The new coins being designed for our sasquatchcentennial year as a nation are causing some controversy. In particular, the new dime features a bald eagle holding arrows in one talon and nothing in the other, where traditionally he would have been holding the olive branch of peace. This seems a rather stark reminder that we are officially a warfaring nation now. “That one was for Pete,” the design committee admitted. “Also the eagle will be slimmer in the hips and broader in the chest, like a big pouter pigeon, only fiercer.” Traditionalists attempted to remind the President that he is now the Peace President for some reason and tried to steer him toward something less belligerent, like, say, a dove of peace. Artists got to work and soon the eagle was portrayed clutching a dove with its neck bent and little X’s over its eyes. A few drops of blood represented the brave Americans who gave their last measure fighting for the plutocracy. “Well, that’s nature,” said an approving president. Lady Liberty is on the obverse side, as usual, but with extensions and a juicy pout.

Considered worse, in some circles, is the decision to put Trump on the obverse of a commemorative gold coin. Putting a living person on an American coin has been against the law for a long time, so, naturally, most Americans were quite heartened by the news that Trump would be dead by summer. Trump’s spokesdroid reminded us that the traditional resistance toward monarchic symbolism was moot, or would be after the midterms, after which nobody needed to vote anymore. The design in question features Trump staring straight ahead with fists clenched and glowering. Below that image are the words “In God We Trust.”

The natural implication here is that Trump is God, and also trustworthy. There are objections to that as well, because some of our more treasonous citizens simply refuse to get on board with either notion. The design committee came back with a few suggestions, including that the coin should feature Trump as God in the Sistine Chapel version, supported by winged sycophants, with blond mane and necktie flying, but without Adam or any other naked man cluttering up the composition. It was thought that something would come to mind that Trump could finger instead.

The president was agreeable to that but floated the idea that the coin—twenty-four carat gold, like a standard toilet—should be the size of the buckle on a championship wrestler’s belt.

One proposition is that a new nickel could be minted in the tradition of the famed Indian Head or buffalo nickel. The Indian Head on the obverse of that coin was not the image of a single man, but a composite of possibly three Native American chieftains, and it was thought that a new composite might fit the bill of not depicting a living person—this time honoring our neglected white heritage: perhaps a mashup of Donald Trump, Brad Pitt, and Sylvester Stallone, only blond, could be on the perverse. The reverse, of course, would pay homage to the beloved buffalo, but render only what the bison left behind.

As weary employees of the mint explained, all of this will be worthwhile if it keeps the president from blowing up some goddamn mountain to get his likeness carved into it. There’s time. His committee to find the biggest goddamn hunk of granite, the biggest ever, like no one has ever seen before, has run into some reality obstacles. The president can be put off for a while. He remains free to express his sediments, but his profound igneance might save the day.