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    MacTrump

    Page 9
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    FOOLIANI

      ’Tis leadership! Is’t not? Our nation spent

      A fortune keeping allies safe for decades.

      ’Tis far past time they paid us for it! Ha!

      JOURNALIST 1

      Great Fooliani, doth the late indictment

      Of President MacTrump’s campaign chair Paulus

      Romanafort, on charges of conspiracy,

      Involve aught that MacTrump will speak about

      In private with Putain this afternoon?

      FOOLIANI

      Dost thou have any notion of the number

      Of chairs in that campaign? ’Twas dozens. More!

      Shall we arrest the furniture because

      MacTrump the Junior innocently sat

      With Prussian envoys at a table meeting?

      If so, MacMueller peradventure would

      Be call’d t’arrest MacTrump’s own rug as well!

      JOURNALIST 3

      Great Fooliani, what of the indictment

      Of Prussian military bureaucrats

      For filching Democrati messages?

      FOOLIANI

      If ’twere, in fact, illegal, Lord MacTrump

      Would not have ask’d the Prussian government

      To steal more of them during the campaign.

      He is no fool. ’Tis wherefore he hir’d me!

      JOURNALIST 1

      Dost thou, though, hold with President MacTrump’s

      Own comments: that the Democrati Party

      Is fill’d with criminals of poor IQ?

      FOOLIANI

      Of course I do! How soon you folks forget

      That I was once a Democrato, too.

      [Fooliani shakes his marotte. Bells jingle.

      JOURNALIST 3

      What of reports, ongoing, of the children

      Who, near our border, still are lock’d in cages?

      FOOLIANI

      I never met a child who did not love

      To visit creatures in menageries.

      Our southern compound where the children wait

      Is but a trial full-immersion zoo.

      JOURNALIST 3

      Doth th’administration verily consider

      The fam’lies concentrated in these camps

      Part of a zoo?

      FOOLIANI

      —Of course! There shall be such

      Across the land, with many tickets sold.

      They may make better profit than our prisons!

      JOURNALIST 2

      Why did MacTrump sack herald Spicero?

      FOOLIANI

      Because he—Spicero—became a shrub

      And like a tree he had to leaf anon.

      Enter MACTRUMP as a toilet is heard flushing.

      MACTRUMP

      [aside to Fooliani:] My God, ’twas brutal.

      FOOLIANI

      [aside to MacTrump:]  —Nay, ’twas leadership.

      MACTRUMP

      It was. Great Fooliani, prithee show

      These clowns the door on which thou struck’st thyself.

      FOOLIANI

      I’ll show them with mine own head. Follow me!

      [Fooliani exits, charging headfirst through the doors.

      JOURNALIST 1

      Yet, Master President, will you discuss

      Aught of the bold MacMueller inquisition

      Withal the Prussian czar this afternoon?

      JOURNALIST 2

      Will your interpreter be present there?

      JOURNALIST 3

      Why did you hire the jester Fooliani?

      JOURNALIST 1

      What is your comment, sir, about Flynnaldo,

      Who recently hath giv’n a guilty plea

      Because he lied unto the Deaf Beehive?

      MACTRUMP

      You pesky peasants, I’ve no time for this!

      I shall anon meet my most powerful

      And vital ally in the world! Get hence!

      [MacTrump shoos the journalists out the door. Exeunt journalists.

      O, I am sorely vex’d. My bowels feel

      An ’twere a cannon factory in flames.

      [Calling:] McTweet!

      Enter MCTWEET.

      MCTWEET

      —Methought I was the cuckoo here.

      MACTRUMP

      Be quiet, bird beak. Tell thy featherbrains…

      [McTweet picks up his quill and starts writing.

      Full many calls from allies I’ve receiv’d,

      All thanking me for bringing them together

      To focus them upon the gold they owe.

      It truly was a summit most superb,

      Which was inaccurately cover’d by

      Much of the media ringmasters false.

      Our proud alliance is both strong and rich!

      Old lord O’Bama thought Hillaria

      Was bound to win th’election easily—

      Thus, when the Deaf Beehive sought to pursue

      The Prussian meddling, he did not allow’t.

      ’Twas no big deal and he did naught about it.

      When I prevail’d, a big deal it became,

      Thus prompting the rigg’d Witch Hunt by Z’Strzok!

      MCTWEET

      [aside:] Now witches have been added to the plot?

      This play’s American, not Scottish, yea?

      Are we in Helsingfort or Salem now?

      MACTRUMP

      Relationship with Prussia ne’er was worse

      Than now ’tis, thanks to years of foolishness,

      Stupidity, and, now, the rigg’d Witch Hunt!

      MCTWEET

      Shall that be ev’rything, my lord?

      MACTRUMP

      —Not yet.

      How long until Putain arriveth here?

