"—There they are! Indigo and Jolie!!"
"—Do you really think you can stop me this time, you foolish kids?!" shouted Donald Trump in a nightmare, having transformed into a giant orangutan. I stared at him, playing the villain role and said:
"—Think fast, Trump. You've already lost too many times—what makes you think you'll win now? Get ready for this!"
I sprinted forward, formed a cybernetic fist, and punched him straight in the face.
"—Ouch!" cried Trump, reverting to his human form. Now cornered in a bush, he growled, threatening us:
"—You'll pay for destroying America and turning it into a place where immigration is legal! Filthy little Latino lovebirds!"
As boos and insults rained down on him, Jolie burst into laughter:
"—Haha! What nonsense are you rambling, Donny Drumpo? We're just delivering justice for the way your Republican buddies treat us Latinos—people just looking for a better life in the U.S. But enough talk... it's game over, love."
Jolie glanced at Trump, beaten and bruised, and reached her hand toward me, ready to strike. I grinned maniacally and replied:
"—Let's do it, babe."
Together, we launched a powerful chi attack at him.
"—Wait! Noooo!" screamed Trump just before getting blasted...
And suddenly, he woke up from his nightmare—where Jolie and I were the villains. Sweating and startled, he sat up in bed. Melania turned to him, asking:
"—What's wrong, sweetheart? Another nightmare about that Mexican diva and that light-skinned Costa Rican dude tearing through New York?"
"—Yes, Melania... I think I truly hate and want revenge on Indigo Vicente Pereira Adame and Jolie María Ávila Rodríguez," Trump muttered.
"—Ever since they defeated me at the U.S.–Mexico border, they've kept pulling off these flashy stunts—like cockroaches multiplying!"
Trying to cheer him up, Melania hugged him and said:
"—Don't get like that, baby. So what if they didn't let you kick out those undocumented immigrants? You need to take your revenge another way."
"—I know... maybe I should launch a 'Liberation Day'—slap reciprocal tariffs on nearly every country! Make them fear you. Show them your strength!"
Melania gave him that idea, and Trump's face lit up:
"—Thanks, Melania. That actually cheered me up. That's exactly what I'm going to do. Let the world pay for depending on America... and let Indigo and Jolie learn that messing with the Trump family and with America is a death sentence."
He clenched his fist dramatically. But Melania looked at him, concerned:
"—Just don't let your thirst for revenge and madness consume you. If your chi becomes too corrupted, you might unleash your true form... and that would be a serious problem for the White House—and for all of America."
As she spoke, a mental image flashed of Trump transformed into a 10-meter-tall raging orangutan. Trying to calm her down, he placed his hands on her shoulders and said:
"—Don't worry, love. I'll keep it under control. I promise. Even if my pride makes it hard."
Melania, still unconvinced but calmer, replied:
"—Alright. I believe you... but if that transformation does happen, don't make me say that phrase to snap you out of it."
Two months later...
"—Wow, I didn't know that in these three months living in Costa Rica, Bodega Aurrera is called Pali here," said Jolie, surprised as we stood inside the store.
I looked at her and replied, "—Yeah, I already knew that. I saw it in a YouTube iceberg video. But honestly, why are we even here? Couldn't my mom just order food through an app or something?"
Jolie gave me a look and answered, "—Don't be so lazy, Indigo. Sometimes we don't get to do normal things like regular people because we're too caught up in our mission, my job, and your crazy college assignments."
"—Besides, the reason we came here is to get what we need to make proper Costa Rican-style birria tacos for dinner. I want you to feel a little more at home. You also need to start eating different things and stop being so selective—even if you're autistic."
She explained with a warm tone while pushing the cart. I sighed and answered,
"—You've got a point… I haven't had time for myself lately, trying to work through some personal stuff. But seriously, I hope these tacos aren't too spicy like your usual recipes. Still, I'll enjoy them—just so you don't get mad."
"—By the way… you don't know how to cook anything simpler, do you?" I asked, smirking.
She looked at me and said, "—Not really. I struggle with that. My grandpa never taught me other recipes. He focused on comforting me after my Aunt Jenell passed away."
"—Still, I'm glad you like what I cook. I know you've never had homemade food made by another girl before. And don't ask me why I didn't say her name… just help me find the ingredients so we don't spend all day here," she added with a shy smile.
