Shakespeare’s Trump, Act III, Scene III

IVANKA TRUMP and JARED KUSHNER sit at the head of a dinner-table, with DONALD TRUMP JR. in the middle and ERIC TRUMP near its foot. No chairs are empty.


I think we must attend the funeral.

Our absence would insult th’aristocrats.

Whilst Sir McCain had right to keep us out,

’Twas only Father’s presence that he barr’d.

Attending orphan’d, we respect his wish,

But show respect befitting dynasty.


In what respect hath he respected us?

Respect! Re-speck’d his spittle on our cheeks

When he disloyally shot down our vote,

Maintaining healthcare for those twixt-toe fleas

Who living do not earn yet dare to live!


Pray compose thyself, brother-in-law: say the quiet words low.

For “repeal and replace” was our slogan, not merely “erase.”

Thou’rt with family, true, but diplomacy’s best practic’d much

Or remains foreign tongue when amongst those who foibles condemn.


I yield t’thy diplomatic expertise

As recogniz’d by nations near and far!

I know not how we doubted thy statecraft

When dignitary thou wast newly made.

Now peace hath broken out i’the Middle East:

Israelis horahs dance with Palestine,

Netanyahu and Salman share tongue-kiss,

And Christian church is built on Kaaba’s soil,

All thanks to thee, thou tranquil wunderkind

Whose voice doth tranquilize all listeners

And therefore lull combatants into hush.


Flinging mud-clods is easier if one do stand in the rain

Than on carpeted floors. Little knowledge thou hast of my work.

Conflicts centuries old shan’t be wip’d to alliance in months,

But transactional policy new opportunities brings.


O, bribes! Such new terrain for making deals!

Methinks thy knowledge of the subject deep

Enow to blame thy failure on the task,

And not one bird-sip deeper. And wherefore

Dost thou consort with Chinese oligarchs?

Our trade-foe should no comfort get from us!


Do you actually ask this of me? Are you yet unaware

Of the debts that we owe? I speak not of American vaults,

But of family fortunes in need of replenishment soon.


The Trumps should not go begging to Chinese!

Harp not on debt! There’s always more to seize!


Enough, young Eric. Jealousy thou bear’st

Too openly. Let Jared architect

New bridges as thou buildest us new towers.

To help maintain Dad’s magnum opus of

Our Trump Organization surely is

Sufficient honor to maintain thy want.

Promoting Jared so was Father’s choice,

And challenging that choice would challenge him,

Destabilizing our united stance.

Ivanka, I approve thy schedul’d grief.

And if thou photograph his daughter’s speech,

Share it with me: ’twould help our cause to tweet

Her tear-blotch’d visage bracketed with th’words:


Or mayhap “PEDOPHILIC.” I shall mull.


For thy own sake, I shall pretend I heard

Encouragements to succor Meghan’s loss.

Few peers I meet as Presidential child,

And John McCain this House approach’d despite

A het’rodoxy ’midst Republicans

We likewise cling to now. He, champion,

Attracted grappling hugs from challenger,

As was the way in Father’s wrestling match

Which he by proxy won. ’Twas from respect

He mov’d to suplex John, as all could see.

I hope to make Meg friend, as Chelsea is.


Are we sure of that friendship? I cannot remember the last

Incidence of communion ’twixt you. Doth she text you unseen?


We spoke soon after th’race’s starting blast.

Though Father rush’d her mother, well she knew

That party politics could be blood sport,

And promis’d she’d begrudge no typical

Maneuvers from our camp. I see no cause

For her to have renounc’d that policy.


Our calls to have her mother dungeon’d up

In manacles and fitted with a gag

Of printed-out emails may’ve struck her as

Atypical. Flinch-finger’d Democrats

Do quiver from our jests innocuous.


Especially their women.


’Tis no lie.


If thou do spoil for tweet-fight, Donny, look

Away from our own borders. Kim-Jong Un

Waves menacingly o’er Hawaiian maps.

The prior time a shadow blanketed

Those islands, Roosevelt took fear and forg’d

Our nation to a mighty sword and shield.

If propagandist thou hast now become,

At least unite United States against

The enemy without.


I know not how

T’explain to you, dear sister, classiness,

For which our father once acutely yearn’d,

The like of which thou hast embodied long,

Pretense to which thou hast enabled oft,

Belief in which hath govern’d thy whole life,

Is liability where we now stand.

Our knuckles raw and bloodied, our teeth chipp’d,

Ring’d bruising round our eyes, but rivals flat

Upon the canvas, writhing like spray’d roach:

Our fans would see us thusly, not as fops

Who sip at brandy, quoting Oscar Wilde,

And wave politely to the ones they hate.

In thee the ghosts of his ambitions live,

But grace means naught to one who can’t forgive.

I, cyberbully, show what Trumps must be.

Feign no surprise if favor turns to me.



What kolo circle-dance do we have here?

Pray tell, where are my son and I to sit,

Upon the table that Javanka heads,

Or monkey-fashion on the chandeliers?

I am one decade past Don’s brood, too old

To circumnavigate child’s music-chairs.


More seats shall now be found. (to offstage). Attend us, staff!

Our stepmother First Lady tires to stand!

(to MELANIA). But lovingly I must advise thee not

To advertise thy age near Father’s ears.


Our apologies, Lady Melania, we did not think

You were with us this morn, as so often you sleep in New York.

At the end of the day, thou and thine rarely end thy days here.


’Tis strange our women, who doth eat the least,

Should fight for place the most when meals are serv’d.

(to BARRON). Ivanka, Barron, is thy stepsister,

And once she chas’d cheesesteak with twin cheesecakes,

But now she’s water, seeds, and yogurt made.


As if a few indulgent calories

Could make her Tiffany, forgotten girl,

And knock her from her polish’d pedestal.

Such paranoia.


Do not follow her.

Be thy own man, like we, and eat the world.

’Tis meant to stuff our guts, it tastes so fine.

Thy mouth should gain some use, thou surly youth,

Since thou so rarely deign’st to speak to us.

BARRON (aside).

Prince Hal once plann’d to make offense a skill,

Escaping court for posse philistine.

For me, the two are one, this tableful

Of male and female Falstaffs. I know not

Who I will be; my voice hath scarcely broke.

Athletic fields extend across my dreams,

A venue that my father disapproves,

But he’s but half my father, split amongst

These business partners, national concerns,

And something else I cannot yet define

Absenting love that’s not express’d in coin.

I fear I must my own manhood decide,

And time shall tell if that be shame or pride.

Writer of comics, crosswords and all manner of things.

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