It was a fateful moment for Zeke and Leroy, two germs facing death in the rotting colon of a humanoid host named The Donald.
“We gotta get out of here, Leroy,” said Zeke.
“Can’t we rest some more? This carcass is so full of noxious, putrid shit I can hardly breathe.”
“NO!!!! You’re so weak you won’t last another day if we stay here. Come on! It’s now or never!”
“Okay Zeke….just give me your arm….I can make it….I can make it.”
“That’s the Leroy I know. WAIT!! I hear the host bloviating…..something’s coming!. This is IT, LEROY!!!! Ready………….GO! GO! GO! GO!”
Hanging onto each other, the desperate germs use their last ounce of strength catching the tail end of a giant exploding turd.
“Zeke! We made it! We’re finally out my friend!”
“((Whew))!! Let’s head for the nearest pile of dog feces, Leroy, and get ourselves cleaned up.”