by Ian Doescher
But I would meet with thee. Alone. At night.”
DESDIVANKA
[aside, hidden:] Two shrewder men than these two pigeon eggs
Would realize that the words are all the same.
Yet these buffoons are so adrift in lust
That copy/paste should suit their simple minds.
ERICSON
Our plan to woo the ladies is not needed—
Behold, they circle round like moths to light!
DONNISON
The gods above have listen’d to our pleas
And, in a trice, have done their very best.
ERICSON
Let’s step aside and answer.
DONNISON
—Yea, at once!
We shall not keep love waiting at the door.
[Donnison and Ericson step away from each other to respond privately. McTweet pulls out two quills from his satchel and hands one to each boy.
Enter SIR ROBERT OF MACMUELLER, aside, flanked by DEAF BEEKEEPERS in black robes. They are hidden and watching the brothers, swinging thuribles that emit smoke.
MACMUELLER
[to beekeepers:] What’s this? Some secret messages are sent?
BEEKEEPER 1
[pointing off:] There may be more where that came from, my master.
MACMUELLER
I see. Let us, then, spy on what’s abuzz.
ERICSON
[writing:] Belovèd creature, I would meet thee soon.
[He hands the message to McTweet, who pretends to pocket it, but carries it to Donnison and delivers it to him. Donnison reads it, delighted, and writes back.
DONNISON
[writing:] Thou art more beautiful than all the world.
[Donnison hands this message to McTweet, who takes it to Ericson. The scene continues in such manner, McTweet passing between the two boys quickly while they are unaware.
ERICSON
[writing:] Nay, thou art even more so, I declare.
DONNISON
[writing:] Where shall we meet?
ERICSON
[writing:] —Belike the Tow’r MacTrump?
DONNISON
[writing:] A worthy place for romance, by my troth.
ERICSON
[writing:] Methinks it is the perfect place to meet
When one would be discreet and secretive.
DONNISON
[writing:] I cannot wait to be discreet with thee.
ERICSON
[writing:] I will take off thy clothes with utmost speed.
DONNISON
[writing:] O darling, I do burn with primal lust.
ERICSON
[writing:] Shall I send thee a picture, which shall whet
Thy hearty appetite for carnal pleasures?
DONNISON
[writing:] Most gladly would I view it, by my troth,
Yet, sadly, should not through this messenger,
For, I admit, my father frequents him.
ERICSON
[writing:] O, ’tis no cause for shame, my life, my love—
My father also hath me on his plan.
DONNISON
[writing:] This day shall live forever in my heart—
The day thou didst slide into my DMs.
ERICSON
[writing:] Let us meet soon. Tonight. At eight o’clock?
DONNISON
[writing:] The Tow’r MacTrump! I’ll thither fly on wings.
ERICSON
[writing:] Farewell for now, my lovely, wondrous one!
MCTWEET
[aside, panting:] Exhausting work, to catch two birds at once!
[Exit McTweet. Donnison and Ericson reconvene.
DONNISON
How goes it?
ERICSON
—Better than I could expect!
DONNISON
For me as well.
ERICSON
—Indeed?
DONNISON
—We meet tonight!
ERICSON
Huzzah! So shall I with my lady, too!
DONNISON
We are the most deserving men I know.
ERICSON
This could not happen to two better men.
DONNISON
Let’s go have lunch to celebrate this day.
Love makes me hungry for some mead.
ERICSON
—Lead on!
[Exeunt Donnison and Ericson. Desdivanka steps out of hiding.
DESDIVANKA
Ha! This was better than I could imagine!
Were ever there such fools as my two brothers?
Though I have plots and intrigues far more vital,
I’m certain I’ve nipp’d this one in the bud.
I shall make way to Tow’r MacTrump tonight
To see these lovesick blockheads hang their heads
When they see neither woman doth appear.
Not since the Prussians met us secretly
To talk about Hillaria have I
Been so excited for a meeting there!
[Exit Desdivanka. MacMueller steps out of hiding.
MACMUELLER
From wicked ways a secret doth arise—
From humor shall be born humility.
A secret meeting with the Prussians, eh?
For some discussion of Hillaria?
These matters I shall swiftly follow up.
It is my priv’lege to investigate,
To strive for justice and protect our nation.
Our doctrine I pursue most heartily:
Fidelity, brav’ry, integrity.
[Exeunt MacMueller and beekeepers.
SCENE 1.
In the Oval Tower.
Enter CHORUS.
CHORUS
Time trips along as though the state were drunk
And fumbling home along a darken’d road.
MacMueller, like a solitary monk,
Works quietly beneath a mounting load.
