by Ian Doescher
When on the balcony we watch’d the sky.
She did depart, belike in some distress?
Whatever. I have neither time nor wish
To carry her afflictions and mine own.
Still, would I had her bosom here with me…
Enow! I must attempt to sleep once more—
Ye ghosts and phantoms, stay outside the door!
SCENE 1.
In the Oval Tower.
Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS
Disturb’d and fitful nights besiege the realm,
From commoners to senators to kings—
For when MacTrump is seated at the helm,
All worry over what the morrow brings.
Great Fooliani tries to calm the tide,
Yet only steers the ship to stranger seas.
The people, all aboard this sick’ning ride,
Are blown about by ev’ry little breeze.
In anguish doth MacTrump turn to his staff—
The ministers and keen advisors who
Should cut his worries and concerns by half,
And help him smoother waters to pursue.
Upon a stormy ocean sails our ship—
Will it change course, or ’neath the water slip?
Enter VICEROY MICHAEL POUND, LADY KELLEYANNE BOLEYN, SIR MICHAEL POMPEII, and LADY SARAH PUCKABEE. Enter SIR JOHN MACKEELEY with them, calling them all to order. They all hold copies of the New Yorktown Times newspaper.
MACKEELEY
Good gentles, many thanks for coming quickly.
Ye all, no doubt, have seen the letter vicious
About bold President MacTrump within
The pages of the false New Yorktown Times,
From some audacious and suspicious knave
Purporting to be part of the resistance
Inside of the MacTrump administration.
As one who works beside the president,
I made a vow with you, like-minded colleagues,
To thwart the baser parts of his agenda,
And his worst inclinations, yet this letter
Cannot be tolerated in the least!
As aide-de-camp, I’ll root its author out.
POUND
This letter is, in faith, a threat’ning canker
Unto our lodestar President MacTrump.
’Tis not the inquisition looming large,
Or that the country’s bitterly divided,
Or that our party may expect to lose
The Southern Chamber to an opposition
Hellbent upon his downfall. Nay, the problem—
Which even he still doth not fully grasp—
Is that full many of the senior members
Of his administration work with craft
To frustrate portions of his plans and schemes.
We all should know, for we are five of them.
Whoe’er hath writ the letter must, anon,
Show honor—yea, they must resign forthwith.
PUCKABEE
To be clear, Viceroy Pound, sir, ours is not
The popular resistance of the left.
We all desire th’administration to
Succeed and think its many policies
Already make America far safer
And far more prosperous than ’twas before.
POUND
Hear, hear!
KELLEYANNE
—Plusgood!
POMPEII
—I could not more agree.
PUCKABEE
Yet we believe our duty primary
Is to this country, and the president
Continueth to act in such a manner
That may be detrimental to the health
Of our republic noble. Ne’ertheless,
The most atrocious and deceitful coward
Who wrote this piece against the president
Is th’only one complicit in this act.
We five, in faith, do stand united and
Give all support to President MacTrump.
POMPEII
As any of us present understand,
The problem is his amorality.
We who do work with him know he’s not moor’d
To a discernible first principle
That could inform his making of decisions.
Of course, my friends, the letter is not mine.
’Tis no surprise the vile New Yorktown Times,
Which hath attack’d MacTrump relentlessly,
Would print a piece like this one—a disgruntl’d,
Deceptive actor’s word—’tis passing sad.
If one would not obey the chief’s intent,
There is an option singular: to leave.
The media’s attempts to undermine
Our bold administration in this way
Are no less than incredibly disturbing.
KELLEYANNE
’Tis certain our successes come despite
The president’s rare style of leadership,
Which is impetuous and petty, yea—
Both adversarial and ineffective.
Yet I’m not sure the letter even matters—
Thoughtcrimes do flow through the New Yorktown Times
Each day, withal a diff’rent byline or,
In this case, nonbyline. It is unclear
’Twas even written by the White Hold staff.
MACKEELEY
Despite the early whispers in the cab’net
That they might launch a mission to invoke
The twenty-fifth commandment—and begin
A process to remove the president—
None wish’d to start a governmental crisis.
Thus, we will do whate’er we can to steer
Th’administration in the right direction
Until—one way or other—it is over.
