America Needs Greenland. No—Iceland. Actually, Never Mind!

After several marathon sessions in Room 101 of the Ministry of Trump, the Republican member of Congress was beginning to see the strategic necessity of destroying NATO to add Greenland to the United States. It still came only in flashes. The Republican was strapped to a camp bed surrounded with dials, trying quickly to get his mind right so that he could go back out there and do media and answer the questions about Greenland correctly. He was perspiring heavily, as was his interrogator, O’Brien.

“Has anyone shown him a non-Mercator projection?” the congressman asked. He blinked his eyes against the bright light.

O’Brien sighed. “We’ve been over this,” he said “You have forgotten: There are serious reasons for wanting Greenland besides how large it looks on the map. Do you remember what they are?”

The congressman’s head was throbbing; he saw, or thought he saw, dozens of small Greenlands waving at and taunting him on the wall, on the ceiling, every time he turned his head. “No,” he said. He waited for the pain to begin again. (This process was voluntary; he thought it would be easier than defying Donald Trump publicly.)

“Because,” O’Brien said, with exaggerated patience. “Because ‘the United States alone can protect this giant mass of land, this giant piece of ice.’ His very words this morning. Do you remember now?”

“But,” the Congress member said.

“Think!” O’Brien urged.

“We already have all of the access to Greenland that we might strategically need,” the Congress member said. “And maintaining our alliances is more valuable for protecting peace than having the ability to deploy troops to this rock—”

“Piece of ice,” O’Brien corrected sternly. “You’re not thinking clearly.”

The member sighed. “I’m not seeing it. I’ve lost it.”

O’Brien frowned. “Think!” He turned the dial.

The Congress member winced. “NATO,” he muttered. “NATO.”

“Look at the map,” O’Brien said. “Look how big it is. It must be important, more important than NATO. What’s NATO? Just a series of letters—letters that could easily be rearranged to spell OATN, NAOT, TOAN. Meaningless. Just gibberish.”

The member whimpered. “Greenland,” he said. “National interest. ‘Golden Dome.’”

“Good,” O’Brien said. He lowered the pain dial back to zero and poured himself a glass of ice water. “I love ice.”

“I, too, love ice,” the member said, weakly.

“Very good,” O’Brien said. “Very, very good.” He took another sip and opened Truth Social to see how the president’s trip to Davos was going. “Oh dear,” he said, gravely.

“What?” the congressman asked. “What, what, what is it?”

“Iceland,” O’Brien sighed, removing his spectacles. He played a clip of the president’s speech, fast-forwarding to Trump’s discussion of NATO. “Until the last few days, when I told them about Iceland, they loved me,” Trump was saying. “They called me ‘Daddy.’”

“Iceland?” the member said. “No, it’s Greenland.”

O’Brien fast-forwarded. “They’re not there for us on Iceland, I can tell you,” Trump continued. “I mean, our stock market took the first dip yesterday because of Iceland. So Iceland’s already cost us a lot of money.’”

“No,” the Republican said. “He means Greenland.”

O’Brien frowned and tented his fingers. “A mistake? To wish to acquire Gullfoss Falls? Hot springs? The Prose Edda? You really think he misspoke? Our president?”

“The Prose Edda is lovely,” the Republican said feebly. “Donald Trump is wise.”

“I should say so,” O’Brien said. “For a moment there, I suspected you of the thoughtcrime of believing that Donald J. Trump, the president of the United States, would be willing to torch the country’s credibility, set fire to its alliances, and tank the entire economy to acquire some territory in the North Atlantic whose name he could not even remember.”

The member of Congress sighed. “No,” he said. “No, you’re right. We’d better do Iceland too. In case.” He shut his eyes.

“Iceland,” O’Brien said. “It may require sacrifices, just as Greenland will. Tariffs. Boots on the ground. We must be willing to pay the price. It must be our territory.”

“I want to understand,” the congressman said. “I am trying to understand it.”

O’Brien glanced at Truth Social again. “Oh,” he said. “Never mind. It was Greenland. And the tariffs are off. We don’t need the territory. Just a ‘framework of a future deal.’”

Quietly, the Republican began to sob. “I don’t know how many more things I can believe in the space of three hours.”

“You know,” O’Brien said, “you always have the option of walking out of here and standing up to him. Of saying, ‘You are doing irreparable damage, and none of this makes any sense.’ It only requires a little bit of courage.”

The member lay back down on the cot and strapped himself in tighter. “No,” he said. “I’m good.”