The Art of the 7am Trade Tariff

Oval Office, 7am

A groggy Donald Trump squints at a one-page intelligence brief entitled ‘Emerging Asymmetric Iranian Threats in the Persian Gulf.’

Waving the page in the air, he shouts to Natalie Harp in the hallway. "How does anyone expect me to read all of this?"

Natalia leaps up with the eagerness of a poodle about to receive a treat from its owner. “I'll be right there to read it for you, Mr President.”

Down the hall, Melania overhears the familiar sound of her husband's voice. She's maintained an open-door policy in the West Wing—except when Ricardo, the new Secret Service agent is protecting her.

Spotting Natalia’s perky posterior hop into the Oval Office, Melania sprints and sweeps in behind, arms laden with shopping bags. “Give us a minute, Natalie,” she purrs, then elegantly slams the Oval Office’s ordinary white door shut in Natalie’s honey blonde face. Platinum blonde is a far more elegant hair color.

Melania Knauss studies his eyes. They're pale blue, unwavering. The crows feet and smile lines don't distract from his piercing gaze. At 78, Donald still yearns for affirmation, yet is quick to pounce.

She knows this creature.

"Darling,” she coos, holding up a shoe box. “Jimmy Choo pumps were 40% off. I bought 7 pairs. Do you like them?"

Donald’s pupils narrow—not at the shoes, but at the number. “40 percent. Beautiful!” He grabs a shoe and peers at the label, "Jimmy Choo… Sounds Chinese."

“Korean,” Melania corrects. “The man is a genius.”

“I want you to wear the best shoes, only the best.”

Melania touches his shoulder fondly. With Natalia off Donald's mind, and the generals on their way up to discuss their little boy’s wars, she makes her exit, heading toward the sauna for her morning ritual.

After the meeting with the generals (a gaggle of incompetent yes men in uniforms), Donald makes his way to the South Lawn for golf driving practice.

Ethan Pratz, a journalist, inexplicably walks across the lawn at the very moment Donald tees up, and hoping to hear about America’s war plans with Iran, seizes the moment.

"Is there anything on your mind today, Mr. President?"

Trump, lining up the Capitol Dome with a one wood, says, "Chinese shoes. 40%. What a percentage!"

With a whack, the golf ball ascends into the air, then slices right toward the Lincoln Memorial.

Being a well trained journalist, Ethan segues as fast as Trump’s golf ball, “That is great news, Mr President. What about other Chinese products?"

Trump’s face brightens. "Other products? We are aiming for 40% on them too."

"Will the 40% be applied to any other countries?"

Trump smacks the next ball, a line drive straight toward Capitol where that traitor Mike Pence used to sit.

"All of them! 40%. I hope so.” He makes a mental note to ask the Federal Reserve to push for a worldwide fashion sale.

He gives the signal to special agent Smith to grab the journalist and drag him down to the briefing room. That’s where journalists are kept captive, so not to annoy his other visitors.

Economic Policy small group (19 members)

[Scott Bessent]: Establishing this tiger team to promote American exports.🐅

[JD Vance]: I’m out today burning books in Ohio. My input is that Japan needs to take in more U.S. beef. India already has 👊

[Pete Hegseth]: Does this necessitate a tatical strike? The Eagles are already airborne.🦅

[JD Vance]: Is that​​ a hotel california reference?🎸

[Tulsi Gabbard]: As the only one in this group who understands what both of you are saying, I recommend we shelf this discussion and have a weekend in Damascus instead.🕌

[Marco Rubio]: Your drinking buddy isn’t in Damascus. Now in Moscow.❄️

[Tulsi Gabbard]: Even better. Vodka! 🥛

[Joe Kent]: Sorry to interrupt, new information is coming out … A journalist is signaling POTUS wants 40% tariffs on everyone.

[JD Vance]: Which journalist?✍🏻

[Joe Kent]: Ethan Pratz at The Atlantic.

[Joe Kent]: Also, stop using emojis, you never know if the public will see this chat.

[JD Vance]: 👍

The Oval Office, Part Two

Scott Bessent approaches, “Mr President, I love your plan for global 40% tariffs, but–”

“Tariffs, tax, trade barriers, I can’t keep track. Take a look at these Jimmy Choos. Beautiful! Why can’t we make these in America?”

“You are exactly right, Mr President.”

Donald’s gaze looks back and forth across the line of Jimmy Choo shoes. “40%. I’m hoping for 40% on everything.”

Scott gulps. “I’ll discuss with the cabinet, Sir.”

“What’s a good word for our plan?”

“A tariff, sir.”

“Right, tariff. I want the best tariff. The biggest and best tariff in the world.”

"I suggest we consider meeting with our trade partners—"

Trump looks down at his mobile. He’s already drafting a tweet: Just met with my VERY smart team. We will have the best tariff. 40% on everything!

Scott slips out of the office feeling clammy, a chill runs down his spine for being part of this historic economic mistake.

Sitting at her desk in the hallway, Natalia chimes, “Have a great day!”

On the way downstairs, Scott passes Peter Navarro, who is on his way up carrying a stack of laminated charts printed in a very large font. With his slicked back silver hair and sly grin, Peter looks every bit a James Bond villain. How did an obscure UC-Irvine professor make it to the White House? Yes, YouTube. Scott Bennett decides to start his own channel. He needs to top Peter’s title “Death by China.” His busy mind swirls with possibilities.

An hour later, Talon Rusk marches into the Oval Office, his feet stomping in a discordant rhythm that matces his awkward gait. As he stands before Trump, his body is in a constant youthful state of motion, almost as if he is a 7-year-old boy waiting to be let out of the house.

