Exclusive interview with the bowl of shamrock that was presented to President Trump

This is an exclusive.

There comes a time in every young content creator's life when they hit a career-defining moment. Undoubtedly, this is mine. I was given special access to the bowl of St Patrick's Day shamrock that was presented from Irish Taoiseach Leo Varadkar to the President of the United States Donald Trump yesterday. What follows is a genuine interview that took place between myself and the shamrock shortly after it was delivered to POTUS in the White House. In the interest of privacy, I have protected the identity of the shamrock by referring to it as 'Shamrock'.

---

Me: Bowl of shamrock, it's a pleasure to meet you. Thanks so much for taking the time out to do this interview. Shamrock: Please, call me Shamrock. And thanks for asking me, this is actually my first interview so forgive me if I'm a little nervous. Me: Don't worry, I'll go easy. Okay, let's start with the basics. Where are you from? Shamrock: In a nutshell, hydroponic technology was used to grow a huge shamrock crop in a greenhouse back home in Ireland, just outside Wicklow. We were sown in September and I've been developing into the gorgeous green bush that you see before you ever since. Me: Incredible. You said there was a whole crop of shamrock, so how did they pick you for POTUS? Shamrock: This is going to sound quite vain, but it all comes down to appearance and I was by far the best looking. A good friend of mine, Nigel, was my closest competition, but I wasn't worried. He was lopsided and had a dull green colour. Also, Nigel was a whiney little bitch. Look at me, I'm vibrant, thicc, evenly spread and my confident personality doesn't hurt either. Me: Wow, so it all just comes down to looks? Shamrock: Yeah, mostly. We also had to write a paragraph on why we deserved to be picked. Mine was pretty good:

Hello, top of the morning to you! I would like to be presented to President Trump because I have always wanted to travel overseas. It would be an honour to get to meet the President of the United States, regardless of his stupidity. Perhaps I can knock some sense into him or at the very least, convince Melania to impeach the prick. Also, I have intelligence that proves that this entire shamrock growing business is involved in illegal activity and I will not hesitate to leak it to the press if I am not successful in my bid to win this competition. Thank you!

Me: Ah, that explains it. Shamrock: Explains what? Me: Nothing. So, tell me about the journey to Washington... Shamrock: It was brilliant. I didn't even have a passport before we left, so I got fast-tracked through the application process due to my importance. I felt like such a celebrity. There wasn't any space for me on the Taoiseach's private jet, so I had to fly economy. Being wheeling through to the departure lounge was fun, lots of people wanted to get photographs with me. I hope the bullies back at the greenhouse see my face splashed across the front pages and feel sick. I'm the centre of attention now, everyone loves me. I (sham) rock! Me: Okay. What about the flight? Watch any good movies? Shamrock: Well, here's where it gets a bit infuriating, I was stowed away in the overhead luggage compartment for the whole flight. They said it was so that I didn't dry out too much, but I think it was because they knew every passenger would want an autograph since I'm now a worldwide superstar. I would've been fine with the mass interest, it was so cramped and boring up there. Unfortunately, hot air rises, so every fart went straight up to me. It was a nightmare, I couldn't even watch any movies. Some loudmouth American was seated right under me, so all I could hear was how her 'distant relatives were Irish' and she 'felt a deep spiritual connection to the place'. Spare me! Me: That sounds awful, I'm really sorry to hear that. I presume things got better when you landed? Shamrock: Yes, thankfully. I got to meet Taoiseach Leo Varadkar and then we made our way to the White House. I made a joke that they should call it the Green House (after my hometown) but nobody laughed because I am a plant and do not possess any human-like qualities, such as a voice or sense of humour. Me: Yeah, totally. Can you describe how the ceremony went down? Shamrock: After a police escort to the White House, Leo and I were separated while he dealt with the formalities such as brown nosing the President. I was placed in a holding room where I could gather my thoughts and spruce myself up a bit. The flight really took its toll on my pores! After a few hours, it was my time to shine. A member of Trump's security put his hands in places that will haunt me forever, allegedly to ensure that I wasn't harbouring anything prohibited. Aside from my hatred for POTUS and everything that he stands for, I was deemed good to go. Then, Leo picked me up and passed me over to Trump. Again, I was handled in quite an aggressive manner, then set aside. Me: That's it? Shamrock: Yep. I traveled eight hours to be passed from one set of hands to another. Me: Wow. Sounds a bit unfulfilling? Shamrock: Not really. Me: Why's that? Shamrock: Well, when I was in the holding room, I sprayed myself with some pesticide. Me: Okay? Shamrock: Wow, you really are slow. When Trump picked me up, he got some pesticide on his hands. You know what that means? Me: He needs to wash his hands thoroughly with some warm soapy water? Shamrock: No. The next time he goes to the bathroom, he's going to feel a slight stinging sensation on his winky, all thanks to me. Me: Amazing. That's brilliant. Shamrock: Thank you. I am the hero that the world both wants and needs right now. You're welcome, America.