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MacTrump Page 5

by Ian Doescher


  That the Republicons avoid through faith:

  They worship their flaw’d shepherds just as long

  As they may call themselves part of the flock.

  There is no middle ground on such a field.

  A certain check against MacTrump requireth

  A better, stronger Democrati Party.

  SENATOR 5

  Hear, hear!

  PROSPEROSI

  —Indeed, it must be done, for we

  Are weaker now than e’er. I lov’d O’Bama,

  I praise him still. I fought beside him through

  Both thick and thin, and brought him victories,

  And still I fear that he fell victim to

  What Machi’velli warn’d destroyeth those

  Who hope to rule by dignified example.

  It is a wickèd world in which we live—

  We’re animated by the seven sins

  As oceans are, too, by the seven seas.

  When he did choose to lead through hope and virtue

  Instead of some keen mix of love and fear,

  O’Bama set himself up for a fall.

  He knew the tools at his disposal, but

  He failed to use them due to principles

  As paralyzing for a politician

  As surgeons operating sans a blade.

  Th’America o’er which he did preside

  Was but a figment of imagination.

  In their true form did our United Fiefdoms

  Elect MacTrump.

  SENATOR 4

  —Then, friends, the nation’s lost.

  SOOTHER

  Not fully. Like the truths to which we cling,

  Our form of government’s design’d to bend.

  The Constitution doth require ambition

  To counteract th’ambition that is flaw’d.

  Let’s use our flaws much more effectively

  Than the Republicons.

  SENATOR 3

  —My friends, behold!

  Methinks I found the message on the wall—

  The one O’Bama hop’d that we would see.

  PROSPEROSI

  I prithee, sister, raise aloft thy torch.

  SENATOR 3

  [reading:] “I’ve sworn upon the altar of my God

  Eternal enmity against all forms

  Of tyranny over the mind of man.”

  So Thomas Jeffersonius did pen

  In 1800, writing to his friend.

  SOOTHER

  How dost thou know this is th’intended message?

  SENATOR 3

  ’Twas th’only one engrav’d upon the wall

  In fewer than one hundred forty char’cters.

  SOOTHER

  If Jeffersonius and our O’Bama

  Are of the selfsame mind as vile MacTrump,

  Then we must make the people hate him more

  Than they hate us.

  SENATOR 1

  —Speak for thyself, thou imp!

  SOOTHER

  ’Tis true that I am hated, as art thou.

  We could fill up a library of books

  Describing why our party loathes MacTrump.

  Recall, it took a man as ruinous

  As George the Lesser for the Democrati

  To galvanize the angry vote that made

  Thee speaker, Lady Prosperosi, yea,

  And let Banquo O’Bama seize the throne.

  SENATOR 4

  That fiend MacTrump us’d our own plan against us!

  He made the people hate our rightful lord

  As much as we despisèd George the Lesser.

  SOOTHER

  Yea. If MacTrump possess’d O’Bama’s brain,

  He would have been a formidable foe.

  Yet fortunately, he was born a fool.

  We must unite—present a common front—

  And watch whilst his kakocracy implodes.

  The Senate for the moment hath been lost,

  And yet the Southern Chamber is in reach.

  What thinkest thou, my fearless hammer maiden?

  PROSPEROSI

  The former president—e’en Gerald Fordham—

  Once said impeachable offenses are

  Whatever a majority of our

  Strong Southern Chamber wishes them to be.

  ALL

  Hear, hear!

  SOOTHER

  —Methinks that solves our mystery.

  McTweet!

  Enter MCTWEET.

  MCTWEET

  —Yes, sir?

  SOOTHER

  —Send thanks to Lord O’Bama.

  MCTWEET

  It shall be done. Shall I include a picture?

  [There is scattered nodding among the group.

  ’Tis well! I shall prepare the iObscura.

  [McTweet runs behind the statue and returns with a large wooden box.

  Good gentles, be aware: a hashtag call’d

  The #WomensMarch is trending as we speak.

  SENATOR 2

  Such sounds familiar to mine ears.

  MCTWEET

  —I’m sure,

  For sev’ral million women shall attend.

  PROSPEROSI

  We must take action in this matter, yea?

  SOOTHER

  Hurrah! They’ll need a leader! ’Twill be fun.

  Who’ll champion their cause?

  [All look at one another in silence.

  —Shall anyone?

  [Exeunt.

  SCENE 5.

  The streets of Washingtown.

  Enter WOMEN marching, shouting, and chanting. Enter PROTESTORS wearing pink Phrygian caps. Behind them enter MARIANNE and JUSTINE carrying protest signs reading “Liberty” and “Justice” respectively. Unlike the other women, Marianne wears a spiked diadem atop her cap and Justine is blindfolded.

