**Alloy Girl Volume 126: The Wisdom of Owls**

In the serene, yet bizarrely transformed Oval Office, where the walls were now covered with feathers instead of portraits, the scene unfolded like a surreal dream. The new clone of Donald Trump, a perfect replica but with an owl-like demeanor, stood in front of Abigail Jamison Clark, who was now known to all as God after her divine revelation and subsequent marriage to Kai Madison Trump.

"Be wise, Trump! We're owls now," Abigail exclaimed, her voice echoing with an ethereal quality. The marriage had not only united two families but seemed to have blended their very essences. The Trump family, once known for their business acumen and political maneuvers, now adopted the owl as their symbol, embodying wisdom, strategy, and nocturnal vigilance.

Donald Trump, or rather, Donald Owl-Trump, looked at Abigail with eyes that were wise beyond their years, or at least beyond the years of the clone's creation. "Yes, yes, this is very wise," he hooted, though his voice retained that unmistakable Trump inflection.

To embrace this new identity, Donald had prepared a unique feast. In a corner of the room, where a traditional desk once stood, there was now a small, ornate dining table with a silver platter. Upon it lay several small, delicately prepared mice, garnished with leaves and berries, making the scene both grotesque and oddly sophisticated.

"This will help me. This will help me think like an owl," Donald said, adjusting his tie which now bore patterns of moons and stars. He took a bite of the mouse, chewing thoughtfully. "You see, Abigail, the owl sees what others miss in the darkness. This," he gestured at the meal, "this is not just sustenance. It's enlightenment."

Abigail watched, her expression a mix of amusement and divine approval. "Remember, Donald, wisdom isn't just about seeing in the dark. It's about understanding. Owls are silent hunters; they listen. They observe. They act with precision."

As Donald continued his meal, the room filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the soft hooting of a real owl outside the White House windows. Here in the heart of power, the transformation wasn't just physical. It was symbolic, a metamorphosis towards a new form of governance where wisdom was not just an attribute but a necessity.

"Indeed, my dear," Donald replied, his voice now softer, more reflective. "We must be the silent watchers of our nation, guiding it with wisdom, not just with might."

The scene closed with Donald looking out the window, his eyes glowing with newfound insight, contemplating the vast, dark expanse of the night sky, much like an owl would, planning the next move in the quiet, with the whole world unknowingly under his watch. The Trump family motto had indeed evolved; now it was not just about being wise, but about being the owl, silent, observant, and ever vigilant.