Wrong Potion in the White House

Trump's tiny fingers reached for the potion, barely managing to reach around it.  He grabbed it, and desperately uncorked it.  He swallowed the potion.  The bottle hit the floor, and smashed.  This wasn't the right potion.  He felt it.  His hands weren't getting bigger.  Bannon had lied to him.  Something was happening though.  His soft leathery skin began to loosen, and fall off of his body in chunks.  He ran rapidly to the White House bathroom, looking for a mirror.  He looked in the mirror, and saw something that horrified him.  His once proud orange hue had turned a more golden brown.  The Secret Service agent looked on in horror.  Trump screamed, "I'm a Mexican?!"

We all die

When you die, do you want to be buried?  Did you plan on morticians filling your veins with toxic chemicals like formaldehyde? How about them wiring your jaw shut?  How about them costing your family and closest loved ones $7,000?  The only ethical option is cremation.