Around the statue of William Wallace, long a meeting place for Aberdeen's nonconformists, hundreds begin to gather, ready to rage.
Signs at the ready, they shout in anger as the peaceful summer air is rent with the passion of their voices.
Yet, the object of their ire is 200 miles away at his Ayrshire golf course, and unless he’s tracking the goings-on in the Granite City via The Herald's live blog, he probably doesn’t even know they’ve assembled.
I find the rendezvous point somewhat ironic, given the American president's admiration of Wallace's on-screen portrayal by Aussie Mel Gibson in 1995’s Braveheart, which he once called “the greatest film I’ve ever seen.”
The surrounding gardens are teeming with police officers, of course. More than I’ve ever seen, despite half a decade in Aberdeen.
He clutches a poster board in his right hand, emblazoned with a design of his own making - Mr Trump, orange and yellow, munching on a brown dog.
“Stop eating dogs Donald,” the sign reads.
“Some folks didn’t get this,” he says. “It’s about the debate.”
Ah yes. One of Mr Trump’s greatest hits, when he echoed a right-wing conspiracy theory accusing Haitian immigrants of cooking up dogs and cats for use in Satanic rituals.
Mr Trump himself is on hand, portrayed as the Great Deceiver, thanks to the artistry of Michael Forbes, a self-proclaimed ‘pop surrealist’ and longtime critic of the president.
“Hope yer next jobby is a hedgehog,” the cardboard cutout reads.
“I’ve been protesting Trump since 2006,” Mr Forbes tells me. “As a pop artist, I’ve done various anti-Trump paintings. I’ve had this devil head Trump sign for a while.
“I’m against everything Trump stands for. He’s anti-abortion, and is playing with the world's economy for the benefit of his rich friends.”
The words of the late Ms Godley, who made headlines around the world for her crass greeting in 2016, were echoed on many handmade signs on Saturday.
“Trump is still a c***,” read one creative re-interpretation of the source material.
Speaker after speaker from the Scottish left took to the stage, pillorying Mr Trump’s right-wing politics, on issues ranging from disabled rights and the LGBTQ community to wars in Ukraine and Gaza.
She tells the assembled faithful: “Thank you so much for turning out, and for being here to express your disgust that we are once again supposedly welcoming a fascist to our soil. We are here to stand in solidarity not only against Trump but against everything he and his politics stands for.
“We are here to stand against his obliteration of human rights, of the rights of LGBTQIA plus people, of the rights of people on Medicaid, of the rights of people in Palestine. We say that Trump is not welcome here.”
Ms Chapman, who receives a robust round of applause, goes on to slam the Scottish Government for agreeing to provide £180,000 of public money to support the NEXO Championship at Mr Trump’s Balmedie golf course.
She says: “We should not be giving hundreds of thousands of pounds to Trump's golf course. Not a single penny should be being spent on a man we know to be a racist, sexist, a misogynist and a criminal.
"None of our taxpayer money should be being spent on Trump or his golf course."
Mr Trump is not a popular figure among the people of this isle, despite his Scottish heritage. A recent Ipsos survey found that 71% of Scots hold an unfavourable opinion of the American president.
In the North East, much of that antipathy stems from his long battle to build a golf course on top of protected sand beaches at Balmedie, nine miles north of Aberdeen City Centre.
Mr Trump purchased the Menie Estate in 2006, promising to employ hundreds by way of a new hotel and scores of vacation homes.
But twenty years later, those pledges have been lacking, and for many Aberdonians, the lasting image of the business mogul was his relentless campaign to force locals to sell their homes to make way for “the world’s best golf course.”
He infamously accused farmer Michael Forbes of living in a ‘pig-like environment’, a claim which Mr Forbes, and his mother, Molly, who lived in a mobile home nearby, dismissed as malicious falsehood.
The elder Forbes, then in her mid-80s, responded with a large banner draped over her hen shed, which read: “Trump the Greatest Liar.”
One middle-aged female protester notes: “I’m here because I care about what's happening in the world and I want people to start paying attention because it affects all of us.
“Wherever Trump goes, he spreads animosity. I used to live in America for 20 years and have an American husband. It’s excruciating to see what’s happening.”
Her companion adds: “I’m here because of what’s happening in Gaza. I wanted to take up some space and say that Scotland does not support this.”
Of course, by accident of birth, Mr Trump is my fellow countryman. We don't share much beyond that, other than a propensity to vacation along the Jersey Shore.
While my American accent has softened and my Scots vocabulary has expanded over the years, sometimes, a keen-eared Glaswegian or Aberdonian will start in on me.
“You don’t sound like you’re from here, where’s that accent from,” they’ll inquire.
“I’m an American, from New Jersey on the east coast," I'll explain sheepishly. “It’s near New York.”
But it’s the next question which stops me in my tracks.
“So,” they’ll ask with a grin, “What do you think about Trump?”
I’ll usually say something about not being a big fan, eager to move the conversation forward, away from the figure, who, like an embarrassing uncle sat pissed in the corner, seems to dominate most conversations.
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So, it was with this aversion to the most powerful man in the world that I stood amidst the huddled masses in Union Terrace Gardens on Saturday afternoon.
I had heard that a man with a “United States apology desk" was supposed to attend, but despite my best efforts, I was unable to track down my fellow countryman to atone for our nation’s sins.
And while the crowd did not lack in vigour, I sensed more than a whiff of weariness amidst the flags and posterboard.
For, as many a speaker said (and there were… many), Mr Trump is not a unique figure. A phenomenon, perhaps, in terms of media presence and combustibility, but nothing special - only powerful and cruel.
He serves as a symbol of the failure of western liberalism, based on the assumption that people are good-hearted citizens who care about the welfare of their fellow men and women.
Yet, these protestors contend, the world is darker than the political elite would have you believe.
And the battle for a just future is just beginning.
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