The Devil And A Guy Who Never Read Webster’s

Satan works diligently behind a large, ornate desk.  A sultry female demon sashays into the office, followed by what at first appears to be a particularly ragged and foul-smelling soul of the damned.

Female Demon:  A Mr. Trump to see you, sir.

Satan:  Ah yes, thank you Sheila. Donald, a pleasure as always!  You’re looking well.  Did we have an appointment ?

Trump:  Lucy loose loose Lucifer, that is one hot devil woman!  I’d grab her by the pussy if I didn’t think I would get burned!

Satan:  So when has that ever stopped you?  And mitts off of Sheila.  Or any other demons.  We have rules here, you know.
(sighs heavily)
What is it Donald?

Trump:  I need more info on this thing, what did you call it?

Satan:  The Soul Migration, you mean.

Trump:  Yeah, the thing with the souls.

Satan: (impatient) Yes, yes what about it.

Trump:  So it’s like the thing I have going on at home, but instead of kicking people out, we’re bringing as many souls as we can here.

Satan:  First of all, your home will always be here, loathe as I am to admit it.  But yes, your grasp of the obvious is as tight as ever.

Trump:  And if I can increase the number of souls that end up here, then that would set everything up? Is that the deal?

Satan:  Ah yes, “the deal”.  Your particular area of expertise.  Many of the souls that you are procuring for me would most certainly have found their way to me on their own.  I will confess, however, the multitude of gullible idiots you’ve somehow managed to corral and point in my direction  have my saliva glands working overtime.

Trump:  And… ?

Satan: And if you can continue to work toward our goals in the long term, you will be allowed to design your own space in Hell.  Although I suppose it could be more aptly described as a starring role in your daughter’s own space in Hell.

Trump:  Satan, you are the man!!

Satan:  Ugh.

Trump:  Before I head back, any chance I can just say hey to Jeff?

Satan:  You cannot, and as usual, you know why.

Trump:  Oh yeah, he’s there under the desk again, is that right?  (chuckles)

Satan:  And by the way Donald, you need to stop coming down here to chat so often.  It’s really and truly doing a number on your skin.
Now please fuck off.

Trump is greedily set upon by maggots and ravenous tapeworm embryos until his body is completely devoured and returned to our mortal plane.

THE END!  (no, seriously, the actual end)