I nodded, grabbed the shopping cart, and replied,
"—Alright, I won't ask. I get it. I'll help you. Like my uncle Germán used to say, 'We've got all the time in the world.'" I said, pulling my hoodie over my head and remembering those words—even if I ignored them back then.
We gathered everything we needed. When it came time to buy the meat, Jolie stared at the price in shock.
"—Okay, almost done… just need the beef. But seriously?! ₡7,000?! No way! I thought inflation in Costa Rica wasn't as bad as in Mexico!" she exclaimed, pulling the pack from the freezer.
I checked the price and said, "—Yeah, but I think this went up because of a tariff. You remember what Barron Trump told us when he joined us back during the cyberattack on my laptop?"
She glanced at me and nodded, "—Right, there was news about some reciprocal tariffs from that orange old man. But we ignored it, thinking it was just another tactic to boost his popularity."
"—Anyway, let's just get the meat. We've got no choice. We'll talk more about this after dinner," she added, holding her forehead in frustration.
"—Alright, fine. Whatever you say," I said, locking eyes with her and accepting the situation.
Later, we returned home. Jolie started making the tacos, and when I tried them, they weren't nearly as spicy as her usual dishes. I appreciated that she considered my sensory sensitivity. My family enjoyed them too—well, Santini ate nearly half of them.
After dinner, Jolie and I sat on a bench outside, watching the night sky.
"—Those tacos were amazing, Jolie. Great job," I told her.
"—You know… this evening reminds me of when we first met at the airport and fought Kai Trump. We lost that day, though…" I added, glancing over at her.
She sat closer and said, "—Yeah, same here. Three months ago, we were clueless, both dealing with a ton of personal stuff… but you've grown a lot since then."
"—And I'm glad you liked the food. It means a lot. None of those other girls who treated you badly ever tried to cheer you up or inspire you to grow the way I have. Even when you mess up. That reminds me… have you ever met others like you?"
Blushing slightly, I replied, "—Yeah… I've met a few people like me. Especially Franco—a dude way more mature than me. He taught me a lot, but I ignored him back then. I wanted to do things on my own."
"—I've matured along the way, but sometimes it still feels lonely dealing with all this. Especially after a clone of Nicolás Maburro stole one of the Threads and Steven turned against me… Hopefully someday he meets someone who helps him see what he misunderstood about me."
Jolie placed her fingers on my hand and said, "—That was serious… I felt useless back then, like Sakura from Naruto. But still, if he mistreated you and couldn't deal with your condition, you have to let that go."
"—And you shouldn't ignore the advice others give you. It could help in the future. Getting to know you helped me understand your condition better and accept who you are: The Technopathic Autist. You were born this way. Own it."
I looked down, teary-eyed, and whispered,
"—Thanks, Jolie. I swear, I'd never fight you—even if you were forced into something against your will."
She held my other hand, now concerned:
"—Me neither, Indigo. But… if it came to that, you might have to. To save me. Even if I don't want to be some damsel in distress."
Suddenly, she pointed at my phone. "—Looks like you got a message. Probably something about Trump's tariffs again."
I checked and replied, "—Yeah… it's from Barron and his older sister, Ivanka. They need our help. Apparently, their dad's completely lost it."
"—They want to talk tomorrow. Plus, Xi Jinping—the 'Winnie the Pooh' guy—wants to send us a message via hologram."
Jolie raised an eyebrow, looking at my phone. "—Looks like Donny Drumpo really lost his mind. It says he wants to revoke visas for foreign students just because two 17-year-olds like us ruined his life."
"—Exactly what I was thinking," I said. "Well, here we go again… ten chapters since we last stomped that guy."
"—But now we're a much stronger team," I added with a determined look.
"—I agree, Indigo. But don't get too confident. We don't know how powerful he's become in just three months. He is the kind of creepy old man who chases models half his age…"
"—Also, I still don't get how your anti-grav bike turns into a freakin' jet since Peru."
Jolie's words kind of ruined my mood. "—Thanks for killing the vibe. But yeah… I programmed a transformation command while learning to control my new form."
"—That explains a few things," she replied, arms crossed. "But I won't comment… for now."
I pocketed my phone, and we headed to bed.
The next day, we flew straight to Ivanka Trump's residence in Washington D.C., joined by Liam and Génesis.
