One Night In Moscow; The Untold Story Of A Future President
It was a dark and stormy evening. The clouds had just settled upon Moscow and it was unseasonably cool. Beautiful women from around the globe descended upon the city to be judged on purpose by men who, under ordinary circumstances, would live in their parents’ basement until they inherited the home.
Mr. Donald Trump was attending this event. Not only is judging women by their appearances his favorite pastime, but he loves it so much he purchased the pageant.
Treating women like dogs at a dog show only took up part of his evening, however. He had other plans. Big plans. Huge, even.
Trump isn’t big on seafood. “It smells too much like a mistress who hasn’t bathed,” he once told a doorman at one of his many estates. However, knowing that the delicacy of jelly fish was being served at the Ritz Carlton that night, he thought no better time like the present than to branch away from well done steak covered in ketchup.
From his hotel room, he rang room service and, because he has to have the very best at an unreasonable inconvenience to everyone else, had them bring up the entire tank of jelly fish to his room so he could choose which one he would like to try.
“Not the brown one,” Trump said. Noting that one had a brown hue to it and he knew that if…
