Donold J. Grump #8

The Mistress of DOGIE

The dining room at Maga Logo was unusually quiet the following afternoon, a stillness lingering like smoke after a fire. Staff whispered nervously as they moved through the halls, most still reeling from the events of the prior evening—paint orders, firings, and the President-elect’s strange insistence that invisible loyalty dragons were burning holes in the disloyal.

Donold J. Grump sat alone at his favorite table, wearing a freshly pressed suit that had somehow avoided the splattering chaos of his “masterpiece” the night before. Sparky perched invisibly on a golden fruit bowl centerpiece, preening his translucent wings as Grump forked through a half-eaten plate of eggs and bacon.

“Traitors everywhere, Donny,” Sparky rumbled softly, his molten gold eyes fixed on the nervous waitstaff in the corner. “See that one? His glow’s flickering green.”

Grump jabbed his fork toward a young assistant. “You! What’s wrong with you? Stop flickering. Sparky doesn’t like it.”

The assistant blinked in terror. “Sir?”

“Out! Before you get roasted!” Grump barked. The assistant bolted, nearly upending a tray of coffee cups on his way out.

Sparky chuckled, exhaling an invisible wisp of smoke. “You’ve got good instincts, Donny. We’ll root out every last one of them.”

Before Grump could respond, the double doors at the far end of the room burst open, and Emptee Gee entered, clacking across the marble floor in a pair of heels that seemed far too loud for anyone else to wear in Maga Logo.

She was a walking contradiction of confidence and chaos—her hot-pink pantsuit so bright it felt like an assault on the décor, her bleach-blonde hair teased high enough to double as a lightning rod. Her grin was wide, her gait purposeful, and her voice carried like a foghorn through the hushed room.

“President-elect Grump!” she declared, her arms flung wide. “Reporting for duty!”

Grump looked up from his plate, squinting as if she were backlit by the sun. “Emptee Gee,” he muttered, a smirk pulling at his lips. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Sparky tilted his head, whispering to Grump. “This one’s... interesting. Loud, but bright. She’s glowing pink. That’s new.”

“She’s loyal,” Grump muttered under his breath, rising to his feet. “Loyalty to me comes first, the Constitution isn't even second or third.”

Emptee marched right up to the table and dropped into a chair opposite Grump, oblivious to protocol, personal space, or anything resembling subtlety. “Sir, whatever you need—whatever America needs—I’m here to do it. I know people say I’m too passionate, too loud, too patriotic, but that’s just because they’re scared of me.”

Grump raised an eyebrow. “You like loyalty, do you?”

“Loyalty’s my favorite thing!” Emptee declared, slapping her palm on the table. “Right up there with America, prayer breakfasts, and CrossFit.”

Grump grinned. “Perfect. Come with me, Emptee. I’ve got something to show you.”

The Masterpiece

Grump led Emptee through the gilded halls of Maga Logo, Sparky trotting invisibly at his side. Emptee’s heels clacked like gunshots against the tile floor as she followed, her excitement barely contained.

“I just know it’s gonna be great, sir!” she babbled as they walked. “I’m always ready for art. I love art. I once bought a velvet Elvis painting for my living room. Really brightens the place up.”

Grump gave her a sidelong glance, unsure what to do with that information. “You’ll love this,” he said.

When they reached the double doors of Grump’s suite, he swung them open with a theatrical flourish. “Behold!”

Emptee stepped inside—and froze.

The room looked like a bomb had gone off at a paint factory. Colors were everywhere. Red dripped from the chandeliers like blood, orange and blue streaked the curtains in chaotic arcs, and thick puddles of green and yellow pooled on the marble floor like toxic sludge. The walls, furniture, and even a statue of Grump himself were buried beneath layer after layer of sloppily hurled paint.

Emptee gasped, her eyes wide. “It’s... it’s beautiful!”

Grump crossed his arms, grinning like a proud schoolboy. “I call it Loyalty in Color. Sparky and I made it ourselves.”

“Who’s Sparky?” Emptee asked, confused.

“You’ll meet him soon enough,” Grump replied, waving her off.

