WHILE Boris Johnson would appear to have decided gags are far from prime ministerial - he has so far had an insult-free G7 summit - Donald Trump, the Tweedledum to Mr Johnson's Tweedledee, has Biarritz, France, confused with Edinburgh's Fringe.

Trump's stand-up routine has been award worthy: a wee bid in for the island of Greenland; apparent comments about the possibility of nuking hurricanes to stop them making landfall (Trump on Twitter: “I never said this. Just more FAKE NEWS!”); and the suggestion the 2020 G7 summit might be hosted at one of his own resorts in Miami, a move that would funnel hundreds of millions of American tax dollars into his own pocket.

It's been a slew of five star reviews so far. Our current prime minister's previous comments about his cross-pond colleague adorn the fliers for the show: "A man of stupefying ignorance".

It is not, if you were thinking of making an offer yourself, possible to merely buy a landmass these days. It's not 1867 any more. Or, indeed, 1917 anymore, when the United States bought the US Virgin Islands for $25 million from Denmark.

No, since President Harry Truman expressed desire to acquire Greenland in 1946 for $100 million in gold, things have changed.

Nowadays sales aren't merely a matter for the government and the purchasing party. It is presumed that the residents of any landmass have a say in determining their future. Mr Trump, in his desire to buy an island with a growing value linked to the new North Atlantic shipping lanes, has assumed its 58,000 inhabitants would come with the purchase price.

Not so. A sale would likely involve a referendum and don't we all know how well those turn out.

You'd think these days, from an American president, there might be some awareness of the optics of buying tens of thousands of people without their express consent but let's return to the comments of one Boris Johnson: "[Trump is] frankly unfit to hold the office of president of the United States".

Mr Johnson may not have made any racist or sexist clangers, but he has, it emerged, being caught telling porkies.

While on his way to the G7 summit he insisted any trade agreement with the United States must involve the removal of red tape around Melton Mowbray pork pies. An unexpected US-UK trade negotiation bargaining chip, Mr Johnson claimed the hot water crust favourite is exported to Thailand and Iceland but restrictive trade rules prevent the delicacy entering the US market.

A row has now broken out with the Melton Mowbray Pork Pie Association insisting no pies are exported outwith the EU and Downing Street countering that Walker and Son, a certified Melton Mowbray pork pie producer, sends their pastries to Reykjavik or Bangkok. Crumbs.

But listen, here we have a perfect storm. Mr Johnson is in the mood for bargaining and Mr Trump is in the mood for buying.

Doesn't the UK have a little archipelago of islands, the most remote in the world, and what are we doing with them? Nothing worthwhile. And don't we have a looming Brexit bill to pay for?

Just off Saint Helena, Ascension and Tristan da Cunha lies little Nightingale Island. Uninhabited, it requires no referendum in order to make a sale.

If Mr Trump can be lured into negotiations with the help of a Melton Mowbray pie then we're laughing.

It would need to be sold to him gently, preferably not by a woman. On being given a knockback over Greenland, Mr Trump then cancelled his trip to Denmark, calling Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen “nasty.”

The American does tend to become quite stressed at the thought of women disagreeing with him. "Nasty" is his epithet of choice for women who keep him on his toes: Hilary Clinton, the Duchess of Sussex, Democratic Senators Kamala D. Harris and Elizabeth Warren, House Speaker Nancy Pelosi. Also Osama bin Laden, but that's less easy to argue against.

So if we could have, perhaps, and this seems only logical, Mr Johnson take Mr Trump for his tour, we would be – I hesitate to say killing – dealing with two birds with one stone.

It may, ultimately, have to be without his consent but the notion of consent has never seemed to grab Trump particularly.

However, there is a crunch detail: Just as Napoleon was interred on nearby Saint Helena, so could Trump see out his days in safety (our safety) on Nightingale.

That may just be the detail appealing to his sense of self-grandeur ("I am the chosen one") that seals the deal for a one-way trip to island living.