  PROTESTORS

  [singing:] Hark the sound of myriad voices,

  Rising in their might.

  ALL

  —In our might!

  PROTESTORS

  [singing:] ’Tis the daughters of the Fiefdoms

  Pleading for the right.

  ALL

  —For the right!

  PROTESTORS

  [singing:] Raise the flag and plant the standard,

  Wave the signal still.

  ALL

  —Wave it still!

  PROTESTORS

  [singing:] Brothers, we must share your freedom,

  Help us, and we will.

  ALL

  —And we will!

  [Marianne and Justine step aside to rouse the protestors.

  MARIANNE

  [to protestors:] Once more unto the streets, women, once more!

  Our joy of liberty is half eclips’d!

  JUSTINE

  Be just, and fear not, sisters. Know your rights!

  MARIANNE

  Make roar, ye lionesses! Show your pride!

  [All roar.

  MARIANNE

  [to Justine:] How art thou faring, sister?

  JUSTINE

  —O, sublime!

  I feel the warmth of souls revitaliz’d

  As if this winter were a summer’s day.

  A million heartbeats drum against my chest

  Whilst countless footfalls quake my every breath.

  I’m hearing songs of hope instead of rage

  And see how this bold march will trigger change,

  For such a proud display could not have come

  Except by justice having been undone.

  MARIANNE<
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  Art thou in jest with me, dear sister?

  JUSTINE

  —Nay!

  My words are true. When justice is besieg’d,

  It rallies noble forces to her aid.

  MARIANNE

  If only I could see with your mind’s eye,

  For I perceive a diff’rent, growing threat

  That all our noble systems fail’d to curb

  And all these sister-soldiers could not stop.

  The law is all but toothless in this land

  Against the criminals who break it through

  The very means that make it. That is how

  We got MacTrump, and that is why I sense

  Whatever course we take cannot depend

  On systems so corrupted from within.

  JUSTINE

  But surely thou canst see how dangerous

  Such sentiments can be. Consider how

  MacTrump ascended to his stolen throne—

  Without experience in government.

  He was a private citizen who spake

  Unto a mob who felt as threaten’d by

  O’Bama as we marchers of MacTrump.

  His liberty is full of threats to all,

  Be they the government or populace.

  MARIANNE

  But how can we support a system so

  Indebted to injustice since its birth,

  To slavery and sexism and war?

  JUSTINE

  Injustice, though within our government,

  Is mended by the selfsame engine that

  Createth it. If thou wouldst see a foul

  Law overturn’d, first see it implemented

  Unto its full extent. The law shall lose.

  MARIANNE

  O, fie! I view our laws as spiders’ webs:

  When any helpless creature stumbles in

  They are ensnar’d anon, whilst larger beasts

  Break through it and escape without a scratch.

  JUSTINE

  ’Tis wherefore spiders make poor senators.

  MARIANNE

  I say the web was broken from the start;

  Our constitution bath’d in vice and greed!

  JUSTINE

  All forms of justice start from something less,

  For justice, sister, is but the composite

  Of wisdom, fortitude, and temperance

  In one harmonious environment.

  Their meaner cousin—horrible injustice—

  Is born of ignorance, of cowardice

  And raw voracity, of unrestrain’d

  Behavior in the awful forms it takes.

  MARIANNE

  Yet such behavior makes us human, yea?

  JUSTINE

  Indeed, which is wherefore I put my faith

  In government oppos’d to none at all.

  What, after all, is government, if not

  The greatest self-reflection that we have

  On human nature? If we all were angels,

  No government would necessary be.

  If angels govern’d us, then neither would

  We have a need for government’s controls.

  MARIANNE

  Yet what of holy faith, my sister sage?

  Those who’d subvert the public liberty

  Have found essential allies in the clergy.

  JUSTINE

  A government design’d to safeguard and

  Perpetuate such liberties does not

  Demand such mercenaries. If it did,

  Such crutches would become its greatest weakness.

  MARIANNE

  Methinks that doth explain a lot.

  JUSTINE

  —It does.

  MARIANNE

  Ha! O, Justine, if we perchance survive

  This tempest with our liberties intact,

  I hope to see thee mistress of its courts.

  JUSTINE

  And should the scales in that direction tip,

  I hope to ever hold on to thine arm

  As I do now, for thou shalt be my sword.

  MARIANNE

  And thou my shield. Best friends, forevermore.

  [They embrace.

  Enter MCTWEET.

  MCTWEET

  [to all:] A brief announcement from the president:

  “All peoples of Mohammadian faith

  In shathole lands are hereby banned reentry.

  Protect the homeland!—hashtag TravelBan.”

  [All gasp.

  PROTESTOR 1

  O, shock! Disgraceful!

