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<
br />
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.