Shakespeare’s Trump, Act I, Scene I

It is the first press conference of Trump’s reign, and TRUMP sits before a CNN REPORTER, a BREITBART REPORTER, and a FOX REPORTER, with KELLYANNE CONWAY by his side.

TRUMP.

Let me begin with smiles and bonhomie

For all Americans and everyone,

Including, yea, my many enemies

And those who’ve fought and lost ’gainst me — I won! —

Such catastrophic losers they, that here

They know not what to do. You need not fear!

With me, you’ll win, win, win, win, win, and win,

Until, like some fat child o’erstuff’d with sweets —

Melania’s great with Barron’s meals, just great —

You’ll have consum’d such a surfeit of good

That more would sicken you. The eagle tweets,

And while some fret ’bout what that screech portends,

You’re on the winning side with me, my friends.

Just stay my friends. Trust me. All will be well.

KELLYANNE CONWAY.

Behold, such Christian charity as we

Forgive our foes. Who dareth Trump decry

As flame-fac’d or revenge-obsess’d? Not he!

Hark now, hear more o’ this soothing lullaby.

TRUMP.

America is burning dark in Hell!

George Washington, if he’s alive, must weep

That Washington and politicians reap

The benefits of all, and yet share none,

While fact’ries rust and so much goes undone.

Th’establishment has risen while you fell,

Their wins have not been yours, their zinfandel

Of celebration drunk by them alone,

While struggling fam’lies ’cross the land lay prone.

Those hypocrites, always themselves enriching!

The times call’d for a leader deaf t’their bitching.

And you found Trump! This moment, now, is yours

As are this country’s newly safen’d shores!

Forgotten man, remember’d will you be

And rais’d above all others — save just me!

No more will mothers and their children thirst

In inner cities black and drug-accurst,

No more will crime and gangs despoil your dreams.

I am encourag’d by your fearful screams

To start my term with this, my solemn vow:

The carnage stops right here and stops right now!

CNN REPORTER.

’Tis hard to say of which nation Trump speaks.

Is this the USA, or some backwater,

A fail’d, dead state? The story that he seeks

To spread is one of widespread, wholesale slaughter.

TRUMP.

I ne’er said that! Thou fraud, thou fake, thou flunky!

Thy channel is a pox upon us all!

Thou lightweight rock-brain’d loser! Keening bore!

Yea, no one likes you! Why are you still here?

Be quiet!

BREITBART REPORTER.

Mr. President, pray tell,

How will you fight this wholespread, widesale slaughter?

TRUMP.

I like that question. See, how hard was that?

I know not why the media complex fails

To even get the simplest matters right.

Since I apprentic’d them in showmanship,

You’d think that TV stations would know well

Who, what I am, yet all the coverage

They have to offer’s so non-flattering,

That it disgusts me, like a cover’d whore

Or an uncover’d trollop past her prime —

I’ve seen the best, you know; the grandest dames,

My pageant judg’d the nation’s beauties fair,

A judgment I inform’d behind the scenes,

Investigating flesh in locker rooms.

That makes me smart. One must ignore the rules

To win the game sometimes, ask anyone.

Consider all the business laws I broke —

But never mind that now. Behold this pen!

It fits so snugly in my large strong hand —

FOX REPORTER.

Yet, sir, the nation waits with bated breath

To hear your proclamations save us all.

TRUMP

Your station has been kind to me, lap-fox,

So I will show you patience, more perhaps

Than you are showing me. To business, then!

I order the erection of a wall,

As mighty an erection as you would

Expect from towering Trump, to bar the door

To lazy thieves of sixteen-hour jobs

From Mexico, that treach’rous trouser-stain

That runs beneath America’s left leg.

FOX REPORTER.

Applause, applause!

BREITBART REPORTER.

Hear, hear! Within that fence,

Build catapults to hurl such man-waste hence!

TRUMP.

I now pull up our drawbridge, banning all

From seven deadly terror-loving states,

Iraq, Iran, Somalia, Syria,

Sudan, Afgha — er, Libya, Yemen, Saud —

No, just those seven, who house not my friends.

FOX REPORTER.

’Tis grand to see this petty purge address’d!

But seriously, I thought you spoke in jest

Of Syria, which is my native land —

TRUMP.

Then thou art ban’d! Thou still don’t understand?

Thy access is revok’d. Take him away!

Enter two SECRET SERVICE AGENTS, who take the FOX REPORTER by the arms. SECRET SERVICE AGENTS and FOX REPORTER exeunt.

I had one more decree. What was my thought?

’Tis true that terrorism makes assault

Upon one’s peace of mind, as you all see!

That Syrian hath made me lose my place —

Ah! Most important, I demand the truth

About my base support must be reveal’d!

I won the most real votes! Who dares say not?

Three million voters voted false, ’tis true!

And who dares say my coronation crowd

Was not the largest in all history?

Two million attendees falsely stay’d home,

Then falsely join’d a protest the next day!

My truth is truth! And truth is trust in Trump!

Its trumpets trump all strumpets who’d deny

My thrusting triumph! Mine and all of yours,

For truly, ’tis all you, my audience,

And your well-demonstrated faith in me

’Twill make our country great again. God bless.

Exit Trump.

KELLYANNE CONWAY.

Observe, you all, what Donald truly meant,

For he is at his best when he addresses

The deepest problems of our government

Such as the immigrational excesses

That fell’d our structures, struck by hijack’d planes

While Muslim crowds in Jersey cheer’d —

CNN REPORTER.

Not so.

Those traitor crowds rail’d only in Don’s brains.

KELLYANNE CONWAY.

Must you repeat fore’er what one can’t know?

Indeed, if you heard forty times a day

That Bannon pulls the wings off butterflies,

In time, you would believe. So let’s just say

Some facts can have alternative replies.

No news team thought that Trump would win th’election,

And thus, none can now judge our new direction.

The time for talk is done, ’tis action’s hour.

We’ll shake and rouse this city built on power.

You watch.

Exeunt KELLYANNE CONWAY, BREITBART REPORTER.

CNN REPORTER.

Yet action brings reaction: so saith science,

And tyranny, when naked, seeds defiance.

Exit.

Writer of comics, crosswords and all manner of things.

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