In the annals of entrepreneurial eccentricity, few ventures rival the fictional saga of Donald Trump’s speedboat business in Ukraine. Dubbed Trump Waves, this hypothetical enterprise was born not from geopolitical strategy or economic foresight—but from a dream to turn the Dnipro River into the Monaco of Eastern Europe.

According to this imagined narrative, Trump arrived in Kyiv with a vision: luxury speedboats emblazoned with gold trim, staffed by multilingual captains trained in both navigation and negotiation. The flagship model, the Trump Torpedo, boasted onboard jacuzzis, mirrored ceilings, and a voice-activated sound system that played “Hail to the Chief” every time the throttle was pushed past 60 knots.

The business plan? Simple. Tap into Ukraine’s growing appetite for Western luxury, and transform weekend river cruises into high-octane spectacles of wealth and bravado. “We’re going to make boating great again,” Trump allegedly declared at a fictional ribbon-cutting ceremony, flanked by cardboard cutouts of Ivanka and Melania.

But the challenges were as swift as the boats themselves. Local officials, baffled by the sudden influx of neon-lit vessels, questioned the legality of speedboat races through historic canals. Environmentalists protested the wake damage to nesting sites. And a rival company—Putin’s Paddleboats—launched a smear campaign claiming Trump’s boats were powered by “fake horsepower.”

In this imaginary world, Trump responded with characteristic flair. He tweeted (in this fictional universe), “Ukraine LOVES Trump Boats. Best boats. Fastest boats. Putin’s boats? Sad.” Sales surged briefly, especially among oligarchs and influencers, before plummeting due to a scandal involving inflatable decoys and mislabeled champagne.