In the grand marble halls of the Imperium Americanum, beneath banners so golden they practically filed their own tax returns, Emperor Donaldus Magnus—known across the lands as Trumpius Caesar—rose to deliver yet another historic proclamation.

With a gesture so commanding it briefly paused the stock market (unconfirmed, but widely believed), Trumpius Caesar unveiled his latest decree: De Gasus Maximus et Liquefactus Potentia—a plan so vast, so powerful, so undeniably “tremendous,” that even the most skeptical senators adjusted their togas in cautious admiration.

“Listen closely,” proclaimed Trumpius, his voice echoing like a luxury echo package upgrade. “For too long, our glorious Empire has relied on foreign energy—unstable, unpredictable, frankly… very low energy.” Gasps filled the chamber. Somewhere, a scroll dropped dramatically.

He reminded all present of his legendary 2025 declaration—the Great Energy Emergency—when he alone recognized that hostile foreign forces were playing energy markets like a cheap fiddle. “Not a Stradivarius,” he clarified, “believe me.”

But now, the solution: pipelines stretching across the land like veins of power, storage facilities bigger than some small nations, and LNG terminals so advanced they practically liquefy ambition itself.

“This,” Trumpius declared, pointing to an enormous map that may or may not have included his name on several pipelines, “is not just infrastructure. It is DEFENSE. It is SECURITY. It is… frankly, beautiful.”

The court of advisors, including the ever-loyal Energius Rex, nodded vigorously—some out of agreement, others out of survival instinct.

According to the decree, the private sector alone could never achieve such greatness. “Too slow. Too complicated. Too many permits,” Trumpius said, shaking his head. “Permits—very nasty things.”

Thus, in an act of unmatched generosity (and strategic brilliance, as repeatedly noted by himself), Trumpius Caesar authorized sweeping financial support: purchases, commitments, funding—whatever it takes to ensure the Empire’s gas supremacy.

“Because nobody does cost-effective like me,” he added. “Nobody.”

Then came the moment historians would later call The Great Waiver. With a flick of his pen—possibly gold, definitely expensive—Trumpius Caesar waived layers of bureaucratic requirements.

“Rules are fantastic,” he said, pausing for effect, “when they help. Otherwise? Gone. Totally gone.”

Thunderous applause erupted. Or at least, something resembling applause.

With this decree, the expansion of natural gas and LNG capacity became a cornerstone of imperial strategy—fueling not only the Empire itself but also its allies, who would now gaze upon its energy might with admiration and perhaps a touch of envy.

As Trumpius Caesar exited the hall, robes flowing, chin high, and approval ratings self-declared as “record-breaking,” one thing was certain:

The age of Gasus Maximus had begun.