It’s the sort of thing that practically writes itself: a gilded jet from Qatar, wrapped in diplomatic ribbon and stamped with the words “The Diplomat Special.” All aboard the Foreign Influence Express! Don’t forget your trade deals and your neatly filed donation receipts.

Trump, of course, grinning ear to ear, steps off the plane with a “Donation Receipt” in one hand and his other palm open wide. And who’s waiting at the bottom of the steps? A Qatari diplomat, eager to shake hands and hand over a matching slip. In the clouds behind them, a gaggle of businessmen practically frothing at the mouth, clutching dollar bills like they’ve just won the sweepstakes. They’ve got signs that read “Trade Deal” and “Access Granted,” and they’re following Trump down that golden staircase like lemmings with dollar signs for eyes.

And yet, off to the side, two lonely figures wave red flags—one literally. Their sign asks the obvious: “Foreign Emoluments Clause? Anyone?” The other just holds a little flag that reads “Pax,” as if someone might actually notice that there’s a constitutional crisis dressed up in jet fuel and diplomatic immunity.

What’s most impressive here isn’t even the shamelessness. That’s old news. It’s the sheer audacity of painting it gold, rolling it out on a red carpet, and pretending it’s anything less than what it is: a flying billboard for foreign influence. I can almost hear the sales pitch: “Why buy your influence in Washington when you can just gift it directly? Comes with complementary hypocrisy and a side of plausible deniability.”

And lately, what I’m seeing is that cloud of red flags getting thicker and thicker by the day.

Stay tuned—next time, maybe they’ll throw in a yacht.