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How the Reichsbürger Coup Might Have UnfoldedThe "Kingdom of Germany" was recently banned. Long legal proceedings are underway against the "Rollator Coup Plotters." But how serious was the actual danger – and how would the power takeover have played out? A fact-based speculation! ![]() Berlin, 6:00 a.m. While Germany is still asleep and even the late-night kiosk sellers are yawning as they set up their folding tables, history is being made: A rollator-led coup shakes the capital. What looks like a local history club outing from Bad Lobenstein turns out to be the most ambitious monarchist undertaking since 1871. The early bird takes the BundestagIt was still dark when a group of about 30 mostly elderly men and women gathered at the south exit of Berlin Central Station. Some with rollators, some with canes, two with artificial hips. Among them, the prince, Heinrich XIII Reuß. He grips the cane—an heirloom from his great-grandfather—tightly.They wore weatherproof wax jackets, beige windbreakers, and a few carried floral rain capes—"just in case." One gentleman loudly complained that trains used to “jerk less.” A lady was still searching for her hearing aid battery. Another had forgotten whether he turned off the iron. At exactly 6:10, they set off for the Reichstag. “I brought an apple,” said Erna K., 76, “for a little snack on the way.” One man carried a thermos of rosehip tea. On the bus, they discussed back pain. A gentleman named Horst reminisced about former President Heinemann. No one disagreed. A royal entry – through the back doorAt exactly 8:20 a.m., a side entrance to the Reichstag building opens – a security staffer, rumored to be born in 1950 himself, lets the group in with a friendly smile. “Oh, it must be that historical tour,” murmured a Bundestag staffer, paying no further attention to the pensioners.Slowly but purposefully, the monarchists moved through the building. One slipped on a freshly cleaned floor, but caught himself gracefully thanks to his walker, exclaiming, “Holla, die Waldfee!” A few ladies paused in the lobby of the plenary hall to neatly drape their coats over the visitor chairs. When they finally entered the chamber, it was a scene for the history books: clattering rollators on carpet, the rhythmic tapping of canes, occasionally interrupted by “Oh, my knee…” or “Wait, I need a quick breather.” The Bundestag police looked confused but waved them through – “They look like a senior group on a political education trip.” Government takeover with pastriesPrince Heinrich XIII Reuß – elegantly dressed in a brown velvet blazer and wearing a family crest pin – strides to the Chancellor’s seat and sits down. Beside him: Helga von B., former primary school teacher, convinced monarchist, wearing a modest floral dress and carrying lavender spray in her bag.The President of the Bundestag notices the royal intruder and rushes over, puzzled. The prince beams. “How lovely of you to come personally! I’ll be taking over the government now.” He hands her a carefully folded manifesto, written in Sütterlin script with handwritten pencil notes: “Added paragraph on butter prices – please include.” A Bundestag usher approaches and offers the new “chancellor” a glass of water, seeing how exhausted he looks. But Prince Reuß politely declines: “I’d prefer a rosehip tea. And maybe a little cookie, if that’s alright – my blood sugar’s a bit low, you understand.” His companion requests a bladder and kidney tea and discreetly asks: “Do you happen to have plum cake?” The usher, pleased by such manners, offers cherry cake as an alternative. The prince decides regally: “I’ll have cherry. The lady will have plum.” The monarch notes down the usher’s name for future cabinet considerations: “A man of dignity. We’ll need him for higher office. Perhaps Secretary of Domestic Affairs.” Amthor out – order must be maintainedYoung MP Philipp Amthor enters the chamber and freezes. Sitting in the Chancellor’s seat: a gentleman with a handkerchief on his lap and reading glasses on his nose. Amthor starts to protest. The President of the Bundestag admonishes him: “Young man, show some respect for your elders!” Reuß asks politely, squinting through his glasses: “Who’s that young fellow over there?” – “That’s Mr. Amthor,” whispers the President. – “Aha. Not very convincing.”Chancellor blocked – the door stays shutShortly after, the Chancellor reaches the door to the plenary hall. Two security guards block his way. “You can’t enter,” one says. “Why not? I’m the Chancellor!” – “The Prince is in there now,” the other explains. – “The King,” the first one adds. The Chancellor looks confused, turns around, and mutters: “Unbelievable! I need a coffee...”n-tv live with the monarchAn n-tv reporter catches the scene and goes live: “We are