The American president paused the post-G7 diplomatic breakthrough to ensure the seventeenth-century estate featured a suitably hostile amount of crown molding.
VERSAILLES, France — Rain battered the cobblestones of the Cour d'Honneur on Sunday evening, carrying the faint scent of diesel from the presidential motorcade into the grand apartments. Inside, United States President Donald Trump ran a hand along a seventeenth-century gilded pilaster, finally determining that the Palace of Versailles met his minimum aesthetic requirements for the signing of a 14-point memorandum of understanding with Iran.
The historic post-G7 diplomatic breakthrough, which outlines a fragile framework for sanctions relief, briefly took a backseat to the American president's quiet appraisal of the Hall of Mirrors. French President Emmanuel Macron watched in practiced silence as his counterpart tapped the solid silver balustrades, nodded at the ceiling frescoes of Louis XIV, and appeared to calculate the room's square footage.
Waiters in starched white coats moved silently around the periphery, collecting empty flutes of Perrier-Jouët. The dissonance between the delicate geopolitical maneuvering and the sheer, unrestrained excess of the Bourbon monarchy seemed lost on the room, save for a few junior attachés nervously eyeing the mirrors while the principals took their seats at the mahogany table.
The President has always maintained that comprehensive Middle East peace requires a backdrop with an aggressive, almost hostile amount of crown molding. We were fully prepared to walk away if the chandeliers felt cheap.
The 14 points of the memorandum were eventually initialed under the gaze of thirty Le Brun masterpieces. Diplomatic sources confirmed that while the delegations scrutinized the text regarding uranium enrichment, Trump scrutinized the marble flooring for signs of structural settling.
Following the dinner, Trump reportedly asked Macron if the estate was currently zoned for an eighteen-hole golf course, before handing his commemorative pen to an aide and stepping back out into the damp European night.