“Respectfully, sir, this plan could crash the markets.”

“I love what’s your doing at DOGE, Talon.”

“What is the long term goal of this plan, Mr President?”

"Sometimes you gotta let the forest burn to stop the fire."

Wall Street billionaire Will Flackman walks in and joins them. He looks eager.

“You have my full support, Mr President,” Will says, not knowing yet what he is supporting, but the pawn move is always a good opening gambit.

“I know I do,” Donald quips.

That sounded dismissive but Will doesn't let it get to him. Having been ignored as a child, he yearns for public praise and adoration. The other billionaire fund managers at his synagogue prefer to stay low profile. Safer for business that way, they say.

“You are going to bomb Iran, right?”

“You betcha, the biggest bombs.”

Will pulls out his mobile and tweets: POTUS Trump’s tariff move is 4D chess. Playing at a higher level, genius as always!

Stepping out into the hallway, he places a call to his own hedge fund. “Sell S&P futures. Big size. Sell bonds, commodities, and the dollar too.”

Oval Office, 6 months later

One by one, Donald’s advisors and confidants arrive. William Flackman shows up looking joyous at having doubled his wealth cornering the market on American made sex toys, anticipating the impact of American trade barriers with China.

Donald watches the growing team with pride. All were deeply involved in putting the world’s great tariff plan into action.

Natalia Harp scurries over and whispers in his ear, “Zelensky is waiting outside AND he is wearing a suit.”

“Finally! Let him in.”

“I have an announcement to make,” Zelensky says with his now familiar accent. “First of all, Donald Trump is the greatest president of the greatest country in the world! Second, from today, all weapons donated to Ukraine will be exempt from Ukrainian import tax.”

“Thank you, little Z man. We love selling weapons to your country.”

Zelensky’s eyes flicker, wanting to correct the point about being sold weapons, and being little, but he quickly suppresses the urge. “We love buying American weapons, Mr President!”

Donald gives him a brief nod. Z man is four inches too short to be taken seriously. “Now, everyone, what are the initial figures for my fantastic tariff plan?”

Peter Navarro crunches his brow. “One bump in the road is that Americans have started buying $1,000 Japanese butt washing toilets, since we banned cheap Chinese toilet paper.”

Donald chuckles. “Smart people call it a bidet, professor. France once had the greatest bidet. My Project Warp Wipe will give Americans the best bidet ever. Next!.”

JD Vance speaks up. “Dollar Tree has rebranded as Two Dollar Tree. That’s a bad thing for the people in West Virginia.”

“Everyone knows you’re not from West Virginia, JD.”

Conspiracy theorist Felix Jones puffs his chest out. “The US hiked tariffs in the numerical sequence, 10%, 10%, 34%, 50%, and 21%. This is the same sequence used in ancient Aztec carvings. The government is sending us a coded message about the JFK assassination, and I'm going to get to the bottom of what it means.”

Donald blinks. “Those are mine. I decided those amazing numbers.”

“Are you sending me a message about JFK?”

“Maybe I am, Maybe I am not. You will find out soon.”

Felix grins, happy to receive a revelation to tell his millions of followers.

Next up, Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt reads out the daily headlines. “CNBC is reporting the President misheard his advisors in April."

"Never misheard. Smart people say I have sonar like a dolphin."

“And, coming into December, with the tax on Chinese toys, the New York Times is saying you are the Grinch who stole Christmas.”

“Losers! The New York Post says patriotic parents should buy their children a gun for Christmas. American made. Smith and Wesson are made in the beautiful state of Kentucky."

“And, Vogue is asking about messaging to female voters–”

“Melania will lead the campaign, Make America Sew Again!”

“Does Melania sew?”

“Of course she sews. Melania is a traditional woman. The best.”

With perfect timing, Melania walks in, wearing a stunning Dolce & Gabbana white pantsuit, underneath which a pair of bright pink Crocs sticks out like.a flamingo in a snowstorm.

Donald does a double take at her Crocs.

She catches his look. “After the tariffs have set in, and Shein and Temu have gone bankrupt, everything from China has become fashionable again,” she explains. Only a very skilled observer would detect the microscopic nod Scott Bennett gives her.

Donald looks down at the bright pink Crocs, Melania’s toes peeking out through the gaps. For the first time in decades, Donald feels something - regret. A regret that his beloved wife has to endure this downtrend in high fashion. Women have been wearing made in American jeans, blondes have stopped bleaching their hair. Air Force One has been sent on multiple times to Berlin to restock the White House with Schwarzkopf Igora Royal. Things have gone too far.

“Take those off, Melania. I will make Jimmy Choo great again.” Donald looks around the room, and catches everyone's attention. “My tariff plan was such a huge success, I am now cancelling it.”

Talon Musk, Will Flackman, Felix Jones, Scott Bessent, Peter Navarro and Natalia Harp, erupt in synchronized sycophancy, “I fully support your decision, Mr President.”

🏛️🏛️🏛️

This work is a satirical fiction inspired by real-world figures and events, crafted purely for entertainment and commentary—much like the exaggerated political sketches on *Saturday Night Live*. While it humorously critiques political dynamics through hyperbole and invented scenarios, it does not assert factual accuracy or represent the actual views, policies, or actions of any individuals or institutions mentioned. The story operates under fair use as a transformative parody, and readers should distinguish its playful exaggerations from reality, just as they would with late-night comedy. No endorsement—implied or otherwise—is made by real entities referenced, and any resemblance to actual events is coincidental (or, in today’s political climate, unavoidably absurd).