MW

 

INNER TRUMP:  So… you went to Arlington National Cemetery for a disgraceful photo op?

TRUMP:  I was invited by some of the families of the thirteen soldiers who died during the Afghanistan pullout.   I was there to honor their scarifice.

INNER TRUMP:  But you reportedly said that soldiers who die in battle were “losers and suckers” right?

TRUMP:  Yes, but I took flowers and smiled, and gave a big thumbs up at the grave sight, so you know I was sincere in my transparent show of exploitative insensitivity.  I also brought donuts.

INNER TRUMP:  That hardly makes what you did right.

TRUMP:  Hey, you’d be surprised how much damage control a dozen crullers can do.

INNER TRUMP:  It’s a violation of federal law to photograph, video, film, etc, around the graves of service members.

TRUMP:  Really, oh… I didn’t know that.

INNER TRUMP:  You know that very well.  You also know that you can’t use any photographs or video footage, etc., for campaign purposes.  Again, you think you’re above the law.

TRUMP:  Hey, the video crew just happened to be at the cemetery when I came in with my flowers, and it was all just coincidental.

INNER TRUMP:  It was a planned, campaign publicity stunt.

TRUMP:   It was not.

INNER TRUMP:  Your Arlington Cemetery footage was posted on TikTok the next day.

TRUMP:  Hey, I brought donuts!

INNER TRUMP:  One of your campaign staffers reportedly shoved a cemetery worker aside, who tried to prevent your crew from taking unauthorized photographs and video in Section 60.

TRUMP:  Not true.  She lost her balance after eating one of the delicious crullers.   Did I mention I bought crullers?  I buy the best crullers.

INNER TUMP:   Once again, you have demonstrated your abject lack of empathy, grace, and basic human decency.

TRUMP:  Once again, you have failed to identify that I really don’t care about your spot on, on point, counterpoint, and observations of me.

INNER TRUMP:  True to form.

TRUMP:  Yes, I always tell the truth.

INNER TRUMP:  You almost never tell the truth.  This incident is especially grievous, because you dodged your own military service with a spurious claim of bones spurs.

TRUMP:  Hey, bone spurs are real thing.

INNER TRUMP:  Honor and respect are also real, but it doesn’t mean you have it.

TRUMP:  I wanted to serve, believe me, but the bone spurs, you know?

INNER TRUMP:  You never wanted to serve your country.  Your bone spurs haven’t prevented you from playing frequent rounds of golf.  Why is that?

TRUMP:  Not sure… but I’m going to put your question to the test this afternoon.

 

 

A REPORTER OFF SCREEN, questions RUDY, the coal mine supervisor.

 

REPORTER:  Sir, can you tell us what happened here?

RUDY:  Canary dead, mine shut down.

REPORTER:  Isn’t this the same mine that was shut down years ago?

RUDY: Yes, in fact, this is the same dead canary from years ago.

REPORTER:  Well, what killed the canary?

RUDY:  Not sure, but from what I’m hearing, it’s because there’s something in the mine that’s spewing dangerous levels of vile, noxious, and toxic gas.

REPORTER:  You mean gaslighting killed the canary?

RUDY:  Yes, apparently, he just couldn’t take it anymore.

REPORTER:  Well, have they found the source of this dangerous gas.

RUDY:  Not yet, but the authorities suspect an old, ancient, orange substance inside the cave walls. Appears to be a combination of brimstone, magma, and MAGA.  And they also suspect millions of red hats made of cotton, polyester, and ignorance are fueling the gas.

REPORTER:  Well, how long will the mine be shuttered?

RUDY:  Not sure.  First we have to locate and then get rid of the source of the toxic gas.  And then, as always, we will have a community yard sale.   And then… we’ll throw the millions of red hats into the fire pit to produce enough energy to burn off the nitrous oxide.  And then when we get the all clear from the EPA, we’ll reopen the mine.   And then… as always… we’ll have another community yard sale.

 

INNER TRUMP: You’re insecure.

TRUMP: I’m the most secure person who’s ever lived.

INNER TRUMP: You’re corrupt.

TRUMP: I”m the most non-corrupt person who’s ever held public office… who’s ever been convicted of 34 felony counts of fraud.

INNER TRUMP: You’re incompetent.

