I Stole Trump's Heart, Then I Made America Gumbo

Alright, you all, listen up. The name’s Daisy-Mae Dubois, straight outta the Louisiana swamps.
A hurricane roared through and took everything I had, except for my grit and a killer gumbo recipe. I figured my life was over, destined to scrub toilets for rich folks in Washington D.C.
Next thing I know, I’m in the White House.
And then it gets crazier.
That man with the hair that looks like it lost a fight with a lightning bolt, Donald Trump, he fell for me. Hard.
When he was chasing me, he laid on the sweet talk thicker than his tweets.
But now? Now he thinks he can send me packing with a Greyhound bus ticket?
Come on. Daisy-Mae ain’t no sweet magnolia.
This is war. And I’m about to teach him that the price for messing with a Cajun spitfire is half his damn empire.