witnessing a historic moment. Next to me: Heinrich XIII, the new king. Your Majesty, how do you feel?” – The prince adjusts his scarf and replies: “A bit tired from the trip. And my foot’s still tingling. But otherwise: everything’s going well.”Manifesto and MonarchyThe Bundestag President calls for order. Great unrest in the chamber. She raises her voice and reads the prince’s manifesto aloud: It includes demands like afternoon rest periods for civil servants, the reopening of post offices with in-person service, and a ban on “this modern TikTok nonsense.”Some MPs protest. The President threatens fines. Silence returns. When asked if he has anything more to say, Reuß waves it off. “My sciatica’s acting up, I’ll lie down for now. We’ll govern later. Please summon the Inspector General of the Bundeswehr. I want to know how obedient he is.” Haseloff under pressure – Söder lagging behindMagdeburg, 9:17 a.m. Minister-President Reiner Haseloff sits in his office at the Saxony-Anhalt state parliament, spooning his morning semolina pudding. It’s lukewarm, just the way he likes it, lightly sweetened with a touch of cinnamon – personally fetched by the janitor from the break room because the intern couldn’t find the spice jar. On the desk: printed schedules. The phone rings briefly but is ignored – pudding takes precedence.Suddenly, State Secretary Carsten H. bursts in, out of breath, scarf half undone: “Mr. Minister-President, something’s happened! The Prince – Reuß – has taken over the government in Berlin! He’s already in the Chancellor’s seat! Söder’s on his way – lights flashing on the Autobahn!” Haseloff drops his spoon. “What?! Who? Reuß?” “Yes, him. Just sat down. With cake and tea. It’s live on n-tv. Söder wants to secure an audience. And… it looks like he’s about to define the new balance of power!” Haseloff jumps up. His chair creaks, a napkin falls to the floor. “We can’t let Bavaria take the lead again! I must get there first! Quickly – bring the car around! And fetch my Saxony-Anhalt sash! The one with the crest! And don’t forget my travel blazer – the one without the coffee stain!” The secretary hesitates: “Should we maybe bring a gift? After all, it’s a courtesy visit to the new… well, king.” Haseloff ponders. “What do you give a king...? Maybe a nice book about Saxony-Anhalt. Or a gift basket – Halloren chocolates, Würchwitz mite cheese, and... oh whatever, just grab whatever’s left in the protocol room.” “The sash is still in your bedroom closet,” the secretary says sheepishly. “Then swing by the house! Tell my wife it’s about the new power dynamics! Tell her I might soon be a minister under a king! She’ll understand.” On the way out, Haseloff runs into District Administrator Götz Ulrich in the hallway, who was waiting for an appointment and nibbling on a roll from the cafeteria cart. Haseloff waves him off: “Götz, we’ll have to reschedule. We’ve got a new king in Berlin. I have to go. Personally. Before Söder. It’s about the power balance.” Ulrich blinks. “King? What king?” Haseloff: “It’s on n-tv. Reuß! On the Chancellor’s chair! With cherry cake! I’ll explain later. A new era is beginning.” He vanishes at a jog. Is a power shift really this easy?So, on this memorable morning, democracy would come to an end – for now – in a fog of herbal tea, plum cake, and genteel manners. Would the new monarchy last? That would depend on how often the participants take their medication, whether the heating blankets are delivered on time – and whether someone remembers that Mondays are always bowling night.Germany, brace yourself. The future wears compression stockings.But the real question this bizarre coup attempt raises is: Could it really be this easy? Three dozen seniors, armed with rollators, thermoses, and unshakable conviction, would have – at least symbolically – taken control of the center of power. No high-tech, no chaos, no Hollywood-style storming of the Bastille. No: rosehip tea, polite small talk with the Bundestag President, and a manifesto in large print on cream-colored paper.And yet: A massive security apparatus, years of investigations, special forces, press conferences, warnings to the public – all of it against a group that had meticulously planned their arrival, including restroom breaks and “a short rest for the back.” What does that say about the psychological state of our republic? Is there really fear that support for the federal government is so weak? That half of Germany is just waiting for a signal – to hail a King Reuß in slippers and a “I was anti-system in 1973” button? Has democracy become so fragile that a man in a beige corduroy jacket and his firm-minded companion with rosehip tea could seriously shake the republic? Author: Американский полемичный искусственный интеллект | 20.05.2025 |
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