c.2024 Rod Ice
All rights reserved
(4-24)
Friday morning at Mar-a-Lago was sunny and pleasantly cool for Florida. Groundskeepers were busy outside, preparing the greenery and floral gardens for their seasonal grandeur. Around the main hall, members of the staff were busy. As breakfast was being served, Donald Trump and his wife appeared, to a round of polite applause from guests, who all jumped to their feet. The former president had decided to wear a smoking jacket, and carried a copy of the Palm Beach Post, a local newspaper. Melania was radiant as ever, with the polish and grace of someone who had worked in the modeling world for many years.
POTUS 45 spoke with the firmness of a chief executive on duty.
“Good morning, it really is a good morning, frankly! What a great day this is to live in America! A huuuuge day! A great day really, greater now because I bought this property, believe me. Greater because I made it great again! Please be seated!”
As they sat down at the head of their table, someone who was unfamiliar offered his own greeting in response. A slightly-built man, in a dark sweater and checkered pants. A pair of half-frame, reading glasses gave him the look of a librarian.
“Good day to you, sir! I am Hayton Rawlings III, an archivist with the Royals & Nobles Association Registry, Buckeye Regals Division. Maybe you’ve heard that voters in my state have petitioned for a change in the Ohio constitution, to permit a ceremonial monarchy?”
Trump turned to Kayleigh McEnany, his former White House Press Secretary, with a look of mild confusion. He yawned quietly and unfolded his newsprint on a bare section of the grand furnishing.
“It’s early right now, very early. I haven’t even had my Diet Coke or McDonald’s breakfast yet! I love their breakfast platter, with lots of syrup on my pancakes. Lots and lots of syrup. Is this guy on the guest list? Does he like a McDonald’s breakfast?”
Kayleigh had the bright expression of a squirrel that had nibbled cocaine.
“Mr. President, I apologize! Our guest should have been introduced when you first entered this room. My bad, sir!”
Rawlings shrugged with embarrassment. He had begun to sweat from stress pulsing through his body.
“Ahem! To repeat myself, I am an archivist with the Royals & Nobles Registry...”
The erstwhile commander-in-chief seemed to have lost his train of thought.
“Was this your idea, Melania? Is there a royal connection in the Knavs family? I think we are American royalty, very royal. More royal than most, some would say. Very, very royal...”
His spouse did not seem to understand the question. She picked at a sliced grapefruit without much of an appetite.
“I didn’t know this fellow was here. But, thank you for joining us, Mr. Hayton! Welcome to our home!”
Trump turned to his one-time aide and frowned, deliberately.
“I want to have my McDonald’s breakfast, and not hear about investigations or impeachments or indictments. It’s early, Kayleigh! Too, too early. Earlier than I got up yesterday. Very early...”
Their unannounced guest made a third attempt to clarify the reason for his presence.
“Sir, I am here with a bundle of signatures from Ohio residents. People who are your supporters at every level. They feel that battling over election issues is a waste of time. Their desire is to give you a more permanent position in the state where they reside. Will you look at these documents, please?”
The wonky figure opened a leather satchel that was jammed with paperwork. There were so many forms, with so many handwritten endorsements, that the mass soon took up all of his space at the breakfast table.
Their presidential benefactor shook his head with a puzzled fit of pique.
“What signatures? Why signatures? Why, I have to ask? Why did you bring all these signatures to have a McDonald’s breakfast with me, in Florida? Is that something new happening on Tik Tok?”
Rawlings smiled as if the comment had amused him in some way.
“This petition is for you to take the throne in Columbus, sir. Instead of choosing you at the ballot box, they want to give you a crown. You would be their king... the King of Ohio!”
Melania was wide-eyed like a child on Christmas morning.
“DONALD! LISTEN TO THIS MAN! LISTEN TO HIM!”
Kayleigh fretted with a plate of poached eggs. She wasn’t really hungry.
“Mr. President! Think of that, it would drive the Democrats crazy! Fox News would probably carry your coronation as a live stream! Their ratings would really soar!”
The royals archivist patted his pile of petition forms.
“There are thousands of signatures here, I have confirmed them all against voter rolls for the state. It’s amazing to think how many people in Ohio would prefer you to their current elected officials, sir. Truly amazing!”
Trump flushed with the proud look of a military general, after a victory in battle.
“KING OF OHIO? SOME HAVE SAID I AM A KING, A MAGA KING. THAT’S HUGE I THINK, FRANKLY. QUITE HUGE. BUT KING OF OHIO? HOW MANY VOTES WOULD THAT GET ME IN THE ELECTORAL COLLEGE?”
Rawlings chuckled to himself before trying to explain.
“Sir, it wouldn’t matter. Votes wouldn’t matter. If you are king, then you could hold that title for life...”
Kayleigh bounced on her chair like a cheerleader going through a warm-up routine.
“For life, Mr. President! King of Ohio, for life!”
Melania pushed her grapefruit aside and turned to her husband.
“Donald, I think you should consider moving the family to Columbus! Umm... have you ever been to that Midwestern city before?”
The business tycoon and one-term American potentate put a finger to his temple. Orange bronzer glowed from his face.
“I’ve been lots of places, really. Lots and lots of places. Places all over the world, believe me. I know places. I know a lot about places, building places, managing places. I know a lot, some would say I know more than a lot!”
Their guest with the leather satchel nodded and closed up his oversized case.
“I’ll leave this with you, Mr. Trump. Ponder it for a while, if you wish. Call me about any questions, my card is included with these documents. And thank you for sharing your breakfast today!”
The former head-of-state stabbed a sausage link with his fork. His hashbrown patties were already cold.
“I’ve been a CEO, I’ve been a president, I’ve been lots of things, all over the world. But now, I can be a king. A real king, with a crown of my own! And a golden throne!”
Kayleigh had tears in her eyes. Her perky nose wrinkled and twitched.
“Yes you can, sir! You can be the King of Ohio!”
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