"—Wow, this place is way bigger than Genesis's mansion in Greece… you remember, Jolie? When we picked her up in my anti-gravity bike-turned-jet?" I said while staring at the huge estate.
Jolie looked around, just as impressed. "—Yeah, Indigo… it's massive. Makes sense though—Trump's family can turn into homicidal hominids. Well, except for JPG Melania."
A woman's voice suddenly cut in, stern and offended.
"—How dare you insult my stepmother, young lady?!"
Jolie quickly turned toward her. "—Oh! I'm sorry… I didn't mean to offend your stepmom. That was my bad."
The woman softened. "—It's alright. I tend to lose my temper easily sometimes. I'm Ivanka Trump, Barron Trump's older sister. I was the one who helped send you the message yesterday."
I blinked, stunned.
"—Wait… older sister?! Whoa—you're really gorgeous for someone who's forty," I said, slightly flustered.
Jolie nudged me and rolled her eyes.
"—Don't flatter her so much, Indigo. It's awkward. And besides, we already knew it was her from the message… But hold on—where's Barron?"
Barron suddenly popped into the room.
"—Right here! Hey, Indigo, Jolie—it's been a while! And I see you've got new teammates. Looks like your thread-recovery team keeps growing. Mind introducing them?"
Jolie jumped, startled. "—Holy crap! Don't sneak up on us like that!"
She then smiled. "—Anyway, hey to you too, Barron. Yeah, the team's gotten bigger… Cuchurrumin, go ahead and introduce them."
I sighed. "—Alright, alright. But don't call me that—it makes me nervous."
"—These two are Liam Gael Hunter Ramírez, a geology student and Peruvian hero who can control rocks and shape them with his chi…"
"—And Genesis Edith Reyes Aguilar, a rich girl who loves singing and shopping. Her chi lets her transform into a powerful minotaur mare. Just don't mention snakes—she's still afraid of them."
Liam gave a casual thumbs up.
"—Nice to meet you, my dude," he said in his Peruvian accent.
Genesis followed with a curtsy.
"—It's an honor to be here, mister-almost-Trump. I even started overcoming my fears… thanks to my dear Liam."
Liam turned red, looking at her shyly. Barron nodded, impressed.
"—Wow, you two are great additions. But enough introductions—let's get to the real issue. Ivanka, tell them what's going on with our dad."
Ivanka stepped forward, lowering her gaze.
"—Alright. Ever since our father lost to you at the US-Mexico border, he completely lost his mind. That was three months ago—and honestly, it was his own fault."
"—He's gone off the rails… imposing reciprocal tariffs on the entire world—even penguins! He tried to revoke student visas for foreigners who just want a better future."
"—The worst part? He even tried to place tariffs on foreign movies. Thankfully, he failed at that. But some of my siblings—yes, even my insufferable sister—have also gone mad with revenge. Not toward the new members like Liam or Genesis… just you two."
"—That's why we need your help. We want to stop them. To help our father come to his senses before we have to commit him to an asylum."
I rubbed my head, a bit bored. "—That's a lot of words… I almost fell asleep. But why didn't you lose it like the others? You're Trumpete's daughter too."
Ivanka took a breath. "—It's complicated, autistic Tico. I love my father and was raised closely by him and my late mother… but I don't agree with his reckless choices."
"—Like taking office a second time or refusing to pay damages after that border incident near Tijuana."
She looked down, visibly conflicted. Jolie then chimed in, "—We understand. And yes—we'll help put Donnie Drumpo back in his place. Teach him that revenge is a poison."
"—I don't usually make El Chavo del 8 references, but this time it felt right."
"—Also, in the message you sent us yesterday, Xi Jingping—or Xi Jing Kito, like I call him—said he had something else for us in a hologram. Mind if we watch it now?"
Ivanka blinked. "—I didn't get that nickname, but fine. Maybe it'll help knock some sense into my dad."
"—Alright, here comes the message… straight from that grimy, butt-smelling Chinese president—just quoting what Dad said in that debate with Biden."
She pressed play, and a hologram of Xi Jinping appeared:
"—So… you must be Dianging, Zhu Li, Li Ya Mu, and Qiyuan. I'm using your names in Chinese because I don't know them in English."
"—This message won't last long. I just wanted to say—I've sent you bamboo bullets filled with premium jasmine tea. They'll help you pacify the Trump family… except for JPG Melania. She wasn't involved."
