Inside the White Palace’s gilded Seashell Chamber, Trumpius Caesar—Conqueror of Paperwork and Supreme Protector of Breaded Greatness—unveiled his latest imperial doctrine: America First now extended underwater.
For far too long, American fish had wandered the oceans without strong leadership. Some apparently had no idea they belonged to the greatest seafood population in the history of civilization.
That disgrace ended today. Under the emperor’s new seafood strategy, ordinary cod would finally become strategically significant victory cod.
“Our fish are incredible,” His Imperial Fishness announced in this fictional palace scene. “Big, powerful fish. They come up to me with tears in their eyes. Very difficult to verify underwater, but everybody knows.”
Every Empire Needs a Fish Website
The centerpiece of this maritime awakening was Seafood.gov, a central destination where fishermen and consumers could learn about federal assistance and the advantages of American seafood.
At last, the palace had identified what coastal communities truly needed: a website explaining how magnificently the emperor was already helping them.
Court officials hailed the portal as a historic breakthrough. An aging lobsterman from the province of Mainius asked whether it could fix his refrigeration system.
An imperial aide showed him where to download a label.
Give That Lobster Some Credentials
The Imperial Food and Drug Administration proposed a voluntary “U.S. Caught Seafood” label, allowing shoppers to identify seafood caught or harvested by American fishermen.
The lobster received no vote in the matter. It had already expressed serious reservations about joining the supply chain.
Nevertheless, Trumpius demanded a ceremonial unveiling. A lobster was presented on a velvet cushion, its raised claws suggesting either patriotic enthusiasm or an attempt to remove the commerce secretary’s nose.
Foreign shrimp immediately attracted suspicion. They were too cheap, suspiciously subsidized, and had never publicly thanked the emperor.
One imported squid was summoned for questioning. Eight arms and not a single properly completed certification form: a textbook case of unfair competition.
A Golden Ocean of Loan Guarantees
Through the Department of Agriculture, Chancellor Agrarius made billions in loan guarantees available to modernize meat and seafood processing.
The treasury’s chief accountant attempted to explain that guaranteeing a loan was different from handing someone a bag of money.
Trumpius listened attentively until the word “billions,” then began conducting an imaginary victory parade.
Processing communities in Alaskaria were promised new opportunities. Coastal businesses could pursue better facilities, expanded cold storage, and modern equipment.
That these improvements required sound investments, construction work, and actual customers struck the palace as unnecessary detail. The announcement had already been completed. Surely the economy could handle the remaining administrative chores.
Throw the Red Tape Overboard
The emperor also celebrated expanded commercial fishing access, reopened waters, and regulatory changes.
Admiral NOAAnus received instructions to reduce the paperwork catch while increasing the seafood catch.
Marine conservation remained an imperial priority, provided it could be conducted somewhere nobody wanted to fish.
Court historians reported historic victories, historic relief, and a historic shortage of adjectives that meant anything anymore.
Even the seagulls had started sounding like deputy press secretaries.
To conclude the ceremony, Trumpius cast a golden net into the harbor.
It came back empty.
The emperor examined it, nodded gravely, and announced that the fish were still trapped in the previous administration’s permitting process.
He ordered the catch report released immediately.
The net contained nothing. The press release was stuffed to the gills.
