MacTrump

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?