A short story I found in my dream journal
Melania snapped her fingers and her sniveling husband appeared. The Donald slunk in, all apologies and thank yous and what do you need my sweet queen. He just wanted to please her, but he had no idea what she was planning each time she sent him out to bumble and fight and bluster. To outsiders, his decisions seemed random. Only she understood their true purpose.
But nobody could ever understand her; could know what it was like to grow up as a middling Slovenian girl in some backwater town dreaming of glory. She used her assets—her beauty, her unassuming wisdom—to maneuver herself, to find those in power and manipulate them. Little did anyone suspect that it was she who had single-handedly won the election for her husband, using her charms on that idiot Putin to get him to do her bidding.
For now, her name only appeared in the media for the most banal reasons. But soon they would know. The United States was finished. Each administrative action further weakened the nation's standing, brought it closer to its destruction. Russia would soon be forgotten as well. Neither country deserved the top spot in the world. Melania calculated the days, as each little leak and scandal drew her ever closer to resurrecting the great Slovenian Empire—and then they would all grovel before her!