And so it came to pass in the glorious imperial year MMXXVI that Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus, Supreme Commander of Tax Cuts, Guardian of Overtime, Defender of the American Paycheck, and First Emperor of Things Described as Historic, returned once more to the legendary province of Ohious Buckeyus.
Ordinary presidents travel.
Trumpius arrives.
Ordinary politicians make appearances.
Trumpius descends upon a state like a golden weather phenomenon accompanied by flags, motorcades, statistics, and enough superlatives to overload a teleprompter.
The official occasion was the finals of the Patriot Games, celebrating 250 years of American independence by honoring the strength, determination, excellence, and competitive spirit of America's youth.
It was the perfect event for Trumpius.
Competition!
Patriotism!
Winning!
Young athletes trying to be Number One!
Basically, the entire Trumpian philosophy compressed into sporting events.
But the Imperial White Palace had a much greater message for the people of the Buckeye Province:
AMERICA FIRST MEANS OHIO FIRST!
At least while the Emperor was in Ohio.
This geographical detail would become important later.
The Great Trumpian Tax Miracle
The imperial scribes first unrolled the sacred parchment known as the Working Families Tax Cuts Acticus Magnificus.
Immediately, enormous numbers began marching across the marble floor.
Trumpius loves enormous numbers.
Small numbers are suspicious.
Medium-sized numbers are acceptable only when followed by a percentage sign.
But billions?
Beautiful.
According to the figures proclaimed by the imperial administration, more than 1.2 million Ohio workers claimed approximately $3.4 billion in No Tax on Overtime deductions.
This pleased Trumpius greatly.
The imperial principle was simple:
If an American works overtime, misses dinner, answers emails at 9:47 p.m., and begins wondering whether the office coffee machine is technically a family member, the tax collector should at least show some restraint.
Thus came the proclamation:
NO TAX ON OVERTIME!
Workers cheered.
Accountants reached for calculators.
Somewhere, a tax form quietly developed another appendix.
Then came the seniors.
Approximately 1.4 million Ohio seniors, according to the figures cited by the administration, benefited from the senior deduction.
This was declared another magnificent victory.
After all, these were Americans who remembered telephones attached to walls, televisions with three channels, and a time when automobiles did not require software updates.
Respect was clearly due.
And then appeared one of the most beautifully specific numbers in the entire imperial scroll:
Ohio's average tax refund had reached $3,308.
Not $3,300.
Not approximately $3,300.
$3,308.
That extra eight dollars gave the statistic an aura of unquestionable imperial precision.
Two Hundred Million Dollars Ride Into Rural Ohious
Next came the countryside.
The imperial treasury announced that Ohio had secured more than $200 million in first-year funding through the Rural Health Transformation Program.
Trumpius did not see this as merely healthcare funding.
No.
In the Trumpian imagination, it was practically a medical cavalry charge across rural Ohious, with doctors, ambulances, grant applications, and federal appropriations galloping heroically toward the horizon.
But the numbers grew larger still.
According to estimates cited by the White House, the Working Families Tax Cuts protected 208,000 Ohio jobs, preserved $37 billion in state GDP, and safeguarded $19 billion in wages.
Trumpius gazed upon the figures.
208,000 jobs.
$37 billion.
$19 billion.
This was no longer an economic report.
This was a Roman triumph parade produced in Microsoft Excel.
Pax Trumpiana Descends Upon Ohio
But an emperor cannot merely protect the gold.
He must also protect the people carrying it.
And so the imperial parchment moved to its next chapter:
LEX ET ORDO TRUMPIANA.
Law and Order.
The administration pointed to statewide homicides falling 16.1% last year.
In Columbusia, homicides reached a 16-year low in 2025 and continued declining into 2026.
In Cincinnatium, homicides fell by more than 6% in 2025, followed by another 19% decline during the first half of 2026 compared with the same period a year earlier.
Then came Clevelandia, bearing an entire cartload of statistics.
Homicides down.
Rapes down.
Auto theft down.
Robberies down.
Additional declines were reported in several categories during the first half of 2026.
Had imperial protocol permitted it, Trumpius might have personally placed a golden laurel wreath on every police cruiser in the state.
Unfortunately, this would have required an enormous federal procurement contract.
So the court settled for the traditional declaration:
LAW AND ORDER IS WORKING!
Within the Empire Trumpianum, “Law and Order” serves roughly the same function as “Ave Caesar” did in ancient Rome.
