Make the Moon Great Again
Scene: A glitzy press conference at the newly renamed “Trump Space Force Command Centre,” decorated with gaudy gold moon models and banners that read “Mission: Make the Moon Great Again!” Trump, in a sparkly Space Force jumpsuit, steps up to the podium with a confident smirk. Elon Musk stands nearby, nodding eagerly.
Trump:
“Folks, it’s time we talk about the Moon. You know, the Moon used to be great. A beautiful place. But then NASA got there, and what did they do? Nothing! A couple of flags, some dusty footprints, and a golf ball. Pathetic! Just pathetic! The Moon is a prime piece of real estate, and no one’s doing anything with it. Well, that changes now.”
The crowd erupts into confused murmurs. Elon Musk claps enthusiastically, holding a stack of blueprints labelled “Trump Lunar Towers.”
Trump:
“Today, I’m announcing the most ambitious plan in history: Operation Lunar Luxury. We’re going to Make the Moon Great Again, folks. It’s going to be the best Moon—tremendous, tremendous Moon. We’re talking Trump hotels, Trump casinos, Trump golf courses. No one builds on a celestial body like I do.”
Journalist 1:
(frowning)
“Mr President, isn’t the Moon supposed to remain a shared scientific and cultural resource? There are international treaties—”
Trump:
(interrupting)
“Treaties? Please. Treaties are for losers. Did the Moon sign a treaty? I don’t think so. The Moon wants this, okay? It’s been waiting for someone like me. It’s tired of being boring, folks. Dust and craters? Come on! We’re going to pave those craters with gold. Imagine this: Trump Crater Casino and Resort. People will come from Earth, Mars, maybe even other galaxies. It’s going to be huge.”
Elon Musk:
(grinning)
“Mr President, I’ve already started designing lunar Teslas for the Moon highways. Silent, efficient, and they’ll run on moonlight.”
Trump:
(pointing at Elon)
“See? This guy gets it. Moonlight-powered Teslas—brilliant. And get this, folks: we’re going to bring in Trump Moon Trees. They’ll grow in zero gravity, and they’ll be big, beautiful, golden. The best oxygen on the Moon, and I’ll bottle it and sell it as Trump Air. People will love it.”
Journalist 2:
(skeptically)
“Mr President, how exactly do you plan to fund this project?”
Trump:
(leaning into the mic)
“Easy. We’re going to make the Moon pay for it. It’s got untapped resources—helium-3, lunar minerals, maybe even cheese. The Moon has been freeloading off Earth’s gravity for billions of years. Time to pull its weight. And if that doesn’t work, we’ll charge Mars. Mars owes us big time for all that exploration nonsense.”
Elon Musk pulls out a model of a lunar colony with a giant Trump Tower at its centre, complete with a neon sign that says “Lunar Luxury.” The crowd stares in stunned silence.
Trump:
“And let’s talk branding. The Moon? Great name, but we can do better. From now on, it’s Trump Moon. I mean, why stop at just one? We’ve got other moons out there—Jupiter’s got a ton. Io? Ganymede? Awful names. I’m renaming them Trumpio and Trumpmede. All the moons belong to us now.”
Environmentalist:
(shouting from the back)
“But Mr President, this is lunacy!”
Trump:
(smiling smugly)
“Exactly. Lunacy. That’s the whole point. The Moon is a gold mine, literally and figuratively. And folks, I promise you: when I’m done, the Moon will be so great, you’ll look up at night and say, ‘Wow, I’ve never seen a Moon like that before.’ Bright, gold, and with a giant Trump logo visible from Earth. That’s how you Make the Moon Great Again.”
The crowd bursts into a mix of applause and bewildered laughter. Elon Musk holds up a prototype of a gold-plated lunar rover with a “Trump 2024” sticker on the side. The Moon glimmers innocently in the night sky, utterly oblivious to its imminent gaudy transformation.
