Once upon a time, in a world slightly more bizarre than our own, U.S. President Donald J. Trump decides to expand his influence across the Atlantic. No longer content with just Greenland, Canada, The panama canal and Llandrindod Wells Boating Lake, Trump sets his sights on an ambitious goal: taking over the United Kingdom. Naturally, such a plan required an ally, and who better than the pragmatic and unsuspecting leader of the U.K., Sir Keir Starmer?
The First Meeting: A Plot Unfolds
In the dimly lit backroom of a Newport café, Trump and Starmer shared an unusual afternoon tea. Trump, sporting a red tie so long it practically touched the floor, leaned across the table, gesturing wildly.
“Keir,” he said in his characteristic tone, “we’re going to do something tremendous. The greatest takeover. Tremendous, believe me. You and me, we’re going to make Wales the centre of power. Newport, baby. Newport will be huge.”
Starmer, sipping his tea cautiously, raised an eyebrow. “And what’s the plan, Donald?”
Trump grinned. “We take the migrants I’m forcing out of the U.S.—great folks, hard workers, tremendous people—and we bring them here. They’ll love it! Fresh air, rolling hills, and, uh, whatever Welsh people eat. I hear it’s fantastic.”
“Welsh cakes,” Starmer replied flatly.
“Exactly! Welsh cakes. We line their pockets with them. We’ll make them into an army. A tremendous army. And we’ll set up barricades on the Severn Bridge to keep the English out of Wales.”
Starmer, ever the politician, frowned. “And how does this benefit us politically?”
“Simple,” Trump said, smirking. “We blame the chaos on the Tories. You’ll look like a hero, I’ll look like a genius, and together we’ll control Newport and then the whole UK. It’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to Wales. Tremendous, believe me.”
The Newport Headquarters
Within weeks, Trump and Starmer had established a clandestine office in Newport, South Wales. The building, painted in gaudy gold and emblazoned with the slogan “Make Wales Great Again,” became the hub for their operation. Migrants, arriving daily under the cover of night, were handed crates of Welsh cakes and a crash course in creating barricades.
Trump took a hands-on approach, standing atop a pile of leeks as he addressed his new recruits. “Folks, you’re going to love it here. We’ve got the best sheep, the best rugby, and the best cakes. And these cakes? You’re going to throw them—hard. Really hard. At the English invaders.”
Starmer, meanwhile, coordinated the legal and political side of the operation, ensuring plausible deniability. “If questioned,” he told the recruits, “simply say you’re part of a community baking initiative.”
The Severn Bridge Standoff
The day of the great barricade came quickly. Migrants, armed with bags of Welsh cakes, marched to the Severn Bridge under Trump’s orders. The barricades, constructed from sheep pens, rugby posts, and piles of daffodils, were a sight to behold. Trump arrived in a golden tractor, waving to the cheering crowd.
On the other side of the bridge, confused English commuters stared at the spectacle. One brave driver shouted, “What’s going on?” only to be pelted with a barrage of Welsh cakes.
Starmer, watching from a safe distance, muttered to himself, “This is madness. Absolute madness.”
But Trump was undeterred. “This is history in the making, folks. We’re keeping Wales great, keeping it safe, and doing it with style. Tremendous style.”
The Aftermath
News of the Severn Bridge barricade spread like wildfire. Headlines screamed, “Trump and Starmer Unite for Welsh Revolution!” and “The Great Welsh Cake War Begins!”
The English government demanded answers, but Trump simply tweeted, “Fake news. The English love it. They’re asking for more Welsh cakes. Tremendous reviews.”
Starmer, trying to salvage his political career, held a press conference. “This initiative,” he said, adjusting his tie, “was always intended to promote community cohesion through baking.”
Meanwhile, Newport thrived as the epicenter of the rebellion. Migrants and locals alike bonded over the shared goal of keeping the English out and perfecting their cake-throwing aim.
A Legacy of Chaos and Cake
Though the barricades eventually fell and the chaos subsided, the tale of Trump and Starmer’s bizarre alliance lives on. Newport became famous for its role in the “Great Welsh Cake War,” and tourists flocked to the Severn Bridge to see the spot where it all unfolded.
As for Trump and Starmer, they parted ways—Trump returning to the U.S. to launch “Trump Tower: Swansea” and Starmer quietly retreating to a life of trying to run the U.K.
But in the hearts of the Welsh, their legacy endured: a story of unlikely allies, defiant migrants, and the power of a humble Welsh cake.
