Work Text:
Osama bin Laden, who decided the best place to hide from Bush is New York, walked into his day job, Chuck-e-Cheese wearing his work uniform (with lingerie underneath of course), with dread. He has enough children at home, and now he gets to spend his entire day working with, you guessed it, more fucking kids. At least he gets paid(?)
He walked into the kitchen to start cooking the Reagan-administration-era frozen pizzas hiding in the freezer until he heard a really loud PFFTTTTTT coming from the arcade at 7 am. “Oh for THE LOVE OF ALLAH IS SOMEONE ALREADY SHITTING HERE, ya rab….” He stormed out to see a grown ass white man shitting while playing a SpongeBob arcade game, the stench was almost enough to shut down the establishment for good.
“Uhm is that BIN LADEN?” Yelled the man as he turned his head around, “Uh.. I-I mean…. GOO GOO GA GA!!!!”” He screamed while farting.
“Seriously who the fuck let their mentally disturbed man child in here?!” bin Laden yelled.
“I’m telling bush you’re here… I’m tewwing Mr. pwesident…. I got to see his poop yesterday btw.” Groaned the grown ass white man,
“Who do you think you are and why the hell do I need to hear about Bush’s shit?” bin Laden responded tired.
“I’m agent Jackson with the cia,” he responded calmly showing his ID.
“OH FUCK” screamed Osama, he pulled his pants down and started shitting to cause a distraction from being caught.
“Of course Osama loves poop… so did Hitler!” Agent Jackson grunted while running off with a pants full of shit.
“Shit I hope I don’t end up as semen in Bush’s ballsack like I heard he was gonna do with Saddam after he discovered cock vore on deviant art..” murmured Osama. He went back to work leaving his steaming pile of shit on the floor.
Hours later…
{listen to America fuck yeah at this part}
Bush crawled out of the dumper in the back of the Chuck E. Cheese and crawled into the back. “Where’s the damn rat costume…” he murmured, as he found it, he put it on and cut a hole in the crotch. His all-American 9 incher swung as he went to go find Osama. “Come out come out wherever you are little jihadist” bush said a little too loud. He walked out into the arcade and hummed, everybody in the establishment screamed and started running off seeing his junk hanging out. Bin Laden noticed and started screaming while pointing. “GOTCHYA!” He screamed as he hurled himself into the kitchen. Bin Laden ran into the pizza fridge, he closed it and sighed, thinking he’d finally safe until he heard heavy breathing behind him, his eyes widened.
Bush pressed Osama into the icy wall,boxes of pepperoni and cheese pizza tumbling to the floor. Their mouths crashed together, but Bush controlled the kiss entirely–his tongue dominating, his hand gripping the back of Osama’s neck with absolutely authority.
“This is what’s happening,” Bush said redneckly, not a question. He spun Osama around roughly, slamming him face-first against the frigid metal shelving.
“Yes,” Osama whimpers, already compliant.
Bush yanked bin Laden’s thobe without ceremony, exposing him immediately.
“You came prepared,” Bush said, teasing Osama for his lingerie.
Osama didn't answer, which, is basically admitting it.
Bush spat into his palm and pressed forward with brutal efficiency that his presidency wouldn't have shown, forcing his way inside with a single, commanding thrust.
Osama gasped, his body tensing at the invasion, but he didn't resist. He couldn't, Bush was already establishing rhythm– hard, relentless, unapologetic. Each thrust drove Osama harder against the shelves, the metal creaking under the weight of Bush’s dominance.
“Stay still,” Bush commanded, gripping Osama's hips with bruising force, controlling his movement completely.
Osama obeyed, pinned in place, taking absolutely everything Bush gave him. The power dynamic was absolute– Bush calling every movement, every pace, every moment of intensity. Osama's lanky-ass fingers scrabbled uselessly against the shelving, his body completely at Bush’s mercy.
“You take what I give you,” Bush growled, his voice thick with authority, “Do you understand?”
“Yes…. Yes sir.” Osama gasped, broken and submissive, staring directly into Bush’s bright blue orbs.
Bush pulled out and slapped Osama across the face, he then slammed him into an ice block and crawled out of the back window by the dumpster.he drove deeper, harder, his control absolute. Osama came untouched, his body clenching around Bush, who followed moments later, spilling deep inside Osama with a satisfied grunt.
Bush pulled out and stepped back, already adjusting his junk with unsmiteable confidence. Osama remained against the wall, trembling slightly, still processing.
“This never happened,” Bush said, his tone brooking no arguing.
“Y-yes…” Osama said, before passing the fuck out.
3:04 am…
“What’s up guys today we’re at Chuck E. Cheese at 3 am because Verity said he’s gonna meet us here!!” Screamed arcade Craniacs pointing to the establishment.
“He said he’s behind the building,” Nicole said half asleep.
“Okay you guys he should be h-“ he was quickly cut off, bush crawled out naked with just the Chuck E. Cheese head on holding bin Laden’s unconscious body by the ankle.
“You guys, I think Chuck-e-cheese wants to bone me…” he whimpered.
“Shut the fuck up before I get you into Guantanamo bay on federal charges, you didn’t see shit and this doesn’t affect my presidency damn it.” Bush screamed, he walked out farting as he went into the unmarked cia van that just zoomed off into the night.
El fin.