      MCTWEET

      I know not, sir. The news reports that he

      Should have arriv’d an hour ago at least.

      MACTRUMP

      O. Prithee, wilt thou stay until he comes?

      [McTweet sticks his quill in his cap and leaps into a chair.

      MCTWEET

      I am on standby, Lord MacTrump!

      MACTRUMP

      —My thanks.

      [Time passes. A clock ticks noisily. MacTrump looks about the room.

      What kind of palace is this sad excuse?

      ’Tis stark and empty. Where’s the fancy swag?

      The bathroom fixtures, tubs, and golden showers?

      The sculptures and the prints of naked ladies?

      MCTWEET

      Would you like me to ask your followers?

      MACTRUMP

      Nay. I’d not have them see me presently.

      MCTWEET

      No pictures, then?

      MACTRUMP

      —Nay, absolutely none!

      The main doors to the room open. Enter VLAD PUTAIN, Czar of the Prussian Federation, and his INTERPRETER.

      [To McTweet:] Be gone.

      MCTWEET

      —With fluttering of wings and feathers.

      [Exit McTweet.

      MACTRUMP

      How are you, Comrade Vlad? Your mien looks well!

      Did you get those MacTrump steaks I did send?

      They’re from 2007. A good year!

      [MacTrump extends a hand, but Putain unbuttons his coat and sits. MacTrump follows suit. Putain speaks in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The czar apologizeth heartily

      For causing you to wait so long, my lord.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] ’Tis nothing, by my troth. I was admiring

      The awe-inspiring artwork in th
    is palace.

      A most fine palace ’tis. And very yuge.

      Would that we had such palaces within

      Our own United Fiefdoms. I once tried

      To build one in New Yorktown, but they would

      Not let me do so. Such a shame. I wanted—

      [Putain speaks in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The czar doth share your fondness for fine art

      And architecture. He says that this hall

      Was fashion’d in the manner Romanesque.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] Is that what this is? I love Romanesque.

      ’Tis certainly my favorite type of building.

      [The interpreter translates. Putain smiles and responds in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The president declares he was mistaken.

      He says this hall is in Gothic style,

      Which is why it is callèd Gothic Hall.

      [MacTrump nods, rebuffed.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] We all make our mistakes. Yea, even you.

      [The interpreter translates this. Putain’s smile disappears. He replies in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The president says ’twas a simple joke.

      MACTRUMP

      O. Is that what he meant? Well, ha! A-ha!

      [MacTrump laughs uneasily.

      Ha-ha, ha, ha-ha! [He clears his throat.] Thanks, I love a joke.

      [Putain speaks in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The czar desires to be upfront with you,

      My Lord MacTrump. Your troubl’d presidency

      Doth not proceed at all as we had plann’d.

      Your European allies have united

      Against your rule. Your popularity

      Is plummeting at home and overseas.

      Your frail administration is a wreck.

      And you, the czar is saddened to report,

      Are artful in the realm political

      As an orangutan with feces is.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] What, Vlad, did you expect? The people you

      Told me to fill my staff with prov’d but losers.

      That surgeon guy believes in unicorns.

      My education secretary thinks

      The first man on the moon was made of cheese.

      The Gargamiller nut is barely human.

      And O, that dumb Secessions character?

      You Prussians pick’d the wrong horse for your bet!

      Why did you recommend him at the start?

      Not only did we lose his Senate seat,

      But he did naught to stop MacMueller’s work!

      ’Tis nearly like you wanted me to fail.

      [Putain and his interpreter discuss.

      INTERPRETER

      The president doth ask if you will need

      Assistance in preventing Democrati

      Takeovers in your parliament and states.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] Methinks ’tis not a good idea just now.

      Can you help me more slyly than before?

      I cannot drain my lizard sans a lawsuit

      O’er what I did some thirty years ago.

      They stop at naught, e’en interviewing girlfriends,

      Exploring business deals that I have made,

      And placing half my campaign staff in jail.

      The whole thing is a nightmare in th’extreme!

      If you could cause Republicons to win

      In each election, ’twould be marvelous.

      Yet it must be believable, forsooth.

      Believe me, I know how the maggots work.

      ’Tis like a good casino: you must make

      It seem like any coxcomb hath a chance.

      If not, the sorry circus of a show

      Will finish belly-up—like my casinos.

      [Putain and his interpreter speak privately.

      Please, sirs, include me in the conversation.

      For all that glitters, I am President

      Of the United Fiefdoms, verily—

      Yea, the most pow’rful man in all the world.

      O, can you understand? My visage will

      Be someday printed on a dollar bill—

      Some new denomination wondrous large—

      The selfsame UF dollar Prussia can

      But dream of having! Listen to me, Vlad,

      I do not care how many videos

      You have of me with double-crossing harlots.

      If you desire your half of Europe back,

      You need my help far more than I need you!

      Be reasonable. I have suffer’d plenty!