Our play’s too short to hold the vast expanse
And share the many tales that would enthrall—
To speak of Macroon, minister of France,
Or tell of Scarymucci’s rise and fall.
Instead, once more our history must jump:
A bright new year hath dawn’d upon the land,
With new threats rising for the bold MacTrump—
Against his bold opponents, shall he stand?
If this quick tempo seemeth unforgiving,
Remember: ’twas far harder in the living.
[Exit Chorus.
Enter DOCTOR PINO ENOS.
ENOS
Wouldst thou be cur’d of all infirmities?
Wouldst stand aright where others slouch and fade?
Wouldst be erect where other men are limp?
Wouldst be prepar’d for ev’rything and nothing?
Then, see the Enos doctor, that is me!
I’ll give thee purple pills for potency,
I’ll suck the bile from thee to give thee vigor,
I’ll bleed thy body ’til thy snake is drain’d,
To make thy bones more strong and straight and stout!
The Enos doctor worketh miracles
For mighty men—and sometimes women, too!
E’en now, I wait upon my lord MacTrump,
Who sees the Enos doctor frequently
To guarantee his flag doth fly full mast.
Enter MACTRUMP with various ATTENDANTS.
MACTRUMP
Pray, make this speedy. I have not all day.
ENOS
&
nbsp; Holla, sir. I’ll examine you anon.
[Doctor Enos uses calipers to measure MacTrump’s belly.
A girth befitting such a paragon,
For as the stomach grows, so grows the myth—
Circumf’rence is the measure of the great,
Be they Magellan or Copernicus.
Not e’en our largest bygone president,
Lord Falstaft, was as great as you are, sir.
[Doctor Enos uses an ear trumpet to listen to MacTrump’s heart.
The tick and tock of clockwork excellence—
Your heart could build a border wall itself
And let Mexitlán pay the doctor’s fee.
[Doctor Enos places his hand on top of MacTrump’s head.
A pate of pure perfection, by my troth—
The presidential brain far larger than
The simpler minds that whine and gripe and moan
For not possessing such a proud, thick skull.
Say, sir, how do you feel?
MACTRUMP
—Fine.
ENOS
—Fine, forsooth—
No fitter frame or fairer face we’ll find!
I do pronounce you, sir, in perfect health—
A specimen of human flawlessness.
Alas, the leeches I administer’d
All died of grief, for thy cholesterol
Did fill their sucking bellies with delight!
MACTRUMP
Such was my expectation. [Calling:] Ho, McTweet!
[To Enos:] Thou mayst depart—tell all what thou hast seen.
Speak freely of my genes incredible,
Employing the word very many times.
[Quietly:] And if thou meetest Nurse Sildenafil,
I bid thee send her to me urgently.
[Exit Doctor Enos.
Now I shall tell the world how fit I am—
It is not boasting if ’tis true. [Calling:] McTweet!
Enter MCTWEET.
MCTWEET
You holler’d for me?
MACTRUMP
—Give me thy report:
Who hath said naughty things of me today?
MCTWEET King Stephen, Madame Rowlinge, Lady Warwick—
These all were critical—
MACTRUMP
—Pray, block their access.
I would not grant them leave to read my words.
MCTWEET
Done.
MACTRUMP
—Then post in a trice: “The doctor sayeth
Ne’er has there been a man who doth enjoy
Such health and wealth and nat’ral skin and hair.”
Be sure thou usest exclamation point
And whole words form’d in letters capital.
Add thou, as well, one of thy hashbrown bags.
MCTWEET
A hashtag, sir?
MACTRUMP
—Whatever. Get thee hence.
MCTWEET
Ere I depart, I’ve some few words for you.
MACTRUMP
A message from McTweet? This bodes not well.
What wouldst thou say? I bid thee, be direct.
MCTWEET
Two things: first, there hath been another shooting.
Shall I send forth your thoughts and pray’rs, my liege?
MACTRUMP
Indeed, and make it heartfelt, or whatever.
MCTWEET
It shall be done. Now to the second matter:
It is a message from a Tempest Daniels,
A woman who declares she knows you well.
An actress, I have gather’d, of some note.
[Aside:] Though not on any stage that I have seen,
For I have content filters most robust.
MACTRUMP
Er, Tempest Daniels. Well, what is her missive?
MCTWEET
She’d speak with thee anon.
MACTRUMP
—’Tis all?
MCTWEET
—Indeed.
Farewell. Your post I shall dispatch with care.
[Exit McTweet.
MACTRUMP
[to attendants:] Be gone, I need a moment’s privacy.
[Exeunt attendants.
O, shall my past return to work me woe?
Cannot what’s past be past since it hath pass’d?
It is no more! It cannot be again.