If I do hear aright, we are agreed—
Though meetings with the president may veer
Off topic quickly and, then, off the rails,
And he doth sputter rants repetitive,
And his impulsiveness resulteth in
Half-bak’d and ill-inform’d and sometimes reckless
Decisions that must, later, be walk’d back,
And though there literally is no telling
If he may change his ever-shifting mind
One minute to the next—we unsung heroes
Stand proudly and salute our mighty chief,
Maintain our right and proper chain of c’mmand,
And with one voice reject this hateful letter.
ALL
Forsooth!
Enter MACTRUMP, with FOOLIANI at his heel. Others quickly try to hide their newspapers.
MACKEELEY
—Good morning, Master President.
MACTRUMP
Pray, wipe the false smile off thine brown-nos’d face.
MACKEELEY
Beg pardon, sir—
MACTRUMP
[mocking:] —“Beg pardon, sir, beg pardon.”
Well mayst thou beg a pardon of me soon.
[He pulls out a copy of the New Yorktown Times, waving it in MacKeeley’s face.
It is a sorry, scrawny aide-de-camp
Who cannot keep a letter such as this
From being spread around the land entire.
Methought when I did choose a general,
I pick’d a man of strength and leadership,
Yet now ’tis absolutely clear than e’en
My treasurer—who is more dolt than man—
Would do a better job than thou hast done
.
What hast thou done to stop MacMueller, hind?
The inquisition moveth forward like
A rabid bull toward the reddest cape!
MACKEELEY
I have fulfill’d the duties of mine office
Unto the best of my abilities.
MACTRUMP
Then thine abilities are sorely lacking.
PUCKABEE
We shall at once release a statement, sir,
Decrying this foul letter and its author—
MACTRUMP
What good are these, thy statements and thy cries?
Thou standest at the podium an ’twere
A deer who stoppeth ’fore the headlamps’ glow.
The press do frighten thee—thou art no bulwark
Against the rising tide of public scorn.
PUCKABEE
Perhaps we’ll get you on the Pox Network—
A guest appearance would repair this breach.
MACTRUMP
How canst thou place reliance on faux news?
Wouldst thou make this foul situation worse?
The media is naught but thieves and anglers.
POMPEII
Sir, if you would—
MACTRUMP
—Do not begin to speak,
Thou who wouldst take the credit for my good
Relations with the North Korasian leader.
POMPEII
[aside:] Had I not done some swift maneuvering,
The situation dire with King John Ill
Might once have brought the country to a war!
MacTrump, however, cannot hear that truth.
KELLEYANNE
I bid you, Master President, is there
Aught we can do for you? Your temper doth
Appear to be most plusbad presently.
MACTRUMP
Thou wench! Canst thou not stop thy husband’s tongue?
He is the biggest critic that I have.
Where thou shouldst help me, thou dost naught but hurt,
Thou strumpet, sleeping with the enemy!
KELLEYANNE
O, Master President!
MACTRUMP
—’Tis but the truth.
POUND
Pray, sir, be calm. We do but try to help.
MACTRUMP
Et tu, Pound? Thou art worst of all the rest.
First thou didst near abandon me when thou
Didst learn of my distinctive ways with women
Whilst the election was at its high point.
Now thou sitt’st silently in meetings if
The outcome could be thou succeeding me.
[To all:] You all are miserable comforters!
This clown, great Fooliani, could direct
The country with far more success than you.
In sooth, the notion holds a strong allure,
For Fooliani never did me wrong.
’Til further notice, you are all dismiss’d—
I’ll let him rule the White Hold in your place!
Pray, get you gone!
MACKEELEY
[aside to Pompeii:] —The man is mad, ’tis plain!
POMPEII
[aside to MacKeeley:] The third time he hath fir’d us all this month.
[Exeunt all but MacTrump and Fooliani.
FOOLIANI
Last time I saw you clear a room so fast,
’Twas after you had eaten beef sorbet.
MACTRUMP
Come Fooliani, cheer mine angry heart.
Thou ever wert amusing, by my troth.
Dost thou have some smart riddle for to share?
FOOLIANI
In sooth, my whole career hath been a riddle.
Here’s one that shall enlighten your dark mood:
Do you know, nuncle, when a thing’s no thing?
MACTRUMP
If ’tis a thing, then it must be a thing,
Yet if ’tis no thing, it must no thing be.
I cannot solve thy riddle, ’tis too hard.
How can a thing be no thing, Fooliani?
FOOLIANI
When ’tis collusion.
[Fooliani shakes his marotte. Bells jingle.
MACTRUMP
—Speak thou not that word!
I told thee ne’er to say the C-word, knave!