TRUMP:  I’m the most competent person there has ever been… who’s successfully bankrupted three casinos?

INER TRUMP: You’re immoral.

TRUMP:  I’m the most moral person who’s ever taken an oath on a bible… who’s been found liable, in court, for sexual abuse.

INNER TRUMP: You’re bigoted.

TRUMP: I’m the most non-bigoted person on the face of the earth… who doesn’t like people that are darker than the color of gold.

INNER TRUMP: You’re a misogynist.

TRUMP:  I’m not that.  In fact, what ever that is, I’m the most opposite person of that there has even been since the beginning of time.

INNER TRUMP:  You’re a narcissist.

TRUMP:  I only think of others, and never about myself, except on my birthday, and when my bone spurs are flaring up.

INNER TRUMP:  You’re a compulsive, industrial strength, pathological liar.

TRUMP:  That’s a lie!  I’ve never told a lie in my entire life.

INNER TRUMP:  You’re vindictive.

TRUMP:  I’m not vindictive… and if it takes until the end of time, I’ll see that you’re punished for your words!

 

 

SNAIL AUCTIONEER:  Fiiiiiiiiiiiivvvvvvvvvvve… hhhhhhunnnnnnnnnnndreeeeeeeedd… Doooooooooooooooo… Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii… hhhhhhheeeaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr… sixxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx…hhhhhhhhhhunnnnnnnnnn…ddddddrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeed?

BIDDER #5:  One thousand dollars!

SNAIL AUCTIONEER: Onnnnnnnnne… thouuuuuuuuuussssssannnnnd…

BIDDER #5:  Yes, one thousand dollars, sold to me, bidder number five!  That’s it, it’s official, final, done!

SNAIL AUCTIONEER:  Nooooooooooooo… iiiiiiittttt’sssssss… nnnnnnnooottttt…

BIDDER #5:  Dude, we’ve been here for two days!  You’re taking too long to get through the bids.  How did you even get this job?

SNAIL AUCTIONEER:  Dooooooooo… Iiiiiiiiiiiiii… hearrrrrrrrrr…. onnnnneeeee…

WOMAN BIDDER:  No, he’s right, this is taking too long!   I’ve missed my daughter’s middle school and high school graduation since I’ve been here!

BIDDER #7: The cicadas have come and gone… and come back again since we’ve been in here.  Please end this now!

The remaining BIDDERS are all in agreement.

SNAIL AUCTIONEER: ( relents ) Ooooooookaaaaaaayyyy… sooooooldddddd!

The entire room is relieved.

BIDDER #5:  Thank you!  I understand that painting also comes with a side order of escargot, correct?

SNAIL AUCTIONEER:  Yyyyyyeeeesssss.  ( realizing ) Hey, what the f-?!

 

 

THEND

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  You can never…

OLIVER: What’s going on?

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  You fell asleep, Oliver, shirtless. Meanwhile, I shut down your air conditioning system.  And now your skin is as sticky as maple syrup combined with Krazy Glue, and… and….and…

OLIVER:  And a Post It note?

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  I wouldn’t really call a Post It note sticky.  They’re slightly tacky and designed to be removed, if needed.  The combination of 95 degrees, summer sweat, humidity, and fake leather material, has rendered your body inert.

OLIVER: What are you saying exactly?

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  The combination of 95 degrees, “sweet summer sweat”, humidity, and fake leather material, has rendered –

OLIVER:  I know all that!  What do you mean by it?!

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  Think of the lyrics to the Eagles’ song Hotel California.

OLIVER:  I’m “on a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair?”

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  No, the other part.

OLIVER:  “Mirrors on the ceiling, the pink champagne on ice?”

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  No, the part near the end on the song, you idiot.

OLIVER:  “Some dance to remember, some dance to forget?”

FAKE LEATHER CHAIR:  No, no, no, no, no, NO!  You can never leave.  You can never leave!  How are you not getting this?!

OLIVER:  So does this mean no champagne on ice?

 

THEND

 

 

 

BLEACH:  I don’t think this is good for your ear.

TRUMP:  Doesn’t matter, it’ll work.  All you have to do is believe in and repeat nonsense enough times and sooner or later… it becomes true.  I know what I’m doing.  I do it all the time.

BLEACH:  Yeah…but no matter how many times you say injecting bleach is good for healing a wounded ear ( or curing Covid ), won’t make it true.

