Donold J. Grump #6

The gilded dining room of Donold J. Grump’s private suite gleamed under the chandelier’s harsh light. The table stretched absurdly long for a man eating alone, its gold trim reflecting the flicker of candles placed at precise intervals. Dinner had just been served—a thick, perfectly seared steak adorned with sautéed mushrooms—and Grump sat at the head of the table, his napkin tucked into his shirt like a bib.

Charles, his valet, hovered nearby, ready to anticipate Grump’s every whim. Grump picked up his knife and fork, savoring the aroma of the mushrooms. The earthy smell wafted up, and his pulse quickened.

“This smells like power,” he muttered to himself, cutting into the steak. He took a bite, then scooped a forkful of mushrooms into his mouth. They melted on his tongue, their flavor rich, woody, and slightly tangy.

As the meal continued, the air in the room grew heavy. Grump paused mid-bite, looking around suspiciously. The chandelier above seemed to stretch upward, the crystals shifting like liquid gold.

A faint rumbling sound filled his ears.

“Donny!” a deep, gravelly voice boomed in his head.

Grump jolted upright, his knife clattering onto his plate. “What? Who said that?”

The air shimmered near the end of the table, and a small, translucent dragon the size of a large dog appeared, its scales glowing faintly with red and orange hues. Its wings, like panes of fiery glass, flicked lazily as it perched on the table.

Grump gasped, leaning back in his chair. “Sparky! You’re back!”

Sparky grinned, his pointed teeth glinting in the light. “Evening, Donny. I thought I’d check in. How’s the steak?”

Grump chuckled nervously, dabbing his mouth with his napkin. “Perfect. Could use more mushrooms, though. These things are incredible—expanding my mind, Sparky. I can see people’s auras now. Did you know that?”

Sparky nodded sagely. “Of course I know. That’s why I’m here—to help you see who’s loyal and who’s not.”

Grump grinned. “I knew I could count on you, Sparky. You’ve got the instincts of a winner.”

Sparky tilted his head, his molten gold eyes narrowing as he looked toward Charles, who was quietly arranging dessert on the nearby cart.

“Speaking of instincts,” Sparky said, his voice dropping to a growl, “that guy’s aura is flickering. Loyalty... questionable.”

Grump turned sharply, narrowing his eyes at Charles. Sure enough, his golden aura wasn’t as bright as it had been earlier. It wavered like a dying light bulb, a sure sign of treachery.

“Charles,” Grump barked, his voice booming. “What’s with the flickering? What are you hiding?”

Charles blinked, startled. “Sir?”

“You heard me!” Grump leaned forward, jabbing a finger at him. “Your aura’s all over the place. Sparky says you’re disloyal.”

Charles frowned. “Sir, I... I’m not sure what you mean by aura.”

Grump slammed his hand on the table, rattling the dishes. “Don’t play dumb! Sparky sees everything!”

Charles hesitated, his professional demeanor faltering. “Sparky... sir?”

Before Grump could respond, Sparky leapt from the table, his wings spreading wide as he hovered over Charles. The translucent dragon reared back, opening its mouth as a burst of invisible fire erupted from his maw.

“Burn him, Sparky!” Grump shouted.

Charles stumbled back, his clipboard falling to the floor. To Grump, the room filled with the roar of flames as Sparky’s fire engulfed the valet. To Charles, his employer was waving wildly at thin air, shouting about something imaginary.

“Sir, I assure you, I’ve done nothing wrong!” Charles stammered, backing toward the door.

“You’re toast!” Grump bellowed, pointing dramatically. “Sparky says you’re disloyal, and when Sparky speaks, I listen! You’re fired!”

The valet paused, his face a mix of confusion and fear. “Sir, I—”

“Out!” Grump screamed, flinging his napkin at him. “Get out before Sparky turns you into ashes!”

The door slammed shut as Charles fled, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

A Colorful Vision

As Sparky returned to his perch on the dining table, Grump reclined in his chair, a satisfied grin on his face. “Good work, Sparky. That guy was a rat.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Sparky said, licking his claws. “But Donny, we need to talk about your look.”

Grump frowned, adjusting his tie. “What about it? This suit’s custom-made.”

“It’s boring,” Sparky said flatly. “Gray? Really? You’re supposed to be my champion, Donny—a beacon of greatness. But this?” He gestured with his tail. “This looks like something a guy in accounting would wear.”

Grump’s frown deepened as he looked down at his suit. Now that Sparky mentioned it, it did seem dull. Ordinary. Unworthy of a man with his vision and power.

“You’re right,” Grump said, nodding slowly. “We need color. Lots of color. Something bold, eye-catching... something that says, ‘This guy is on fire.’”

“Exactly,” Sparky said, his eyes gleaming.

Grump slammed his hand on the table. “We’re going to make a masterpiece, Sparky. A suit so vibrant, it’ll make history.”

He turned to another staff member, a housekeeper who had been lingering nervously near the door. “You! What’s your name?”

“Uh... Alice, sir,” she said, her voice trembling.

“Fine, Alice,” Grump said, waving his hand dismissively. “Get me five-gallon buckets of paint—every color of the rainbow. I want them delivered to my suite by morning.”

Alice hesitated. “Buckets, sir? Should I also get brushes or plastic to—”

“Brushes?” Grump scoffed. “Plastic? Nonsense! We’re doing this old school. Sparky and I will handle the painting ourselves.”

Alice nodded quickly. “Yes, sir. Right away.”

As she scurried out of the room, Sparky let out a low chuckle. “You’ve got vision, Donny. That’s why you’re the best.”

Grump grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Damn right I’m the best. The best president, the best boss, and soon, the best painter. With you by my side, Sparky, there’s nothing we can’t do.”

Later That Night

The suite was quiet, save for the faint hum of the chandelier and the occasional clink of glasses as Grump poured himself another Diet Coke. Sparky lay curled up on the carpet, his tail flicking lazily.

“You know,” Sparky said, his voice low and conspiratorial, “this is just the beginning. The auras, the painting—it’s all part of a bigger plan.”

Grump perked up, setting down his glass. “Bigger plan? What plan?”

“The plan to root out the disloyal,” Sparky said, his molten gold eyes gleaming. “To surround yourself with people who truly believe in you. We’ll use the colors to sort them out—the brighter they glow, the more loyal they are.”

Grump nodded, his mind racing. “Yes. Loyalty. That’s what it’s all about.”

“And Donny,” Sparky added, his voice dropping to a purr, “when we’re done here, we’ll take this vision to the whole country. Imagine it: a nation where everyone glows with loyalty to you.”

Grump’s grin widened. He could see it now—an America filled with people who believed in him completely, their auras glowing brightly under his watchful eye.

“You’re a genius, Sparky,” he said. “An absolute genius.”

Sparky yawned, curling up like a satisfied cat. “I know, Donny. I know.”

Grump stared out the window at the darkened landscape of Maga Logo, his reflection faintly glowing in the glass. He wasn’t just a leader. He was a visionary. With Sparky by his side, there was no one—no one—who could stand in his way.