Donald Duck waddles nervously onto the stage, his iconic sailor suit looking slightly charred. Donald Trump, wearing a shimmering suit that reflects the flames around him, steps up with his usual bravado. The air is filled with anticipation and an electric tension crackles between them. "I didn't sign up for this kind of heat," Donald Duck quacks, his feathers ruffling.

Donald Trump grabs the microphone confidently. "Let's make Hell great again!" he announces, his voice booming across the arena. Donald Duck, armed with an electric guitar that crackles with blue sparks, responds with a defiant quack. The crowd roars in approval, eager for the showdown.

Donald Duck plucks the strings of his guitar, sending a cascade of wild, frenetic notes into the air. Trump, not to be outdone, steps forward with a speech that seems to warp reality itself. "We're going to win, win, win!" he declares, as the infernal audience erupts in a mix of cheers and jeers.

A mischievous demon, intrigued by the spectacle, fiddles with the sound system, amplifying Donald Duck's playful melodies over Trump's speeches. The audience, caught in the whirlwind of sound and fire, begins to sway more towards the duck's spontaneous charm. "Quack-tastic!" Donald Duck exclaims, realizing the tide may be turning in his favor.

Donald Trump, undeterred, doubles down, his charisma undiminished. Meanwhile, Donald Duck, driven by the rhythm of the infernal crowd, lets loose a final, triumphant riff. The arena shakes with applause and laughter, the spirits of the damned finding rare amusement in the spectacle.

Donald Duck and Donald Trump stand side by side, both acknowledging the other's efforts. "Not bad for a quacker," Trump admits, extending a hand. "Quack you very much," Donald Duck replies with a grin, as the two exit the stage, leaving behind the echoes of an unforgettable concert in Hell.