TRUMP:  It’s working.  I now have the greatest ear the world has ever seen.

BLEACH:  It’s not working.  Your face is still orange, but now you have the whitest ear the world has ever seen.

TRUMP:  Nonsense.

BLEACH:  Yes, nonsense.  You should listen to the medical professionals.

TRUMP:  I know what I’m doing.

BLEACH:  No, you’re not a doctor.  You’re not much of a businessman either… or a mogul… and you are most certainly, definitely, positively, with out a motherfuckingly doubt… not presidential material.

TRUMP:  You’re not presidential material either!

BLEACH:  I’m a bottle of bleach.

TRUMP:  Exactly, and I’m Trump!  I was a “reality” TV star for years!

BLEACH:  And a horrible United States president for years!

TRUMP:  Oh yeah, well, besides working with Trump, what else have you done in the political world that would’ve been noteworthy?!

BLEACH:  I’m partially responsible for Marjory Taylor Greene’s “Bleached blonde, bad-built, butch body.”  And I often wash the sheets of some of your supporters.

TRUMP:  And you think that makes you an expert?

BLEACH:  I don’t need to be an expert to know that injecting bleach in one’s body, for any reason, is stupid, and should disqualify anyone who suggested such a thing, from public office.

TRUMP:  I suggested that!

BLEACH:  My point.

 

THEND

 

 

 

DR. PRATT:  In a nutshell, I think your marriage is suffering from a severe case of irony.

DOUG:  No, the problem is my wife’s constant mood swings.  One minute she’s loving, caring… the next thing you know, she’s trying to put arsenic in my Swedish pickled herring!

DR. PRATT: What about that, Yin?  Is there validity in Doug’s statement?

YIN:  No… it was drain cleaner and it was herring enchiladas!

DR. PRATT:  Well… Yin… did you apologize to Doug for being thoughtless and cruel to him?

YIN:  Yes, I did.  And then I gave him a wonderful Swedish massage, while he retold stories of his unimpressive high school hockey adventures… which I affirmed to be impressive.  And then…

DR. PRATT:  And then…

DOUG:  She shanked me with a pair of garden shears!

DR. PRATT:  Yin, what did we establish at our very first session?

YIN:  Shanking and marriage can not coexist if one hopes to have a healthy relationship.

DR. PRATT:  Exactly.  Okay… I think we’ve made some progress this week.   What do you both think?  And I want you to turn to each other and express honestly, exactly how you feel.  Doug, you first.

Doug and Yin face each other.

DOUG:  Yin, I still love you… and despite your inexplicable, wild mood swings… and all the times you’ve acted like an evil gargoyle towards me… I still think our marriage can be the perfect union that we always thought it could be.

YIN:  ( tearfully )  Oh, Doug, I agree.  And I realize that I still love you sooooo much, and I’ll do anything to prove that to you going forward, from this moment on.  And when we get home… when we get back home… when we get home…

DR. PRATT:  What, Yin?

YIN: ( to Doug )  Don’t go into the garage.  I’ve rigged that sucker from top to bottom with harpoons…

DR. PRATT:  Thanks for sharing that, Yin.  It’s a start.

YIN:  …bear traps… poison darts.  The entire joint is basically like an Indiana Jones hellscape…

 

THEND

 

OLD ICE:  Give it to me straight, Doc… how long do I have?

DOC ICE:  Well… given the current temperature and whatnot, I’d say you have about six… maybe seven minutes… tops.  And that’s me being… ah, sanguine.

OLD ICE:  Sanguine?

DOC ICE:  Yes.

OLD ICE:  And what the fuck is that?   Sounds like fake vintage wine.

DOC ICE:  It has nothing to do with wine.  Sanguine is just me being optimistic about your condition, and how much time you have left on this earth.  Or in your case… how much time your have left on this linoleum floor.

OLD ICE:  Well… how much time would you say I have left if you are not being optimistic?

DOC ICE:  You are facing a real existential threat of being paper towel fodder in about ninety seconds.

OLD ICE:  Ninety seconds?  That’s not very long. Doc, is there anything you can do to change that number?

DOC ICE:  Sure… you’ll be water vapor in about a minute and a half.

OLD ICE:  Okay… now I feel better.

 

THEND

 

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