He’s the king of turd mountain. A dollop of orange on a shit sundae trying to pass himself off as the bigliest, bestest, tastiest dessert ever. His followers, transfixed by his lies, gobble up the slop he pushes like it’s the best they’ve ever had.
He sits on his throne like Jabba the Hutt babbling. Proclaiming that he has made everything great again. As his kingdom crumbles his henchman prop him up and shout his praises. His people fall down at his feet and worship him as the god they believe him to be. Their saviour.
Drunk on power, he lumbers forward, leading his believers through the valley of the shadow of deception towards the pit of doom. There is singing and shouts of ‘God save the king!’ As they sing and dance, they don’t notice the ground is slipping out from underneath their feet. Resolutely they defend him blind to the decay, the corruption and the greed.
Too late they realize that their king is no king at all. He’s just a dollop of orange atop turd mountain shouting for all to hear that he is the best king ever.