MAGA Chronicles: Defying the King Rat

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The evening was settling in as I entered Joe’s BBQ. Familiar smells of smoked meat and baked beans were in the air. Regulars sat in their usual spots, engrossed in conversation and laughter, their smiles as warm as the food. But this ambiance was soon interrupted by an unusual sight.

A curious-looking creature dominated the scene. It was sporting bizarre-looking hair that was infested with…rats. On its head sat a grand crown, tilted slightly. It didn’t take much to draw parallels with a controversial figure known for a similar slogan – Donald Trump, former president and forever fool.

The ‘man’ was the self-appointed waiter for the evening, taking orders with an air of authority, only his attitude was far from cordial. As I stepped forward to place my order, I was met with stony silence. He acted as though my presence, the color of my skin, had no place in its domain. It was an ugly display of prejudice that I hadn’t expected.

I persisted, standing my ground while the rat continued its show of indifference. The laughter and chatter had dimmed, replaced with hushed whispers and wide-eyed stares. The atmosphere in Joe’s BBQ had gone from welcoming to uncomfortable, all thanks to the man known as the King Rat.

Finally, it turned to me, face bearing an insincere grin that did nothing to mask his disdain. I ordered my usual, the brisket and coleslaw. The man scribbled it down, then dropped the bombshell. The price he quoted was almost three times the usual.

Shocked, I protested, pointing to the price listed on the menu. The rat-man merely shrugged, an unnerving smirk on his face. “You don’t understand. I am the King Rat, and I can do whatever I want, so I am raising the price,” it said with a haughty air.

Echoes of Trump’s reign, his unchecked power and disregard for fairness, played out in this microcosm. The King Rat, like Trump, seemed to bask in the power of imposing his will without honor or decency. He didn’t care for the plight of the ‘lesser’ beings as long as he could maintain his twisted rule.

“But aren’t you supposed to treat all your customers equally?” I asked, a plea for basic human decency. His response was dismissive and arrogant, mimicking Trump’s similar disregard for those beneath his socio-political stature.

“All I have to do is think it, and it is true. After all, I am the King Rat and can do anything I want.”

His words hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the cruelty I and so many others had faced, particularly during the MAGA infestation. As I walked out, my appetite was lost to the bitter taste of bigotry; I knew that the encounter was more than an inflated bill. It was a stark portrayal of unchecked power and unabashed prejudice.

And so, I made a choice to stand against it. My wallet remained in my pocket, untouched. My departure was my protest. My hunger is a small price to pay for the lesson learned that night: tyranny must be resisted, no matter how small or large. It wasn’t just the tale of a meal gone awry; it was the story of the fight against discrimination, which was far from over. This was one rat that needed to be trapped.

About Post Author

Professor Mike

Professor Mike is a left-leaning, dog loving, political junkie. He has written dozens of articles for Substack, Medium, Simily, and Tribel. Professor Mike has been published at Smerconish.com, among others. He is a strong proponent of the environment, and a passionate protector of animals. In addition he is a fierce anti-Trumper. Take a moment and share his work.

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