"—This is President Xi, signing off. I've got to get back to manipulating my population to make sure they never suspect what I'm really planning. Good luck stopping my greatest rival."
The hologram vanished. All four of us stared, wide-eyed, and said simultaneously:
"—Wait… those were our names?! In Chinese?!"
"—Dianging? Seriously, that's my name in Chinese? That sounds weird and kinda annoying," I muttered, rubbing my chin. "But hey, your name sounds a lot like Chun-Li from Street Fighter, Jolie."
Jolie blinked, then smirked. "—That's actually a good point. Too bad I don't have the thighs to match hers. Still, I expected more from the message. Thought it would be some full-on propaganda speech, but… eh, I'm not complaining. Kinda proud of the name."
Genesis, however, wasn't as amused. "—Easy for you to say, Jolie. You're fine with your Chinese name… but mine? Qiyuan? That doesn't reflect me at all. I'm a wealthy girl who can turn into a minotaur mare, not some poetic-sounding flower."
Liam crossed his arms, frowning. "—Gene, don't even start. Mine's worse, but I've made peace with it. What I'm not okay with is—how the hell are we supposed to fight four Trumps at once?! They probably have way stronger chi than we do, causitas!"
We all turned to look at Ivanka and Barron Trump. Both raised their hands simultaneously, flustered.
"—Don't look at us," they said in unison. "We're just here to pass on the info to Indigo and Jolie."
I took a deep breath and stepped forward. "—I don't know… I might be able to come up with a plan. Not saying it'll work, but I'll try— even if we end up totally screwed."
I held out my pinky.
"—That's the spirit, Indigo!" Jolie said, grinning as she linked her pinky with mine. "Taking initiative even when the odds are against us. We'll each play our part."
"—Then let's do it," I said, feeling energized. "Together, as a real team—united we stand, never defeated!"
We started crafting a plan: everyone would take a position to track what Trump and his children were planning. Ivanka had told us he was somewhere near one of the chambers, so we made our way there inside the White House.
As we approached a large hallway, I pointed ahead.
"—Just a bit further… Trumpete should be right past that room."
Suddenly, a voice echoed from the ceiling.
"—Not so fast, the Autistic Technopath!"
A shadowy figure lunged toward me, ready to strike.
"—Indigo, watch out!" Ivanka yelled, leaping forward. She transformed into a crowned lemur mid-air, deflecting the blow and yanking me out of danger.
Flat on the ground, I looked up.
"—Whoa… I almost got sucker-punched by a bearded orangutan. Thanks, Ivanka."
She helped me up. "—Don't thank me yet. One solid hit and you'd be out of the fight. That would've really worried your friend."
She turned toward the attacker.
"—So we meet again, dear brother. Let me guess—you want revenge just because these two beat our father at the border that day, right?"
Trump Jr. stepped forward, smirking. "—Ding ding, you guessed it, traitorous sister. And I didn't come alone. Eric and Tiffany are with me."
"—We're not stopping until we get payback—including you, my dear sibling," he added as Eric and Tiffany joined him, standing in the chamber like villains in a boss battle.
Barron clenched his fists. "—Looks like an ambush… But maybe we can still settle this like a family, right?"
Tiffany rolled her eyes. "—Not a chance, Barron. They made us pay for the damage from Dad's last fight. Now it's our turn to return the favor—with a peaceful little revenge."
She started twirling her hands unnaturally. "—Can't wait to unleash my chi-disrupting mental waves!"
Eric grinned like a maniac. "—Yeah, peaceful my ass. You're all about to get wiped out, traitors—and you too, you filthy Latinos!"
He fired a sonic wave that shattered part of the White House wall.
I stepped forward.
"—We don't have a choice, Barron. They're your siblings, but they've lost it. Take your position—if you want to save them, fight."
I tapped my belt and transformed into my chi form, energy surging around me.
Jolie nodded, fire in her eyes. "—Indigo's right. I know pacifism keeps you from hurting those you love, but they're too far gone. They're obsessed with revenge."
She raised her hand and shouted:
"—By the power of Quetzalcóatl—Transformation!"
Her outfit changed, more dazzling and powerful than before—an upgraded form earned after being humiliated by a Maduro clone in the last chapter.