  PROTESTOR 2

  —Villainy!

  MARIANNE

  [to McTweet:]       —What’s this?!

  Doth that include the peoples of Algiers?

  [Exit McTweet.

  Ah, curses! We should not have blocked him yet.

  My parents may affected be by this.

  I ne’er may see them! O, what shall I do?

  JUSTINE

  Be steel, my grand colossus! I’m with thee,

  And I will help thee fight this harsh injustice.

  MARIANNE

  Thank you, my sister! I—

  [Marianne looks over the outraged crowd.

  —I need to speak.

  [To protestors:] Is this the legacy we shall pursue,

  To lock the doors on those who’d enter in?

  Was not our country born of refugees,

  Of those who immigrated to this land?

  Were we not guests once, newly hither come?

  Except our native peoples, which of us

  Can look back on our ancestors without

  Observing immigrants in our proud lines?

  Some who did choose to see this brave new world,

  Some fleeing tyranny in other lands,

  Some seiz’d as slaves and forc’d against their will.

  MacTrump and his supporters would deny

  Our history. They claim to hold aloft

  The Founding Fathers as their paragons,

  Yet gladly twist the meaning of their words.

  Religious liberty is promis’d us

  Within the Constitution’s Bill of Rights,

  Not just for Christians white and wealthy, nay—

  For ev’ryone, regardless of which god

  On whom they call, or creed which they believe.

  The songs we sing speak to these liberties:

  “From ev’ry mountainside, let freedom ring!”

  The Statue of our Liberty stands tall

  To welcome all unto our gracious land.

  Remember well the message thereupon,

  Proclaiming this: “Give me your tired, your poor,

  Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,

  The wretchèd refuse of your teeming shore.

  Send these, the homeless, tempest-toss’d to me!”

  [The protestors cheer. Exeunt.

  SCENE 1.

  Inside the White Hold.

  Enter CHORUS.

  CHORUS

  We the people come out of the cold

  As months progress, uncertain and confus’d:

  MacTrump doth exercise a stranglehold

  On presidential powers, often us’d.

  Opponents think, at best, his path’s unclear,

  At worst, that he’s a villain spreading woe.

  Now Desdivanka plans a move severe—

  And sets her sights upon another foe.

  Sir James Dogcomey cometh like a pox—

  He’d dog MacTrump with harsh investigation.

  Yet Desdivanka
, sly as any fox,

  Will ardently protect her father’s station.

  The plots and schemes most rapidly accrue—

  With this, dear friends, beginneth our Act Two.

  [Exit Chorus.

  Enter MACTRUMP.

  MACTRUMP

  The spring hath sprung, yet I’m stuck in the mud.

  It’s been a disappointment through and through;

  E’en daisies are disgusting in my sight.

  They spring up for a moment, full of color,

  Then die the next day, wither’d by decay.

  The floral world is weak and meaningless,

  And bound on ev’ry side by filthy turds.

  Give me, instead, the fields of Mar-Iago:

  The luscious turf made for a manly sport,

  Where even caddies at their work may dream

  Of Cinderella stories on the green,

  Where ne’er a flower doth disrupt the grounds

  Of water features, sand traps, and the rough.

  Ah, Mar-Iago—haven to MacTrumps—

  How I do miss thy verdant, peaceful leas,

  E’en though I travel’d there a fortnight past.

  Perhaps the springtime still may do me well;

  Belike this season’s made for my arising,

  When I, unlike the daffodil or pansy,

  Shall grow into a stronger, manly bud.

  Would that I could remove the wretched snakes

  That slither on my fairway constantly.

  The Democrati losers whine and moan,

  And little better are Republicons—

  Both sides are weak, like flowers to be prun’d,

  And I, MacTrump, prepar’d to trim the hedge.

  I am superior to any bush:

  A mighty golfer I, with hardy roots,

  Who, with his driver, makes a hole in one,

  A firm one-wood beneath my sturdy stump.

  Ha, ha! MacTrump the Stump, a virile rhyme.

  Methinks I am the tee that proudly stood

  As frontispiece to Eden’s eighteenth hole—

  The tee that bore the knowledge of the good

  And of the evil, too. Indeed, I know

  What good is—I am good at being good—

  And evil: I’m so good at being evil

  That I make evil look like something good.

  Enter DAME DESDIVANKA and LORD JARED KUSHREW.

  E’en as the words do tumble from my lips,

  My fav’rite rose in all the world appears:

  Sweet Desdivank’, my blossom and my rosebud.

  DESDIVANKA

  Mine honor’d liege and father most robust,

  My husband and myself have lately talk’d—

  KUSHREW

  The matter, lord, is this—

  DESDIVANKA

  —Dear husband, please;

  The goddess Pallas speaks through silent lips.

 

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