WASHINGTONIA, D.C. — Having already turned borders, bureaucracy, science, beautification, public safety, and probably the proper angle of imperial flagpoles into matters of personal imperial importance, Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Caesar has now identified the next existential threat to the American Empire:
Mosquitoes.
And ticks.
Tiny creatures. Terrible creatures. Possibly the most disrespectful creatures ever to challenge an emperor.
With one majestic stroke of the golden presidential pen, Trumpius Caesar has launched what future imperial historians may call the Bellum Culicidae et Ixodidae — the Great American War Against Things That Buzz, Bite, Crawl, and Sample the blood of citizens without first submitting the proper federal paperwork.
Washingtonia Becomes the Imperial Pest-Free Zone
The first battlefield will be Washingtonia Districtus Columbiae, capital of the Empire and apparently also a luxury resort for invasive mosquitoes.
The imperial objective is ambitious: dramatically reduce mosquito populations and drive down tick populations using safe, effective, non-chemical, technology-enabled methods.
This will not be a mere campaign involving citronella candles, rolled-up newspapers, and one irritated senator waving his arms at a barbecue.
No.
This is Trumpius.
The Empire is mobilizing.
Agriculturus Maximus, Interiorus Territorialis, Sanitas Humanorum, the mighty Agentura Protectionis Environmentalis, and the venerable Administratio Generalis Servitiorum shall all march together into battle.
In other words, the mosquito will no longer face one annoyed American.
It will face the federal government.
May Jupiter have mercy on it.
Imperial Bureaucracy Discovers the Puddle
The decree orders officials to identify and remediate mosquito and tick breeding grounds across federally controlled lands in Washingtonia.
Standing water shall be investigated.
Breeding grounds shall be disrupted.
Technology shall be deployed.
Common sense shall allegedly participate.
For Washington, this last component may represent the most experimental part of the entire initiative.
Commercial companies and cooperative partners may also join the operation, because nothing says imperial pest control quite like a public-private partnership designed to make mosquitoes reconsider their career choices.
Trumpius Caesar intends to show the world that America can develop cutting-edge technology capable of defeating an enemy whose principal military strategy consists of hiding behind the bedroom curtain until the light is turned off.
Gold Standard Science Meets the Tiny Enemy
Naturally, no Trumpius campaign would be complete without transforming a backyard nuisance into an epic chapter of American scientific supremacy.
The Agentura Environmentalis, together with agriculture and health authorities, must develop a regulatory framework for advanced mosquito and tick control technologies.
Research shall expand.
Competitions shall be announced.
Prizes shall be offered.
Scientists shall innovate.
Somewhere, presumably, an extremely nervous mosquito is already applying for Canadian citizenship.
The existing Lyma Morbus Moonshottum will also be expanded through research initiatives and competitions designed to prevent and treat diseases spread by ticks and mosquitoes.
After all, if America can send humans toward the heavens, surely it can eventually send a tick somewhere else.
The Tick Has Attacked the Steak
But then the story becomes truly serious.
Some tick bites can trigger alpha-gal syndrome, an allergy associated with red meat.
And thus the tick has crossed the final imperial red line.
It has threatened the steak.
At this moment, negotiations effectively ended.
A creature may bite.
It may crawl.
It may lurk in tall grass.
But interfering with the sacred relationship between an American citizen and a properly grilled piece of beef is, in the Trumpius worldview, suspiciously close to treason.
Therefore, imperial agriculture and health officials shall explore options for labeling foods and drugs containing significant amounts of alpha-galactose.
The tick, having begun its career as a tiny woodland parasite, may now indirectly influence federal food-labeling policy.
An astonishing rise through the bureaucracy.
Make Mosquitoes Afraid Again
The Washingtonia project is intended to become a model that could later be expanded across the Empire.
If successful, Americans may once again hike, camp, picnic, barbecue, fish, golf, sit on porches, and dramatically point toward sunsets without spending half the evening slapping themselves in the face.
The campaign therefore fits beautifully into the growing library of Trumpian imperial programs:
Make America Healthy Again.
Make America Beautiful Again.
Make D.C. Safe and Beautiful Again.
And now, unofficially:
Make Mosquitoes Afraid Again.
Trumpius Caesar has already created commissions, announced new scientific standards, launched biological security initiatives, and ordered Washingtonia polished into imperial magnificence.
Now the Emperor has descended to the final frontier of federal governance:
the insect level.
The Empire Strikes the Swarm
The imperial message could hardly be clearer.
Americans shall enjoy their parks.
Their lawns shall remain beautiful.
Their pets shall remain safe.
Their livestock shall remain healthy.
Their steaks shall remain edible.
And every mosquito entering federal airspace over Washingtonia should understand that it may soon find itself opposed by Cabinet secretaries, regulators, scientists, contractors, research programs, prize competitions, and an Executive Order personally signed by Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Caesar.
Ancient Rome had:
Veni, vidi, vici.
The modern Trumpian Empire now offers an updated version:
Veni, vidi, buzzed — and got federally regulated.
For ordinary rulers, killing a mosquito requires a flyswatter.
For Trumpius Caesar, it requires several departments, a regulatory framework, a national research initiative, scientific competitions, advanced technology, and approximately enough administrative machinery to conquer Gaul twice.
Thus begins the newest glorious campaign of the Empire.
Not against another nation.
Not against an army.
Not even against a political opponent.
But against the most cunning enemy of all:
the mosquito that buzzes directly beside your ear at 2:17 in the morning — and immediately disappears the moment you turn on the light.