Barron hesitated, then whispered with tears in his eyes,
"—Okay… even if I don't want to fight them, I'll use these jasmine tea weapons to save them."
He transformed into a capuchin monkey, trying to stay composed.
Ivanka looked at him and sighed, a sad smile on her face.
"—They brought this on themselves, little brother. Whether by force or reason, we'll make them see the truth. Even if I've never gotten along with Tiffany, this… this is bigger than our old arguments."
She stepped into position, joining the plan I'd set into motion.
And so, the six-versus-three battle began. They were more powerful than usual, driven by madness and revenge that boosted their chi by 25%. To keep it brief: Eric launched relentless sonic waves that assaulted our ears, making it almost impossible to counterattack. Add to that his insane speed and durability, and even a combo move where Jolie used her wind to launch me and Genesis into him—me delivering a cybernetic headbutt while Genesis charged in with a brutal minotaur ram—still wasn't enough to fully take him down.
That's when Ivanka came up with a strategy she'd been saving for ages but never dared use until now. It relied on one key advantage: Eric's stupidity.
Genesis shoved me toward him to deliver another cybernetic headbutt while he was distracted, and I hit him hard enough to land a jasmine tea dart right into him—finally knocking him out, though it wasn't easy.
Now only two remained: Trump Jr. and Tiffany—the most powerful and dangerous of the bunch. Tiffany started unleashing mental waves that weakened our chi by forcing us to face our worst fears. The battle turned into a nightmare.
Jolie and Genesis saw terrifying illusions of lions and serpents. I saw everyone I'd ever hurt in my past, and Liam faced painful visions of his parents rejecting him for having chi. We were frozen, mentally trapped.
Barron Trump, watching us all succumb to the illusion, realized something. He shouted at us:
"—They're not real! Tiffany's projecting these to make you vulnerable so she and Junior can finish you off! Snap out of it!"
Hearing that snapped us back to reality.
I transformed my hand into a lightsaber and sliced the illusions in half. Jolie fired an elemental spiral beam, much like Piccolo's Makankosappo from Dragon Ball, to annihilate the lions. Genesis used the same technique she'd unleashed against the Yakumama back in Peru to obliterate the serpents. Liam smashed the ground with a quake of rocks to break free as well.
We regrouped and combined those same techniques to attack Tiffany. She held on longer than Eric, but eventually, a jasmine tea dart from the bazooka put her down too.
Now only Trump Jr. was left—the most ruthless of Ivanka's siblings.
Without warning, he launched into a savage flurry of attacks, hitting us all hard and knocking each of us to the ground. No matter what we tried, we couldn't get close.
Seeing us on the brink of collapse, Barron finally acted. He stopped holding back and unleashed his full strength, charging at his brother and landing blow after blow.
"—NOW, INDIGO!" he shouted.
Using what little chi I had left, I focused, lifted the dart with telekinesis, and launched it straight into Trump Jr.'s shoulder. The battle was over… barely.
Jolie, getting up and catching her breath, muttered,
"—Damn, that one was brutal… we were this close to getting destroyed. If it hadn't been for your plan, papucho Indigo… Barron really pulled through in the end. Guess he finally ditched the pacifist act."
She looked at me, a little flustered. I looked back at her, blushing.
"—Thanks… I just did what I could," I said, trying to stay calm. "But still… we're all seriously injured. I don't think we're in any shape to take on Trumpete like this…"
Genesis limped toward us, clutching her bleeding arm.
"—Don't panic, Indigo! Weren't you supposed to meditate before facing him? Ugh… whatever. We'll head back—you two go deal with that lunatic gringo."
Liam helped her up and looked at me.
"—She's right, causa. This is your fight now. We're part of the team, but this ain't our battle to finish."
Genesis pulled out her phone.
"—I'll call a private jet. We're heading to a hospital."
"—Just make sure you wreck that man with every trick you've got," Liam added, wincing as he held his leg.
Jolie turned to me and placed her hand on mine.
"—Don't look so down, querido. This is ours to end. Please…"
I looked into her eyes, held her hand, and whispered,
"—Alright. Let's do it… like we did that day at the border."
She blushed slightly, clearly still trying to keep her feelings in check. But this was serious. We couldn't afford to mess it up.
We stepped into the main hall of the White House.
High above, perched on the ceiling, Donald Trump glared down at us—his eyes glowing red.
