(a crackfic inspired by @ChxrryMilk It won't let me tag you)

It was a somewhat normal day, except for one thing. Berkut and Clive dragged Fernand out of the house to get him some fresh air. The green clad blond wasn't having any of this and was shocked that his lord was actually having fun for once without his fiancee. They had dragged him to some place where commoners get drunk and scream at men slamming their sweaty bodies together and eat cheap food called a sports bar. The blond was swirling a pretzel bite around in one of the cheese sauces when he heard that.

"Mommy, why is Donald Trump at the bar?" Aside from rage, all that could swarm in his mind was WHY THE FUCK DID THEY LET A SMALL CHILD IN THE BAR!?  The blond turned to see a small boy pointing at him, his other hand being held by an obviously pregnant woman.

"Don't look Timmy, he's a bad influence." The mom said, dragging her kid towards a table.

"WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST CALL ME!?" The green clad blond shouted. "I AM NOT A CHEETO WITH A DAMN HAIRBALL ON HIS HEAD!" He then got off the stool he was on, picked it up off the ground and threw it at the mom, it hitting her square in the face.

"Bar fight!" Another dude from across the bar shouted, picking up an empty beer bottle and throwing it at another patron, starting a chain reaction.

One bar fight and a police calling later...

"Dude, I'm sorry to say this but I've gotta ban your friend..." The bar tender sighed.

"It's alright. We were expecting him to go out in handcuffs." Clive replied. "Note to self: never do this again."

"Agreed..." The prince sighed as he wrapped one of his injuries from the fight in gauze.

"Sir, why did you throw a bar stool at this woman?" A cop asked Fernand, who was having several of his wounds treated

"This peasant called me a cheeto with a hairball on it." The blond replied.

"To be honest, she is kind of right." A second cop said. "Not on the bad influence part, but the Donald Trump part."

"WHY YOU!"