      [Putain speaks in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      The mighty czar declareth he believes

      You know not suffering, and never will.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] Is this another of your Prussian jokes?

      I have not suffer’d? Ha! My father gave me

      A mere one million dollars to begin.

      Do you not comprehend how meager ’tis?

      Do you but realize how hard I did fight

      To change that pittance to a global empire?

      [Putain speaks in Prussian.

      INTERPRETER

      No lies, my Lord MacTrump. You did receive

      More than four hundred million from your father,

      And somehow squander’d ev’ry cent and more.

      MACTRUMP

      [to Putain:] Bah! One must money spend to money make!

      Bethink you of the many people I

      Paid off! The doctors, lawyers, governors,

      Thugs, plastic surgeons, builders, mistresses!

      When I put on my face, it costs a fortune.

      My hair? Nay, prithee, do not get me started.

      I am surrounded constantly by those

      Who owe me money, more who owe me favors,

      Yet on the instant I make headlines for

      Some innocent and meaningless mistake,

      They happily would stuff me like a buck.

      The people in the White Hold hate me so.

      Nobody trusteth me, not e’en my wives.

      They who do work for me despise my soul.

      I have not mov’d my bowels in three days,

      And I can barely sleep a wink at night.

      If it appears to you I am not suff’ring,

      Mayhap it is because I’m best at it!

      I’ve suffer’d more than you shall ever know—

      Yet if you are not careful, you may learn!

      [Silence. Putain nods to his interpreter, who exits. Putain then rises from his chair.

      PUTAIN

      Dorogoy droog, attend: if I may say,

      I must respectf’lly disagree with thee.

      Thou dost not know what suff’ring is, MacTrump,

      For suffering is not made for the weak.

      Thou art misled, for suff’ring makes one stronger.

      To suffer is to be invaded by

      Germanic hordes, to see thy homeland sweet

      Turn to a battlefield for centuries.

      To suffer’s to watch children starve to death

      Because of thy resolve to fight off foes.

      To suffer is to know thy country could

      Break any minute into warring states.

      To suffer’s to see fam’lies torn apart

      Whilst children slowly waste away in cages,

      As they do now along thy southern border.

      To suffer is what separates the strong

      From those incapable of their survival.

      This is, then, why I fear thy D
    emocrati

      Foes are more powerful than thou dost think;

      They’ve suffer’d more than thou and all thy droogs.

      Thou wilt ne’er suffer quite as much as they;

      Thy country simply doth not work that way.

      MACTRUMP

      Pray, do not worry o’er those losers, Vlad.

      You have, I’ll warrant, no idea how hard

      It is for them to even vote right now.

      Our voter fraud campaign? ’Tis beautiful.

      The troll who’s making changes to the census

      Shall buy us ten more years in charge at least.

      MacTuttle, Pubis, and our governors

      Are working to make Democrati votes

      Far harder to be plac’d than e’er before.

      ’Tis passing yuge. You’ll not believe your eyes

      ’Tis something like a last stand, by my troth.

      And if we win this battle, we shall be

      In charge of ev’rything we e’er could want.

      PUTAIN

      Except MacMueller’s inquisition, da?

      MACTRUMP

      Yet in my country, Vlad, it matters not

      Exactly how one wins at anything.

      ’Tis all a spectacle, a fantasy.

      All that doth matter is that one doth win.

      If one but wins, ’tis only the beginning.

      [Putain rises.

      PUTAIN

      Then win.

      MACTRUMP

      —We shall. There shall be so much winning.

      [Exeunt.

      SCENE 3.

      Senator MacTuttle’s suite in the Northern Chamber of Parliament.

      Enter SENATOR MITCH MACTUTTLE, playing a solitary game of cards behind his desk. Enter his SECRETARY.

      SECRETARY

      Forgive th’intrusion, Senator MacTuttle—

      The Democrati leaders have arriv’d.

      MACTUTTLE

      My thanks. I pray, remove the furniture.

      [The secretary bows and begins removing all the chairs from MacTuttle’s office, save the senator’s. The last item removed is a long sofa, which the secretary shoves out the door.

      SECRETARY

      Will that be all, sir?

      MACTUTTLE

      —Yea. Please send them in.

      [Exit secretary. MacTuttle collects his cards and pockets them.

      Enter LADY NANCY PROSPEROSI and SENATOR CHARLES SOOTHER.

      SOOTHER

      Good afternoon, fair Senator MacTuttle.

      [MacTuttle rises.

      MACTUTTLE

      [to Soother:] Minor’ty Leader. [To Prosperosi:] Ma’am.

      PROSPEROSI

      [correcting:]        —’Tis Madam Leader.

      MACTUTTLE

      Of course. [Smiling:] I bid you, sit ye down awhile.

      [MacTuttle sits as Prosperosi and Soother look around the office.

     


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