Barron's gaze shifted toward his mother, Melania, lying unconscious on the floor nearby.
He clenched his fists and said—
Barron, worried, asked his mother,
—Mother, are you okay? You look hurt.
She replied,
—Yes, I'm fine, but your father didn't listen to my warning about what could happen if his thirst for revenge got out of control. Now he's on the roof, transformed into a bloodthirsty beast.
Although I tried to do what I could, it didn't work, because even when I transformed into a Haast's eagle to intervene, it would consume too much of my chi energy.
Melania explained the situation to Barron, telling him about the limitation of her chi.
Barron, somewhat worried, said,
—That's serious. Indigo and Jolie, do you think you can do something to stop my father, with his madness and uncontrollable thirst for revenge against you?
He looked at us as he said this. I replied, knowing how difficult this was:
—I don't know, I think I can do something, but unlike the last time when I almost killed him with my anti-gravity motorcycle…
—I see it as something impossible —I said, grinding my teeth out of fear, realizing how difficult the situation was.
Jolie encouraged me:
—Don't say impossible, Indigo. We've been through worse before, and that gave us more experience.
—We did it once, and we'll stop him again together, just like three months ago —Jolie said, giving me encouragement while mentally invoking "by the power of Quetzalcoatl" to transform.
I answered, more motivated,
—Alright, let's finish this. If we stopped him once, why not a second time?
—We still have one last jasmine tea dart from the weapons Xi Jinping gave us, so we just have to distract Trumpete until we get to New York, where Melania will come flying, transformed into a Haast's eagle, bringing that object to throw at him, returning him to normal just like three months ago.
I said this with a smile, seeing the weapon with the last planned dart — a last resort strategy.
Jolie was surprised and said,
—Wow, you thought of that strategy quickly, brainiac. But the problem is, we have little strength left after the previous fight against Barron's brothers and Ivanka, who are also Trumpete's children.
—But we'll try to do what we can —I said, clenching my fists.
Ivanka stopped us, saying,
—Wait, Indigo and Jolie, take these Tic Tacs. They can restore your chi energy for three hours.
—I've been saving them for a special occasion, and this is the moment —Ivanka said, pulling them out of her pocket.
We took them and said,
—Thanks, this will help us a lot to try to distract him as much as possible.
I took one, and Jolie said, tasting hers,
—I appreciate it, although this mint flavor is a bit strong.
—Hey Melania, do you know your role in my friend's strategy? —Jolie asked, slightly disgusted by the flavor.
Melania replied,
—Yes, I know my position. Don't worry, you brats, I'll go after you, but just so you know, I still resent the beating my husband took three months ago. I won't forgive you for that —she said bitterly, moving her arms.
After that, Donald Trump, transformed into a 10-meter tall orangutan, came down from the White House roof, shouting,
—Indigo and Jolie, you'll pay for this, you damn Latin brat rapists!
—I'll defeat you somehow; you have no escape —Trump said, furious and angry at us.
Jolie, amazed by his level of madness and revenge, said,
—Wow, his madness and thirst for revenge are OVER 9000, Indigo!
—I said, surprised, —OVER 9000? This must be a joke!
—Run quickly from here so we have time to distract him before he turns us into cracklings with a few punches! —Jolie said, looking to the side.
I, also impressed, said,
—OVER 9000?! This has to be a joke!
—But let's go —I said, scared, propelling myself to grab Jolie's hand and flee to distract him until Melania arrived with the jasmine tea dart.
Then, we left very fast, flying across almost all of Washington until reaching New York.
After two hours of flying, throwing everything we could—cyber laser rays from me, and attacks of wind, rocks, and thunder from Jolie—we arrived at the city.
Donald Trump started throwing cars, trucks, and even planes, behaving like a complete mad psychopath, not caring about harming innocents as long as he could get revenge on us for what we did.
But we managed to dodge most of the attacks, except for some cars that hit us when the effect of the Tic Tacs wore off.
After those hours, we returned to our normal state, so he began hitting us very hard, taking advantage that we were wounded while flying.
Still, we tried to resist as much as we could, but he was much stronger than us.
After a while, Melania arrived and told us to bring him to Queens since taking him to the Statue of Liberty would be too dangerous. That way, she could have time to hit him with the dart.
