Donald Trump sat in his money vault surrounded by billions of one hundred dollar bills. He clutched one close of him as he rocked back and forth, tears spilling down his spray tanned cheeks. Trump looked down at the dollar, smiling at the green face sread over it.
"I have everything in the world," he whispered sadly. "If I could only have you..." he stroked the picture of his only love, the green meme of his dream, Pepe.
"Mr. Trump?" A voice called from outside the solid gold door of the vault. It was his manager. Ugh.
Donald quickly recollected himself, adjusting his beautiful blond toupe-I mean hair, and his gold linnen tie. He stepped out of the room and back into his office, his manager standing near his desk.
"What is it, uh, um..." Trump tried to recall the man's name, but the only name he could think of was Pepe's.
"It's Chris, sir. Your manager?" The Trumpster shrugged, unrecalling.
"Doesn't ring a bell. What is it?" He asked again.
"Sir, there's someone who has been detained by whitehouse officials for driving around the yard on a golf cart. He said he has a message for you sir."
"Well, where is he?"
Chris gestured for Trump to follow, and he led him down the hall to the golden Trump-evator, and took him down to the third floor. He took the excessive tanner to the first interrogation room and opened the door for him.
Donald's jaw dropped. In the chair across from him was the green frog himself. It was Pepe. He had always dreamt about meeting the meme, but he never thought it would happen quite like this. He was expecting something more like he would be horseback riding on the beach of an island at sunset and their gazes wouls meet and-
"Donald," Pepe whispered, tears glinting at his eyes.
The president was in complete shock, not one word willing to escape his lips.
"I've been wanting to give you something, ever since I was a little meme."
Donald nodded, and Pepe slid a thick book across the table. It was titled 'Reasons To Live".
"W-what's this?" He asked, gliding his hands over the red cover.
"Open it."
Donald obliged, lifting the cover. There was one word spread across the page. He gasped, smiling at the word.
"You"
"D-do you really feel this way about me?" Donald asked, his eyes welling with tears.
"Of course I do," Pepe responded, sounding very genuine.
Donald smiled. "Well, there's something I've been wanting to give you since I was a little Trump." He leaned down, closing his eyes, and locked lips with the frog. He pulled away and he could feel a blush spreading over his cheeks.
"I love you, Donald," Pepe whispered.
"You're the meme of my dreams, Pepe."
