With Liberty & Justice For ~Prom~

Hillbama: Dream Promposal

Today was the day.

Yes, the day.

     The day I finally got up the balls to ask my long-time celebrity crush and secret lover, Hillary Clinton, to the best dance of the year.

Prom.

     Of course, seeing as I'm the ex-president of the United States and graduated from high school, like, almost 4 decades ago, my "prom" isn't exactly what you'd think when you picture the fancy pictures beforehand and all the horny teenagers blowing it off within a few minutes of arriving for the nasty.

No, my prom? A bit more... Classy. But that's not today's story.

I rolled out of bed.

     "Good morning." I murmured to myself. Not wasting any time, I picked myself off the ground and put on my nicest bro tank and MAGA hat before running outside into the frigid polar vortex that is America.

     "HILLARY!" I belted at the top of my lungs, very much so wanting to wake every single one of my neighbors. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"...Barack?"

     I turned around to see her beautifully wrinkled face frowning at me from inside the house I just emerged from.

"Oh, there you are."

     "I was eating lunch with Michelle. You literally ran past me on your way out of the house." Hilliard furrowed her eyebrows. "And it looks like you forgot pants."

     "Oh, whoops." I looked down to see my favorite pair of bright pink boxers staring me in the face.

     "Wait a minute." I replayed the conversation in my head. "What do you mean you're having lunch? It's 8 am."

     "No, it's 1 pm. You purposely set your clock 5 hours behind because the disorientation makes you forget about the man in Oval Office."

"That does sound like something I'd do." I mused.

"Wouldn't we all. But, anyway. What was it you wanted to tell me?" She asked.

Oh, RIGHT!

"Come outside, bb!" I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her down into the street.

"Why?"

"You'll see!"

     When we arrived at the designated spot (a pothole that makes everyone cuss when they run over it, nicknamed the Damned Dent), I dropped her hand and smile.

"Hit it, boys!" I yelled, and throw my hands in the air.

All at once, strobe lights appeared from the middle of the sky and shined down on Chill Hill.

"What's happening?"

     The Backstreet Boys came out from behind a tree and began serenading my woman with "I Want it That Way." One of them winked at her, and I glare at him with a look that could peel paint.

A helicopter flying above us rained down miniature chocolates and rose petals all shaped and smelling of my face.

     A small choir of baby children holding corgis emerged from the nearest garage, and a cardboard cutout of Shrek was dropped from the heavens with the word, "PROM?" on his muscular bicep.

"Yes, Barack, YES!" Himmery sobbed, and wrapped her arms around me.

I hugged back, smiling.

Man, I sure hope Michelle won't be mad.