We did that, and with the little strength we had, we brought him to that neighborhood.
Although he tried to hit us, Melania took advantage of her eagle eye and hit him.
After that, the three of us kicked him together to return him to normal, just like three months ago.
After the fight, quite tired, I said,
—I can't believe this turned out to be so complicated this time, Jolie, but at least this time I didn't try to kill him with my anti-gravity motorcycle. I deserve a break.
My head fell on Jolie's chest, and she said, blushing,
—That's part of learning from past mistakes, Indigo, but why did you have to lie on my chest?
—I was tired, and they feel very cozy, like a pillow —I said.
—I told you not to get revenge when you lay on my shoulder when we went to Peru, but you didn't resist, and you did it anyway —I said, looking tired at her.
—Alright, I can let that go, but I'm not going to punch you for being a stupid pervert because honestly, you're looking kinda handsome —Jolie said, still blushing.
—But hey, how's Dona Trompas doing? —Jolie said, looking at me bitterly and blushing a bit while turning to look at Donald Trump.
He said, confused,
—I don't know what happened to me. I just heard you two had reached the White House, and I got furious.
Melania Trump came closer and said,
—It's not that, love. It's just like I warned you, your thirst for revenge that had accumulated over weeks toward Indigo Vicente Pereira Adame and Jolie María Ávila Rodríguez
—corrupted your chi. You should have listened when I warned you, even if you don't like it because you see some women as fragile.
—No matter how much we want to get revenge, sometimes revenge is not an option; it can kill and poison your heart.
She said those words while stroking his head.
He answered, understanding,
—Alright… alright, I get it now, but you were right about that. Besides, I hurt some poor American citizens, even if it's hard to admit.
—Also, I hated Indigo and Jolie for being meddling damn brats.
—I have to admit they were right about my actions since my parents were immigrants too, and just for being immigrants, they weren't deported like I was with these two.
—But it doesn't matter; I still hate them because that's a trait of my narcissistic personality.
Donald Trump admitted his mistakes but still acted like himself, because there's no way he would change.
Melania said,
—I'm a little glad you understood and admitted some mistakes, even if you're proud.
—Now, what will you do about your ties with Indigo and Jolie? —Melania asked her husband with a smile, closing her eyes and giving him a kiss.
He replied,
—Well, simply a cold war state, without attacking each other.
—But this time, without threats or tariffs, although I might impose tariffs on American companies working elsewhere in the world.
—Those two have to work hard to defeat that damn masochist Putin.
We, surprised by what he just said, said,
—Cold war?!
—I said, out of context, —Wow, the jasmine tea dart worked.
Jolie said,
—Yeah, a lot. But he's right, we must defeat that Russian at some point.
—Though he forgets that Maduro stole one of the threads in Peru.
—Speaking of him, I wonder what he's doing right now, since he hasn't sent robots to spy on us —Jolie said, crossing her arms.
—I'm wondering the same, Jolie, but now we have to go back home —I said.
—But hey, Trumpete, what are you going to do about the damage you caused chasing us? —I said, putting my hand on my chin, not knowing what he planned, and asking Donald Trump.
He said,
—Just leave, I'll take care of paying for the damages this time, even if it means getting sued and ruining my reputation.
—But you take care of capturing Maduro since his arrest warrant, which I put out in 2016, is very high.
I said,
—Alright, I expected something else, but that's better than sending your own kids to pay for it.
After saying that, we flew away, taking those Tic Tacs Ivanka gave us to recover our chi strength, took my anti-gravity motorcycle, and left.
But we didn't realize that the same Maduro clone we faced was spying on us from the shadows.
He quickly returned to Venezuela and told Maduro:
—My general, I found out Trump has an arrest warrant against you and that the Autistic Technopath and the Aztec diva plan to stop you.
The clone kneeled before his feet, to which Maduro replied,
—I already knew that, my creation, but I have a plan to control that brat to make her commit acts against her will so my plan moves faster, something that egotistical Ortega couldn't do.
—Also, I don't plan to fuse with dear Cilita yet; it's not the time.
Maduro sat in his chair watching Adrián Uribe on a video call, who said,
—I honestly don't even know why you called virtually, but your microphone is on.
—But I see you want me to make some cumbia for someone. I have no experience in that, but maybe I can try something…
This looks like a bad sign for what might happen in the next chapter…