Episode 18: The Emergency Call and the Unchanging Tie

The morning after the triumphant Victory Mist launch, the Trump Tower Transitionarium buzzed with a peculiar mix of confidence and underlying tension.

The hallways were filled with staffers clutching yesterday’s brochures, interns whispering about Martian real estate, and an atmosphere that one could only describe as “expectant bewilderment.”

Part 1: The Presidential Phone Call

Trump, seated in the Golden Briefing Atrium and still basking in the afterglow of his legal “exonerations,” decided it was time for international outreach. Today’s target: the President of South Korea.

“Get him on the phone,” Trump demanded, adjusting a large headset that made him look like a golf commentator. Within minutes, the call was connected, with top aides and a suspiciously silent Eric Trump gathered around, eavesdropping.

“Mr. President,” Trump began, voice smooth as polished marble, “I hear you’ve been dealing with some unrest, a little chaos, right? Listen, take my advice: declare a state of emergency. Take back full control. It’s what strong leaders do.”

A pause.

On the other end, the South Korean president’s voice was measured—polite, but clearly startled. Trump waved off any concerns, insisting that “nothing can possibly go wrong.” He cited his own upcoming plans to regain “full control” as if discussing a routine hair appointment.

Before anyone could protest, Trump offered, “Trust me, I’m an expert at this. The media? Losers. The critics? Irrelevant. You do what you must. History will thank you.”

The call ended with an awkward exchange of pleasantries, leaving staffers exchanging concerned glances.

Jared Kushner scribbled a note to himself: “Remind boss that foreign coups are frowned upon.”

Part 2: All About the Ties

After the call, Trump decided the matter was closed. International intrigue? Done. Advice dispensed, fearlessly and fabulously. Now it was time for the real challenge of the day: choosing a tie.

The Tie Selection Room, a space most thought was a myth, was revealed behind a secret panel in the Deciderium. Racks stretched from floor to ceiling, boasting every shade, pattern, and fabric known to man—and a few known only to the Trump lineage. Ties in gold lamé, ties in tartan, ties embroidered with miniature Trump Towers.

Trump paced the aisles, occasionally holding a tie up to the mirror and squinting critically. Kellyanne hovered nearby, offering suggestions. Jared tried to slip in a muted navy tie (“To show global seriousness,” he said), but Trump scoffed.

“Seriousness? Look at yesterday—I beat Jack Smith’s nonsense, I’m talking to world leaders about emergency powers, I’m unstoppable. Seriousness is implied.”

After hours of painstaking consideration, Trump finally settled on the one choice everyone expected: the long red tie. Again. He nodded, satisfied, as if confirming an age-old truth: some traditions are too perfect to improve.

Part 3: The Afterglow and the Undercurrent

As afternoon drifted into evening, staffers pretended not to notice the implications of Trump’s advice to South Korea. Rudy Giuliani, fresh from the Aesthetic Crisis Suite, sipped a martini and muttered about world domination. Melania, arms folded, watched the unfolding scene with her usual inscrutable grace.

In the corner, Eric scrolled through his phone, sighing. Perhaps he was checking South Korean news feeds, or maybe just looking up new tie knots on YouTube. Meanwhile, Jared tapped a nervous rhythm on the lacquered table, wondering which fires he’d have to put out next.

But Trump himself was unfazed. He stood before a gilded mirror, admiring the length and hue of his chosen tie. History, coups, and Martian presidencies were all swirling in some distant future. For now, the world would just have to admire the consistency of his fashion and the audacity of his advice.

Yours in questionable counsel and impeccable accessorizing,
Authoritarian Advisor Whisperer and Tie Selection Curator