It was the grand day at the Senatus Mundi, that venerable temple of international diplomacy where delegations from across the planet normally gather to discuss peace, security, cooperation, and other matters of secondary importance.
Then the bronze doors opened.
Trumpets sounded.
Marble trembled.
And into the chamber marched Imperator Donaldus Trumpius Maximus Augustus Primus, Vanquisher of Bureaucracy, Tamer of Alliances, Terror of International Paperwork, and — according to the official palace chronicles — successful supreme commander of nearly everything currently visible on a world map.
Trumpius approached the podium.
The World Senate held its breath.
Not necessarily from awe.
Some delegates probably just wanted to know which international agreement would fail to survive the speech.
The World Senate Is Reduced to Imperial Size
The Officium Album Imperiale proudly announced that Trumpius had slashed United Nations bureaucracy and dramatically reduced American financial commitments.
For in the Trumpian Empire, administrative philosophy is wonderfully simple:
If Donaldus did not personally sign it, it is probably too complicated.
Peacekeeping missions?
Review them.
Contributions?
Cut them.
International programs?
Review them, cut them, and then review whether they can be abolished entirely.
Thus, according to the imperial court, the United Nations was finally reminded of its original purpose:
Protect peace.
Resolve crises.
And preferably avoid anything likely to cause displeasure inside the Palatium Album.
Tribunal Internationalis Meets the Imperial Tax Collector
Next came the International Criminal Court.
Within the Trumpian Empire, however, it shall henceforth be known as:
Tribunal Maximum Alienum Quae Nos Non Rogavit.
Rough translation:
The International Court That Forgot to Ask Donaldus First.
Sanctions were imposed. Measures were announced. American sovereignty was defended with the determination of a Roman legionnaire discovering that somebody had built a road through his province without a permit.
The imperial principle remains clear:
International rules are extremely important.
Especially for other people.
Exodus Maximus From International Clubs
Then came the long scroll of international organizations deemed insufficiently useful to American interests.
Trumpius withdrew, resigned, defunded, and departed with imperial efficiency.
The palace review process may have sounded something like this:
“Does this organization directly serve us?”
“Not immediately, Caesar.”
“OUT!”
“What about this one?”
“It concerns climate policy.”
“DOUBLE OUT!”
“And this one?”
“Migration.”
“LOCK THE GATES!”
Within minutes, international diplomacy became much easier to understand.
At least from the palace balcony.
Carbonium Tributum? Not Under Caesar
Climate policy soon entered the arena.
According to the palace account, international actors had attempted to impose what Trumpius world historians will inevitably remember as:
The Treacherous Carbonium Tributum of the Progressive Climate Legions.
Trumpius metaphorically raised the golden sword of American sovereignty and delivered the essential imperial message:
No senator, commissioner, climate envoy, shipping bureau, or suspiciously international committee shall levy tribute upon American commerce while Donaldus Trumpius still possesses an executive order and a working pen.
The World Senate absorbed the message.
The pen industry reportedly remained optimistic.
Mare Nostrum Americanum
Then the imperial gaze moved toward the Western Hemisphere.
Earlier governments called it the Western Hemisphere.
The Trumpian court prefers:
Mare Nostrum Americanum Plus Continents.
Cartels became hostile legions.
Military campaigns received heroic names.
New security alliances emerged.
Venezuela moved toward the center of imperial attention.
Panama was praised for distancing itself from Chinese influence.
And the entire hemisphere began to resemble a rather large front yard belonging to the White House.
The imperial doctrine could be summarized as follows:
All nations are sovereign — but some are geographically inconveniently close to us.
Venezuela and the Sacred Oil
The palace chronicles became especially enthusiastic whenever Venezuelan oil reserves entered the story.
Oil has an almost magical quality in the Trumpian Empire.
It transforms complicated geopolitical questions into:
“Very interesting economic opportunity.”
Other diplomats may speak about history, democratic institutions, regional stability, and long-term development.
The imperial treasurer sees barrels.
Many barrels.
So many barrels that one expects some court official to suggest renaming Venezuela:
Petroleum Maximus.
NATO Becomes Foederatio Tributorum Atlanticorum
Naturally, the Atlantic alliance also received its imperial rebranding.
Welcome to:
Foederatio Tributorum Atlanticorum.
The Atlantic Federation of Tribute.
Its members remain perfectly welcome to defend one another.
They are simply expected to remember several basic rules:
Spend more.
Buy more.
And whenever possible, buy American.
The palace celebrated increased defense spending and greater investment in U.S. defense industries as proof of imperial alliance management.
Or, as a Roman quaestor might have put it:
“Friendship is good.
Purchase orders are better.”
Eight Wars, One Emperor, No Small Claims
Then came the longest triumph scroll.
According to the palace version of events, Trumpius had ended wars, secured hostage releases, weakened Iran, reshaped the Middle East, and pushed the world toward historic stability.
An ordinary president might say:
“Our diplomacy has produced meaningful progress.”
Trumpius effectively says:
“I fixed the planet.”
The imperial historians may soon require additional marble storage.
When every decision becomes historic, even Rome eventually runs out of walls.
Greenlandia Septentrionalis
Next appeared the icy northern prize:
Greenlandia Septentrionalis.
The palace celebrated arrangements involving Denmark and Greenland as another example of American strategic interests being permanently secured.
And naturally, the imperial version includes the sweetest phrase known to any court economist:
At no cost to the American taxpayer.
This is the highest form of Trumpian alchemy:
More influence.
More security.
More Arctic.
Invoice:
Zero.
If this model proves successful, the empire may wish to investigate other territories.
The Moon has so far declined to comment.
The Parade of Superlatives
At last, the Officium Album Imperiale ordered the trumpets to sound one final time.
Factories were returning.
Shipyards were expanding.
Industries were coming home.
Investments were pouring in.
Jobs were appearing.
America was becoming safer.
Richer.
Stronger.
Greater.
More victorious.
And possibly weather-resistant.
Trumpius stood before the World Senate like a Caesar unveiling his own triumphal arch — except where Rome once carved SPQR, this one would presumably read:
DJT.
The message was unmistakable.
Other leaders conduct foreign policy.
Trumpius conducts planetary management.
Other leaders negotiate agreements.
Trumpius issues imperial reality.
Other presidents address the United Nations.
Trumpius appears before it to explain how successful the world has become since he arrived.
And as the delegates quietly reorganized their notes, somewhere inside the Palatium Album an imperial chronicler was already preparing the next proclamation:
“Imperator Trumpius Reorganizes Global Order — Planet to Remain Open Until Further Notice.”
