In the shining marble halls of the Imperial Palace of Washingtonium, the air smelled of victory, gold leaf, and freshly signed decrees.
The Imperial Eagles circled overhead.
The Senate scribes sharpened their quills.
The statues of former rulers nervously watched from their pedestals.
Then Trumpius Caesar Maximus rose from his Golden Throne of Tremendousness.
"My fellow citizens," proclaimed the Emperor. "Today we appoint so many people that historians will need extra paper. Some say nobody has ever appointed more appointees to appointments than I have. Incredible people. The best people. Everybody says so."
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause.
Several senators reportedly applauded so hard that they required medical supervision.
And thus began what scholars are already calling The Great Appointment Stampede of 2026.
The Legion of Imperial Ambassadors
First came the ambassadors.
Not one ambassador.
Not five ambassadors.
Not even ten.
An entire diplomatic army.
Marcus Abreusius Floridianus received the Sacred Scroll of El Salvadoria.
Alexander Aldenius Virginianus was dispatched to Azerbaijania.
Christophorus Andersonius Wisconsinus was entrusted with the Kingdom of Cambodgia Magna.
Stanley Brownius Virginianus received Equatorial Guinea Magna.
Josephus Burkhalterius Georgiensis departed for Moldavia Nova.
Wilhelmus Graysonius Californicus embarked toward Indonesiana.
Douglas Holderius Floridianus claimed Bulgariana.
Paulus Kalmbachius Ohioensis took possession of Paraguayana.
Petrus McCoyus Carolinianus received Montenegro Maxima.
Nathaniel Morrisius Kentuckiensis sailed toward Colombia Superior.
Keith Noreikus Pennsylvanicus inherited Lithuanius.
Nickus Oberheidenius Texanus gained Egyptia.
Danielus Perezius Floridianus received Brazilius Magnificus.
Petrus Snyderius Virginianus secured Ecuadoria.
Laurentius Sochanus Illinoisensis marched toward Gambiana.
Henricus Woosterius Virginianus was entrusted with Kenyana.
Michael Youngius Utahensis took charge of Serbiana.
By sunset, cartographers were reportedly struggling to keep up with all the red arrows leaving the Imperial Capital.
The Double-Crowned Diplomat
Particular attention fell upon Johnny Figueroanus Tennesseensis.
Most citizens receive one prestigious title.
Some receive two titles during their careers.
Johnny received two titles before lunch.
He became Imperial Ambassador-at-Large for Global Health Security and also Supreme Coordinator for the Empire’s Global HIV Campaign.
Witnesses claim he briefly considered wearing two ceremonial capes at the same time.
Imperial fashion experts remain divided on the matter.
The Guardians of Bureaucratia
The Empire also required brave administrators willing to journey into the darkest corners of government bureaucracy.
Carlus Andersonius became Supreme Inspector of the Department of Foreign Affairs.
Ge Baius accepted high office within the Ministry of Health.
Donaldus Blomius Illinoisensis entered service overseeing Near Eastern Affairs.
Katherina Bowlesia Alabamensis became Keeper of Legislative Relations.
Historians compare the latter position to serving as lion tamer, volcano inspector, and referee simultaneously.
The Defenders of Law and Order
No empire can thrive without legal guardians.
Danielus Johnsonius, Christophorus Nassarius, Robertus Troesterius, and Stevenus Weinhoeftius were all elevated to important prosecutorial roles across the provinces.
Meanwhile, Philippus Lewisius Tertius and Sethus Reisterius Floridianus were appointed Imperial Marshals.
Their primary duties reportedly include maintaining order, attending meetings, and pretending that every six-hour conference absolutely could not have been an email.
The Commission of Eternal Commerce
Then came one of the day's greatest mysteries.
Petrus-Anthonius Pappasius was appointed to the Imperial Trade Commission.
Moments later, he was appointed again.
For several minutes, confused senators wondered whether he would occupy two chairs simultaneously.
Engineers were reportedly consulted.
No solution has yet been announced.
The One Who Did Not Make the Journey
Amid the celebration, one nomination quietly exited the stage.
Paulus Fergusonius Westvirginiensis was withdrawn from consideration for an Imperial Marshal position.
The official explanation involved procedures, paperwork, and administrative considerations.
The palace jesters insist he simply arrived one meeting late and lost his reserved parking spot.
A Tremendous Day for the Empire
As night fell over Washingtonium, exhausted scribes collapsed onto mountains of appointment scrolls.
The Imperial Seal glowed red-hot from continuous stamping.
Messenger pigeons filed formal workplace complaints.
The Treasury requested additional ink funding.
Yet Trumpius Caesar Maximus stood proudly atop the Palace Balcony.
Looking across the Empire, he smiled.
"Fantastic," he declared.
"The world now has more ambassadors, commissioners, inspectors, coordinators, prosecutors, and marshals than ever before. Nobody staffs an empire better than Trumpius Caesar. Nobody."
The crowd roared.
The eagles soared.
And somewhere, another diplomat quietly began packing for a country he had just learned existed that morning.
