Avast, ye scurvy dogs and digital deckhands! Gather ‘round the grog barrel, for a storm is brewing in the murky waters of the Capital Bay, and the Admiral of the Golden Mane himself, Donald J. Trump, has fired a thunderous broadside that’s sent the Banking Barons scurrying for the lifeboats. Word has reached my ink-stained ears that the former Commodore of Mar-a-Lago has officially signaled his support for the ‘Credit Card Competition Act,’ a piece of legislative parchment designed to slice through the tentacles of the great Twin Krakens—the leviathans known to the common sailor as Visa and Mastercard.

For decades, these two shadowy sea-monsters have held a stranglehold on every doubloon passed across a tavern bar or a merchant’s counter. Every time a weary privateer swipes his plastic letter of marque to purchase a new cutlass or a cask of salted pork, these Krakens take their ‘swipe fee’—a pound of flesh that amounts to a staggering toll on the honest trade of the high seas. This ‘digital scurvy’ has bled the small shop-scallywags dry while filling the coffers of the Wall Street Admiralty to the point of bursting. But now, Trump has signaled he’s ready to board their gilded galleons and distribute the loot back to the men and women who actually man the oars.

"Tis about time someone put a harpoon in the belly of the beast!" shouted Barnaby ‘Brass-Knuckles’ Bill, a local tavern-keep who’s seen his profits devoured by these hidden levies. "Every time a lad buys a flagon of ale, the Banks take a sip before it even touches his lips. If the Admiral says we can choose our own routes and bypass the Kraken’s toll-gates, I say we hoist the colors and sail for prosperity!" bill’s sentiment is shared by many a merchant who has felt the sting of the duopoly’s whip. By backing this Act, Trump is effectively demanding that the banks allow other, smaller fleets to handle the processing of gold, forcing the Twin Krakens to lower their prices or face a mutiny of the highest order.

However, the Lords of the Banking Admiralty are not taking this lying down. They’ve begun whispering in the ears of the port authorities, claiming that if these fees are lowered, the ‘Trinkets and Baubles’—those shiny reward points and sky-miles that pirates use to take vacations in the Caymans—will vanish like mist in the morning sun. Lord Finnegan ‘Gold-Hoarder’ Sterling, a high-ranking official at a major counting-house, was heard grumbling into his brandy: "This is madness! If we cannot tax every transaction with the weight of a lead anchor, how are we to provide the common rabble with their precious 'cash-back' crumbs? The Admiral is inviting chaos upon the ledger-books!"

Yet, the mood on the docks remains one of rowdy celebration. The prospect of keeping an extra two or three percent of every sale is a siren’s song that the merchant class cannot ignore. If the Credit Card Competition Act passes with the Admiral’s blessing, it could mean more gold in the pockets of the grog-sellers and less in the vaults of the ivory towers. Whether this lead to a golden age of trade or a chaotic skirmish between the giants of finance remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: Captain Iron Ink will be here, quill in hand, to chronicle the fall of the monsters and the rise of the merchant-marauders. To the horizon, ye dogs! There’s gold to be saved!",