The wall. Well, not really a wall. Just a two-foot tall fence. Sofia and Mateo with their Gatorade, granola bars, bags of clothes, and water approached Dumper’s wall with great laughter. The so-called wall was painted white and looked like a measly front-yard fence, the kind that falls over when you rest your arm on it. Sofia and Mateo approached wearing ponchos, jeans, and straw hats, even though the temperature was nearing 122 degrees, thanks to global warming. They each took a swig of Gatorade and looked out into the distance.

“America. That’s where we start our new life,” Sofia exclaimed. Mateo glanced over the wall, and noticed a beautiful golf course, green and brimming with sparkling ponds. Off to the left of the golf course was a sausage factory, a massive nearly windowless white building with a large cartoon sausage painted on the exterior and the slogan, “Orange you glad you found these presidential sausages?”

Together Sofia and Mateo ambled across the beautiful, lush golf course, where old rich men played on grassy hills in their expensive Footjoy golf shoes holding their steel Titleist clubs, and hitting terribly. Sofia and Mateo had never seen such old well-dressed people in their lives, except for old Mr. Alvarez who owned all the goats in Bonampak.

Suddenly, Tronald Dumper jumped out of the well-trimmed bushes, dressed head-to-toe in sweatshop-made attire: a Stuart Hughes suit with gold-leaf pinstripes and Mantellassi shoes with diamond-encrusted shoe laces.

“I caught you! Intruders!” Dumper yelled. “You are dirty, stink’n, no-good illegal immigrants! I’m gonna send you back to your home country!”

“You’ll never catch us,” Mateo replied in triumph. After all, Dumper was a stink’n no good president who spent his days twittering and tweeting. He didn’t have any endurance left.

“We aren’t wearing fancy clothing, and we aren’t a hundred years old like you and the other men on this golf course,” Sofia added. “Besides, we’re gonna make America great again, unlike you and your stupid supremacist friends, because nobody likes you. Not even the people who voted for you.”

Tronald screamed back in fury, “I am the president and you disease-riddled breeders will never be allowed in this country! I will continue building my walls, even though I’ll make you do all the work and you’ll pay for it too!”

“If I were you, I wouldn’t be so c***y,” Sofia responded.

“Let’s go!” Mateo yelled, as they start running toward the sausage factory, the only place to hide.

“Catch them now!!!” Dumper exclaimed. The elderly men on the golf course hobbled toward Mateo and Sofia. They ran with fervor, like a bunch of people trying to hold onto their lives. Rolex watches jostled on wrists, inexplicably thick grey hair bounced suspiciously, Clive Christian No. 1 cologne wafted in a thick cloud, killing whole swarms of bees.

Mateo and Sofia sauntered slowly down the green fairway, almost as if they were having the best time of their lives. Pretty soon, the old men and Dumper stopped to catch their breaths.

While they walked, Mateo and Sofia chatted about how their lives would be in the great in the USA. They would get a fine education and perhaps a decently paying job, and if they carefully budgeted and saved up their money, they could buy a cozy house. Behind them, they could hear the golf carts approaching with their whining motors and screeching breaks. To avoid the devastating injuries from a crash with golf carts, Mateo and Sofia decided to sprint toward the sausage factory.

Once inside, they dashed down the wide hall towards the back exits. Inside, the machines sounded like grueling gears, and the building smelled like ammonia, raw meat, and ground bones, with a hint of spices and pork. Before they reached the back exit, they arrived at a row of windows. Just then, Mateo and Sophia noticed that the sky was going dark.

“The solar eclipse!” Sophia reminded Mateo.

“Don’t look at it!”

Dumper appeared, sauntering in and preparing to block them with his gang of golf-club wielding old men.

“Stooopppp!” Dumper yelled. “Surrender! You’re surrounded.” At that moment, he, too noticed the darkening sky, and announced, “Hey! The solar eclipse!” All the men club-wielding men, including Dumper, dashed over to the window and looked outside. In unison, they yelled, “Ahh, my eyes!”

Dumper stumbled backwards, prepared to detain Sophia and Mateo, two hardworking, honest immigrants simply looking for a chance at a better life. But Dumper lost his balance and fell into one of the grinders, which for a moment stopped because Dumper’s body halted the spinning metal. All the people in the room waited expectantly for Dumper to climb out unharmed. But then, the grinders gears kicked in. They started turning once again, and Dumper screamed. Within a few minutes, out of the grinder came a long train of orange sausages, neatly arranged and bundled for sale.