It fits almost everywhere.
The Great Caravan of Billions
Then the gates of the economic Colosseum swung open.
First came Electra Aeronautica, carrying an announced $850 million investment in Springfield and plans for 1,975 new jobs.
Aircraft!
Factories!
Workers!
Trumpius was delighted.
These were tangible things.
Things made of metal.
Things that could be photographed next to enormous American flags.
Economic poetry.
Next marched Weidmannus Helveticus, the Swiss paper manufacturer, with an announced $150 million investment in Middletown.
Paper!
A magnificent industry.
Because no matter how advanced civilization becomes, somewhere in government there will always be somebody demanding a printed document signed on page seven.
Then came Stellantus Automobilicus.
Its offering to the imperial economy: an announced $400 million investment in the Toledo Assembly Complex and more than 900 jobs.
Cars!
Factories!
More metal!
Trumpius could hardly ask for a more majestically industrial combination unless the automobiles were manufactured inside battleships.
But the procession continued.
Prattius Packagingus Maximus arrived carrying plans for a $5 billion U.S. investment, with significant expansion aimed at Ohio.
Five billion dollars for packaging!
Perfect.
Because if America is going to become magnificently enormous again, somebody will eventually need a box large enough to ship all the greatness.
And then the drums stopped.
The gates opened.
Into the arena came Damacus Data-Centerius.
The number attached to its announced U.S. investment:
$20 BILLION.
For a brief moment, even Trumpius may have been silent.
Not because he lacked words.
He was simply calculating how many times the adjective “historic” could legally be attached to twenty billion dollars.
Ohio was positioned to receive projects.
The humble Buckeye State was becoming Buckeyus Billionarius Maximus.
Ten Gigawatts for the Imperial Machine
There was, however, a problem.
Factories require electricity.
Data centers require lots of electricity.
Enormous data centers require the sort of electricity consumption that makes engineers stare thoughtfully into the distance.
Enter SoftBankus Magnus and SB Energicus.
The Trump administration announced a public-private partnership designed to build 10 gigawatts of new power generation in southern Ohio.
Ten gigawatts!
Enough imperial energy to power an astonishing amount of computing, manufacturing, air conditioning, and probably several palaces containing unnecessarily large chandeliers.
The arrangement was presented with another politically useful promise: corporations supporting the growth of data centers — rather than ordinary Ohio families — would bear the associated costs.
SB Energy was also providing $40 million in community benefits.
Servers receive power.
Communities receive millions.
Engineers receive spreadsheets.
Everybody receives something.
Thus works the modern Empire Trumpianum.
America First Means Ohio First — Today
Finally, Trumpius Caesar stood metaphorically upon the great marble balcony of Ohious and surveyed the imperial inventory.
Tax cuts!
Bigger refunds!
Crime reductions!
Aircraft!
Automobiles!
Paper!
Packaging!
Data centers!
Gigawatts!
Jobs!
And, naturally, billions.
So many billions that the ordinary citizen could eventually stop counting zeros and simply applaud whenever another one marched past.
The Republican senators raised their ceremonial documents.
The trumpets sounded.
The Buckeyes trembled.
And Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus delivered the great mathematical doctrine of the day:
AMERICA FIRST MEANS OHIO FIRST!
Which raises one small constitutional-geographical question.
What happens when Trumpius travels to Texas?
Presumably:
AMERICA FIRST MEANS TEXAS FIRST!
Florida?
FLORIDA FIRST!
Pennsylvania?
Obviously:
PENNSYLVANIA FIRST!
This reveals the true genius of Trumpian political physics.
Every American state can simultaneously be Number One — provided Trumpius is currently standing inside it.
It is the Quantum Theory of America First.
Ohio is first.
Texas is first.
Florida is first.
Everybody is first.
Except whoever Trumpius is criticizing that afternoon.
And so concluded the magnificent Buckeye Triumph of MMXXVI.
The young athletes competed.
The factories prepared.
The investors counted billions.
The power plants entered the plans.
The imperial scribes recorded the numbers.
And Trumpius Caesar continued onward through his enormous republic-turned-metaphorical-empire, forever searching for the next state to which he could majestically proclaim:
“AMERICA FIRST MEANS YOU FIRST!”
Because in the Empire Trumpianum, there is apparently enough “First” for everyone.
At least until the next campaign rally.
