed in the United States due to the fact that you had to pay sock makers -- and reeking of alcohol, the Donald ordered his motorcade to proceed to the Canadian hotel.

It was all about to head to shit -- or was it?