Grump led Emptee to the dripping sofa—formerly white and pristine, now tie-dyed with hues of purple and red—and motioned for her to sit. She perched carefully on the least sticky part of the couch, beaming at him like a child waiting for candy.

“Emptee,” Grump said, pacing in front of her with his hands clasped behind his back. “I’ve been thinking. I need someone I can trust. Someone loyal. Someone loud.”

Emptee gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “You’re talking about me, sir?”

“That’s right,” Grump said, stopping to face her. “I’m putting you in charge of DOGIE—the Department of Government Inefficiency and Errata.”

Emptee blinked. “DOGIE?”

“DOGIE,” Grump repeated firmly. “Your job is to meet with every cabinet nominee and figure out who’s loyal and who’s not. Loyalty is everything. Sparky will help you.”

Emptee frowned. “I still don’t know who Sparky is, but I’ll do it. I’ll make DOGIE the loudest, most patriotic department in the history of departments!”

Grump clapped his hands together. “That’s the spirit!”

Dinner and Dragons

To celebrate Emptee’s appointment, Grump ordered dinner: thick steaks slathered in mushrooms—his new favorite ingredient. They ate together in the chaos of the paint-covered suite, Grump tearing into his steak while Emptee shoveled mushrooms into her mouth, chattering excitedly between bites.

“You know what DOGIE stands for, right?” she said between chews. “Defending America, Outrageously Great, Inefficiency Erased!”

“That’s not what it stands for, Emptee,” Grump said, frowning slightly.

“Doesn’t matter!” she said, grinning. “It’s catchy!”

As the mushrooms worked their way through Emptee’s system, the colors in the room began to shimmer and glow. She paused mid-bite, blinking at the walls. “Uh... Mr. President-elect? Did the room just move?”

Grump smirked, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Told you. You’ll meet Sparky soon.”

Sure enough, Sparky’s translucent form appeared beside Grump, his wings flaring and his molten eyes gleaming. Emptee’s jaw dropped.

“What... what is that?” she gasped.

“That’s Sparky,” Grump said proudly.

Before Emptee could process the dragon, a second shimmer filled the room. From the air beside Sparky, a new dragon emerged—a slender, iridescent creature with shimmering pink and violet scales. She stretched her wings gracefully, her movements almost hypnotic.

“Hello, darling,” she purred, her voice dripping with charm.

Emptee’s eyes widened. “Viviant!”

Grump blinked. “You see her too?”

Emptee nodded vigorously. “She’s mine! I always knew I had a dragon!”

Viviant fluttered her wings, landing beside Sparky. “Well, Sparky,” she purred, “aren’t you handsome?”

Sparky straightened up, his chest puffed out. “And you, Viviant, are radiant.”

The two dragons began circling each other in the air, their scales glowing brighter as they spiraled together.

Grump stared, mesmerized. “Look at them. They’re in love.”

Emptee turned to him, her face glowing. “It’s beautiful, Donny.”

Grump looked at Emptee and blinked. The pink and violet glow of Viviant reflected off Emptee’s face, making her look radiant in a way he hadn’t noticed before.

“You’re glowing too,” Grump murmured.

“So are you,” Emptee whispered.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the room disappeared in a haze of swirling colors. Without thinking, they leaned toward each other, their lips meeting in a clumsy, paint-flecked kiss

Thirty seconds later Grump collapsed back onto the bed, his tie askew and a satisfied grin on his face. Emptee sat up beside him, her hair a mess and her pink suit splattered with stray streaks of paint.

“Wow,” Grump said, grinning lazily. “Much better than Rainey Daniels.”

Emptee giggled, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “Don’t you worry, Donny. As long as I’m in charge of your DOGIE position, you’ll never have to deal with disloyalty again.”

She slid off the bed, straightened her suit, and motioned for Viviant to follow. “Come on, Viviant. We’ve got work to do.”

Viviant fluttered to her shoulder, winking at Sparky. “See you soon, handsome.”

Sparky yawned, curling up at the foot of the bed. “You’re on fire, Donny. Pure fire.”

Grump grinned at the rainbow-splattered ceiling. “I know, Sparky. I know.”