The Donald

A certain leader at our mutual place of cult worship looks like Donald Trump.  I've named him the Donald and he hates it.  Last October was hunting season and it just so happens that he invited me and my acquaintance 7 Up retro to hunt on his property.  In a matter of hours I shot, cleaned, hung and skinned my first buck.  I told the Donald I would be back the next day with my husband to butcher and package the meat.
The next day-
My husband and I are in the basement with the Donald packaging meat.  My husband brings up that he has this stupid whip that he made when he was younger.

***Side note: I hate this whip. It is like the stepchild I never wanted.  He gets it out and shows off his Indian Jones moves, which is absolutely embarrassing!

Long story short the Donald says something about using a whip and I casually tell him I do not want to know what mountain people do with whips around that area.  He then proceeds to joke about me being kinky and having to call him because I have chained myself to a wall and can't get out.  I looked at my husband and instantly the space around us felt completely awkward and I wanted to die.  I chose to ignore the comment and continue packaging.

N2