Dwain Northey (Gen X)

Donald Trump—America’s reigning Master of Delusion, self-certified Emperor of Everything, and part-time interior designer for the Versailles Cosplay Society—has once again stepped forward to assure his loyal disciples that he is deeply, profoundly, cosmically concerned about affordability. Yes, affordability. For you. For America. For the little people he wouldn’t share a golf cart with unless they were carrying his Diet Coke.

And what better way to show your commitment to affordability than by using donor funds—you know, money people thought they were giving to “save democracy” or “stop the deep state” or whatever this week’s merch slogan is—to build yourself a golden ballroom that would make King Midas say, “Tone it down, Don.”

But wait—don’t worry, he’s not stopping there. The Oval Office, a room historically defined by dignity, restraint, and solemnity, is now apparently being transformed into a Versailles theme room, complete with enough gold (real or spray-painted; does it matter?) to blind an unsuspecting tourist wandering in thinking they were at the White House and not an all-inclusive resort for narcissism.

Because nothing screams “I care about affordability” quite like decking out the nation’s most important office to look like a set rejected from Beauty and the Beast for being too aesthetically aggressive.

And then—oh, then—comes the pièce de résistance: the Affordability Award. Yes, the one he just created. The one that, shockingly, ranks affordability as the number one priority of his self-declared authoritarian to-do list. Never mind that the award appears to have been invented sometime between his morning rage-tweet and his afternoon spray tan. Never mind that it’s less an award and more a participation trophy he’s giving himself for pretending to care.

No, what matters is that The Great Affordability Defender is here, standing valiantly atop a pile of gold-leaf furniture and unfulfilled promises, declaring that he alone can fix it.

The minions swoon. The crowd cheers. The ballroom glitters. And affordability? Well, it’ll get handled right after the chandeliers are hung, the gold trim is polished, and the invoices are quietly forwarded to “donors” who thought they were funding a movement, not a monarchy-in-training.

But that, of course, is the magic of Trumpian reality: as long as he says he cares about affordability, then obviously he does. And if anyone disagrees, well—they must just be jealous that they weren’t invited to the golden ballroom of democracy, where affordability is treasured almost as much as a gilded toilet seat.