FOOLIANI
Methinks you have misunderstood my wit.
Collusion, sir, is no thing.
MACTRUMP
—Isn’t it?
FOOLIANI
To do a thing illegal is a crime,
And it is said collusion is a crime—
It follows, then, collusion is illegal.
Yet have you ever read a definition
Of that most sly and sneaky word, collusion?
The word may speak of some agreements secret,
Yet do not even spouses share such things?
The meaning doth include cooperation,
Yet is not that a good and worthy thing?
The definition may speak of deceit,
Yet who hath never spake a little lie?
Illegal, though? Show me the dictionary!
If I am wrong, pray throw the book at me.
Collusion’s not illegal, liege. Not if
Old Merriam and Webster have their way.
And if ’tis not illegal, ’tis no crime,
But if ’tis said collusion is a crime,
Yet ’tis no crime, it cancels out itself—
For it cannot be both a crime and no crime!
Thus, like a number that is added to
An equal number, but its negative,
The end result is zero. Do you see?
Collusion is the thing that is no thing.
MACTRUMP
Steady, thou hast a dizzying intellect,
Yet all the same I find thee brilliant. Ha!
Collusion is the thing that is no thing!
FOOLIANI
[singing:] Collusion is the thing that is no thing!
Yea, let our voices ever with it ring,
BOTH
[singing:] Above the mountaintops we gladly sing,
Unto this truth we two shall ever cling,
A better future it doth with it bring,
Shout it unto the peasant and the king,
Tell it to both the lib’rals and right wing—
Collusion is the thing that is no thing!
MACTRUMP
Thou art a balm unto my weary soul,
My thanks, Great Fooliani! Yea, for thou
Hast made me all my hindrances forget.
I’ll make thee my attorney gen’ral yet!
[Exeunt, laughing.
SCENE 2.
In the White Hold.
Enter DAME DESDIVANKA.
DESDIVANKA
The best of plans cannot o’ercome mistakes,
And in the latest instance, they were made.
My machinations sly shall ne’er succeed
When errors do surround me constantly.
MacMueller, stripping me of liberty,
Did have the gall to spy upon me whilst
I spake about the meeting with the Prussians
That, once, my brothers took in Tow’r MacTrump.
He presseth even further on we siblings,
Investigating now the Moskvá Tow’r
We hop’d to build before our father was
The leader of the new world. Out upon’t!
MacMueller is a thorn in each our sides
>
That I would gladly pull out with my teeth.
Alack, the man is well protected, ring’d
With pow’rful friends, attentive to the public,
And expert at his inquisition game.
I may not do to him as I might wish,
But, peradventure, I can close the breach
Within our citadel ere ’tis too late.
And, speaking of mistakes, here come my brothers—
They’ll have a piece of Desdivanka’s mind.
Enter DONNISON and ERICSON.
DONNISON
The word was laurel—
ERICSON
—Nay, ’twas truly yanny!
DESDIVANKA
My brothers, come and talk with me awhile.
ERICSON
Are we in trouble?
DONNISON
—Ericson, poor fool.
Sweet Desdivanka is our loving sister—
She’s not our mother come to scold us. Ha!
“Are we in trouble?” What a childish thought.
Is not that funny, sister?
DESDIVANKA
—I shall take
As many laughs therefrom as thou mayst take
Upon a knife’s point, choke a daw withal.
DONNISON
I chok’d a what?
DESDIVANKA
—O, you two jackanapes!
You are too careless by a hectare’s breadth.
The messages you’re sending through McTweet
Are being intercepted by our foes!
How do you think MacMueller came to know
About the meeting with the Prussians when
We made our stand against Hillaria?
You man-boys need to learn to use your heads—
It is the lump three feet above your arses!
You shall bring Father infamous disgrace,
Dishonor on the family entire,
If you shall never think ere you do act!
DONNISON
O, sister, have we wrong’d our father so?
ERICSON
Apologies aplenty, Desdivanka.
DESDIVANKA
Apologies—fie! Your apologies
Are empty words come forth from empty heads.
’Tis not words of repentance I desire—
You must begin to take bold action to
Redress the wrongs you have, of late, committed,
Thus to reside within our father’s grace.
DONNISON
What shall we do? Pray tell!
DESDIVANKA
—For one, cease all
Communication through the tool McTweet,
Who is a vulture and stool pigeon both,
An albatross tied tightly round your necks!
ERICSON
E’en following the latest hashtag trends?