Trump: I am your king.
Peasant Woman: Well, I didn't vote for you.
Trump: You don't vote for kings.
Peasant Woman: Well, how'd you become king, then?
[Angelic music plays... ]
Trump: Fred Trump, his arm clad in the purest shimmering samite, held aloft one million dollars from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Donald, was to carry Trump industries. That is why I am your king.
Dennis the Peasant: Listen. Strange men lying in ponds distributing money is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.
Trump: Be quiet!
Dennis the Peasant: You can't expect to wield supreme power just 'cause some real estate developer threw money at you!
Trump: Shut up
Dennis the Peasant: I mean, if I went around saying I was an emperor just because some moistened bint had lobbed a sac of cash at me, they'd put me away!
Trump: [grabs Dennis] Shut up! Will you shut up?!
Dennis: Ah, now we see the violence inherent in the system!
Trump: [shakes Dennis] Shut up!
Dennis: Oh! Come and see the violence inherent in the system! Help, help, I'm being repressed!
Trump: Bloody Peasant!
Dennis: Ooh, what a giveaway!
Thanks Monty Python for inspiring this.