The past hath no place in the present time,
Nor in the future—past is past is past.
How, then, doth it e’er rear its gruesome head?
I see a thing I like and I do take it.
I see a thing I want and I do own it.
’Tis appetite and nothing more nor less,
An ordinary, healthy thirst for pleasure.
’Tis nature! Wherefore should it do me harm?
Though I am certain I did fool McTweet,
Of course I do remember Tempest Daniels—
Yea, well do I recall each inch of her,
For, like so many ladies, she desir’d
To know MacTrump most intimately. Ha!
She sigh’d for my attention and did groan
For mine embrace, like all the female hordes.
The hordes, the whores, ’tis all the same to me.
She pin’d for me and long’d for me like one
So deep in love she would, most likely, drown.
Then Tempest—nay, I’ll call her only Horseface—
Display’d her colors true once we did part,
Demanding compensation for her silence.
How like a woman, quick to mete revenge
When summer’s love turns to a wintry chill.
Past, it seems I must deal with thee again.
Enter MICHAEL LACÖHEN.
LACÖHEN
My lord! Long time, no seeing—bada bing!
You got some problems you need fixing, sir?
MACTRUMP
Ah, Michael, just thy voice brings cool relief.
Remember Tempest Daniels?
LACÖHEN
—Yea, I do—
I never met a pair that I forgot.
MACTRUMP
Did we not pay her?
LACÖHEN
—We did so indeed—
One hundred forty thousand ducats, sir.
MACTRUMP
One hundred forty! Think’st thou I am rich?
LACÖHEN
Nay, sir. I know it.
MACTRUMP
—Never mind. It seems
She wanteth something more.
LACÖHEN
—And more and more—
’Twas ever thus among unruly ladies.
Methinks ’tis wherefore it’s call’d blackmail, sir—
The blackest hearts attack the blameless males.
MACTRUMP
Canst fix it? Make it swiftly go away?
The check, as they do say, is in the mail.
LACÖHEN
I’ll see what I can do, sir. Bada boom!
[Exit LaCöhen.
MACTRUMP
Beset on ev’ry side by enemies,
Now ladies, too, do turn their beaks on me.
Would that they all were kind as Desdivanka!
Yet nay, this Horseface and her broody kind
Are all the same, fowls looking for a cock.
If I am to be peck’d by ev’ry hen,
I’ll need the Enos doctor once again.
[Exit.
SCENE 2.
Two months later. A presidential palace in Helsingfort.
Enter MACTRUMP and JOURNALISTS into a great hall. All walk with haste.
JOURNALIST 1
Please, Master President, I bid you, speak:
Is’t true you tried to thwart the Deaf Beehive’s
Investigation into Prussian meddling
When you abruptly sack’d Sir James Dogcomey?
MACTRUMP
A stupid question. Thou art stupid, too,
For ne’er have I obstructed anything!
There definitely hath been no obstruction.
Yet even if there were, my wise attorney
Doth counsel that obstruction is no crime.
JOURNALIST 2
You mean attorney Michael LaCöhen,
Whose home and offices were raided by
The Deaf Beehive last month?
MACTRUMP
—O, nay. Not him.
I mean my new attorney who comes hither.
[All gasp.
JOURNALIST 3
He’s here? Great Fooliani?
MACTRUMP
—Even he.
Fanfare. Enter FOOLIANI in a jester’s costume bedecked with jingling bells.
FOOLIANI
[to journalists:] Take heed! All my complicit client says
Is counterfactu’lly correct, indeed.
There hath been no collusion rank betwixt
The Prussian government and those key players
In the MacTrump campaign. [Aside:] Yea, I should know,
For I reviewèd each illegal act
His campaign undertook! [To journalists:] The president
Hath brought me here, this crisis to defuse,
Ere it becomes a circus most diffuse.
[Fooliani shakes his marotte. Bells jingle.
MACTRUMP
[to Fooliani:] Canst thou respond to all these losers’ queries?
I fain would use the bathroom hastily.
FOOLIANI
[to MacTrump:] You shall not miss the door, I’ll warrant, sir.
I bang’d my giant head upon it now.
[Bells jingle. Exit MacTrump.
[To journalists:] As I began to say to ye, my client
Is innocent of charges of collusion,
Conspiracy so to commit collusion,
And other crimes we ne’er shall know about
For he is innocent of them. In sooth,
If he, my client, guilty were of aught,
’Tis being innocent. If that’s a crime,
I’ll lead the chorus chanting, “Lock him up!”
JOURNALIST 3
Great Fooliani, wherefore did MacTrump
Call European allies losers since
They owe th’United Fiefdoms heaps of money?
