In This Ohio Diner, the Emperor is Still Fully Clothed
(4-minute read)
In This Ohio Diner, the Emperor is Still Fully Clothed
By Devlin Eggson
Special to The New York Times
The Rusty Lunchbox Diner in Hanover, Ohio is no stranger to controversy. Some regulars are sure that the Fighting Tongues of Licking Valley High have the best pass rush defense in the county, but others say that Norwood Central is underrated. Dr. Pepper and Mr. Pibb partisans can be found at every table during the morning rush.
But there’s one thing everyone agrees on: The Emperor’s clothes exist and they always have.
Far from these parts, critics claim that the Emperor’s wattled gooch meat and nearly translucent, pudding-adjacent buttocks might be fully exposed.
Dr. Dane Hissel, director for the Center for Applied Political Nudity at Harvard University, has questioned the Emperor’s assertions of finery.
“His Majesty regularly says he’s dressed in the finest Italian three-piece suits and bespoke silk robes. But our model has analyzed over 3,700 photographs of him in public, and we haven’t seen so much as a left sock. His claims to clothing certainly need further investigation.”
Back at the Rusty Lunchbox, Sheila McRae, 45, who’s been stopping by for her morning coffee ever since she was laid off from the rake factory three months ago, scoffed at such suggestions.
“Oh, his get-ups are just glorious,” said McRae, 45. “Today it’s a fringed leather jacket and skin tight jeans, just like a young Burt Reynolds.” She then glanced out the window at the Emperor as he pranced gingerly up and down South Main Street, which he does every morning between 8:45 and 9.
In this corner of America, where many diners echoed a sense of being forgotten by Washington, the Emperor’s take-no-prisoners approach to fashion provides a lifeline.
“Back when I was growing up here it was a real community. You could walk down any street at midnight, buck naked, and not worry about your safety,” said Jim Patterson, 57, a local probate attorney halfway through a Western omelet. “I mean clothed, fully clothed. Which his Imperial Majesty is of course. But nowadays you can’t go downtown without getting mugged by a cat, and then the cat walks away with your wallet and gets eaten by some immigrant. It’s just sad.”
During his April 7th parade through town the Emperor appeared to wink at the controversy he’s created. That morning he wrote “I AM NAKED AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT” across his sea-lion sized abdomen with a Sharpie. At table 12, several customers recalled the incident with giggles before murmuring that anyone who claimed the Emperor was naked was probably just naked themselves.
Back outside, his Imperial Highness sashayed down the double-yellow line, pirouetted and almost tripped into a pothole.
The Emperor’s bold choices have even made him something of a trendsetter in a place where most locals shop at the Dress Hole out on Route 14. Laura Chisholm, the owner of The Rusty Lunchbox, reports an increasing number of patrons wearing the latest see-through, textureless slacks.
“I wipe down the booths twice now just to make sure I get the ass imprints off the vinyl,” says Laura as she flips sausage patties on the flat top. “But it’s really not a big deal.”
Lately there’s even been chatter about the jobs that are planned for a new 30,000 square-foot imperial garment factory and distribution center. Regulars aren’t sure about where the complex will be located and how high the starting pay will be. Several sources claim that the factory, which is invisible to libs, is already up and running, and anyone who isn’t incompetent or stupid can just go and see it for themselves.
Laura hasn’t noticed a pickup in factory workers stopping in for her famous Four-Star Pancake Stack before their shift. But she’s giving it time. And this month the Licking County Chamber of Commerce held three different ribbon cutting ceremonies at three different empty lots in the area where the new jobs either are located, will be located, or always have been located.
Meanwhile, the breakfast rush at The Rusty Lunchbox was already ebbing and the Emperor was winding up his strut.
Kathryn Perkins, 34, a teacher’s aide at nearby Polk Elementary, sounded a skeptical note as she mopped up a dab of yolk with her last home fry.
“Everyone who thinks he’s wearing bathrobes or chinos or whatever, they’re all brainwashed,” Perkins said. “He’s obviously wearing a hyper-realistic flesh-colored bodysuit digitally printed so that it looks like I can see his anus. But what I’m looking at isn’t really his anus. It only looks like his anus. That’s how he operates: Always pushing the boundaries and trolling everyone.”
Several yards away, local police had stopped traffic as the Emperor attempted a split for his big finale. As his legs separated, the Emperor lost his balance, tipped over and struck his testicles - which may or not have been exposed - on the curb.
As he curled into the fetal position and yelped in pain, applause erupted from the crowd of a half-dozen or so loyal subjects and court eunuchs who gather in The Rusty Lunchbox’s gravel parking lot for the daily spectacle.
No two of them could agree on what the emperor was wearing, or why this parade was even happening. But it didn’t matter. As they looked down at their sobbing sovereign with broad smiles and slow nods, everyone seemed to come to the same conclusion: This is what America is all about.
Bravo 👏
Absolute best. You had me going until the comment about white toast and then I knew it was pure Louis.