My "The Apprentice" memorabilia collection is cursed or something

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I looked down at the signed and framed photograph of Donald J. Trump, wondering what the hell was going on.

"Barbara! Barbara, it's happened again!"

"Your little TV show collection thing?"

"It's a big TV show collection, Barbara, and it celebrates one of the most popular shows of the Noughties. Tens of millions of people tuned in."

"Long time ago now, David. Is the shit back?"

"It's not shit, Babbs. It's... some kind of ectoplasm."

I fingered the sticky black goo that seemed to emanate from the presenter's face. Strange goings on had been happening for months and for no discernible reason. Every few nights an item such as my still sealed copy of "The Apprentice, play the show at home", or the face scrub Piers Morgan once used to buff his face, would spontaneously combust, or be thrown across the room, smashed to pieces etc. I was at my wits end about it I really was.

"You haven't started worshipping Satan have you, Barbara?"

"No, David."

I cleaned the ectoplasm off with great care and resolved to call the local priest, just in case.

The priest made little difference. In the end his only suggestion was for me to take my collection off the porch, keep it inside. But my "The Apprentice" memorabilia collection was my life's greatest achievement and really showed off the front entrance to my home, what with the spotlights and all. So I paid him no mind. Besides I had a better opportunity to get to the bottom of things.

"Are you sure it'll be altright, Dad?"

"It'll be fine, Janey." I said to my daughter, who I had convinced to take my haunted memorabilia to school. Her science project this year was to prove the existence of ghosts or curses or whatever.

"Besides," I continued. "Even if the experiment doesn't work, who wouldn't be chuffed to see a collection like this?"

"Ok, thanks... Dad."

We had to collect Janey from school later that day as the curse had become even stronger when taken away from the priest's blessings. Very unusually for her, Janey had gotten into a fight and been expelled. All we could get out of her was that little Timmy from across the way had pushed her over.

"I know little Timmy's Dad, Jimmy. I'll go see him right now and get to the bottom of this."

"Go on then." Said Barbara.

I marched over to Jimmy's house and knocked on the door. I should have known there would be trouble as I was still holding on to a locket containing the trimmed hairs of Geraldo Rivera's moustache. As soon as Jimmy opened the door he grabbed me by my collar and punched me in the face. I crawled home and returned the facial hair to a blessed environment.

"I don't know what it is Barbara. The hold this evil spirit has over my "The Apprentice" memorabilia collection is very strong. Very strong."

"You don't think it could be anything to do with him being president?"

"Who?"

"Trump."

"Trump? The president of what?"

"Well, America!"

"You sure about that?"

"It's been on the news, David."

"Has it?"

"Yes, David."

"Well I never."

"Look, why don't you put your collection away and try a nice Alan Sugar shrine?"

"I think you know exactly why I don't want to do that, Barbara."



Credited to koalazeus 

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