MacTrump Read online

  This is a work of fiction. All names, places, and characters—including those based on real people, living or dead—as well as characterizations and opinions are products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2019 by Ian Doescher and Jacopo della Quercia

  All rights reserved. Except as authorized under U.S. copyright law, no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Number: 2019936672

  ISBN: 9781683691600

  Ebook ISBN 9781683691617

  Cover art and interior illustrations by Chloe Cushman

  Cover and interior designed by Aurora Parlagreco

  Production management by John J. McGurk

  Quirk Books

  215 Church Street

  Philadelphia, PA 19106

  quirkbooks.com

  v5.4

  a

  To all the people he afflicted, swindled, Misrepresented, conned, and tyrannized

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Foreword

  Dramatis Personae

  Prologue

  Act I

  Scene 1

  Scene 2

  Scene 3

  Scene 4

  Scene 5

  Act II

  Scene 1

  Scene 2

  Scene 3

  Act III

  Scene 1

  Scene 2

  Scene 3

  Scene 4

  Scene 5

  Scene 6

  Act IV

  Scene 1

  Scene 2

  Scene 3

  Scene 4

  Scene 5

  Scene 6

  Act V

  Scene 1

  Scene 2

  Scene 3

  Scene 4

  Scene 5

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Acknowledgments

  About the Authors

  FOREWORD.

  A few words before the show starts: the following is a fictionalized satire of the first two years of the Trump era, which means it’s very fake. It’s not real life, but a deliberate distortion akin to a funhouse mirror, a Snapchat filter, or alternative facts. It takes place in a fictitious world with a wooden core instead of a rocky one. It stars fictional characters—some of them not even human—whose names and personalities we made up as we went along. For example, in our story, Lord MacTrump has two unmarried sons, Donnison and Ericson, who are lovesick dolts not at all like their closest approximates. Our characters Prosperosi and Desdivanka enjoy honorific titles for military services never detailed in the play nor analogous to reality. The most advanced technology in our drama is a mirror. The United States does not exist in this play, and never did, but ghosts and monsters do. In short, if any of our characters sound smarter, stupider, similar, or dissimilar to any celebrity or public figure, alive or dead, there’s a reason: this book is a parody, and the First Amendment loves protecting parodies that know they belong squarely in the fiction section—which this book surely does.

  Some of the events in this drama will be instantly familiar to you. Some might sound real but are taken out of sequence in the context of our deliberately conflated and expanded timeline. Still other moments might make you ask yourself: “Did that really happen?” The answer is probably no, but don’t take our word for it. That’s what your friends, teachers, libraries, and search engines are for. We wrote this play to provide a glimpse into how a deceased seventeenth-century English playwright might have viewed the world today if forced to live through its present craziness.

  As such, please accept this as a work of fiction, a satire, and an homage to the life and writings of William Shakespeare. Enjoy the show!

  —THE AUTHORS

  DRAMATIS PERSONAE

  CHORUS, across social media

  MACTRUMP, President of the United Fiefdoms

  LADY MACTRUMP, his third wife

  DAME DESDIVANKA, daughter to MacTrump and wife to Lord Kushrew

  DONNISON and ERICSON, sons to MacTrump

  LORD JARED KUSHREW, husband to Desdivanka

  MCTWEET, a messenger

  STEPHEN BANNOX and LADY KELLEYANNE BOLEYN, advisors

  GARGAMILLER, a magician

  SEAN SPICERO and LADY SARAH PUCKABEE, heralds

  GRAND DUKE JEFFREY SECESSIONS, Minister of Justice

  SIR RODNEY ROSENSTERN, Deputy Minister of Justice

  SIR MICHAEL POMPEII, Secretary of State

  SIR MICHAEL FLYNNALDO and SIR JOHN MACKEELEY, generals

  PAULUS ROMANAFORT, a courtier

  MICHAEL LACÖHEN, a lawyer

  FOOLIANI, a fool

  DOCTOR PINO ENOS, a doctor

  ROGER BLACKSTONE, a hatchet man

  REINCE PUBIS, a partisan

  LORD MICHAEL POUND, Viceroy of the United Fiefdoms

  LADY POUND, his wife

  SIR ROBERT OF MACMUELLER, an investigator

  LORD CHIEF JUSTICE JOHN OF ROBERTSON, Lord President of the High Court

  MITCH MACTUTTLE, GRIMSBY LINDSEYLOCKS, CHARLES SOOTHER, and BERNICARUS, senators

  LADY NANCY PROSPEROSI, LADY CLEOSANDRIA O’CASSIO, and SPEAKER PRYAM, parliamentarians

  BANQUO O’BAMA, GEORGE THE GREATER, BILLIAM O’CLINTON, GEORGE THE LESSER, RONALD REGAN, RICHARD THE WORST, DWIGHT D. EISENPOWER, HARRY S. TRUEMAN, FRANKLIN ROSSEVELT, WILLIAM FALSTAFT, and THEODORE ROSSEVELT, former Presidents of the United Fiefdoms

  LORD JOSEPH O’BIDEN, former Viceroy to O’Bama

  VLAD PUTAIN, Czar of Prussia

  ROBERT WORMWOOD, a journalist

  LADY JUSTINE and LADY MARIANNE, progressives and roommates

  JOURNALISTS, SENATORS, PARLIAMENTARIANS, SUPPORTERS, PROTESTORS, SPECTATORS, GENERALS, ADMIRALS, SOLDIERS, PILOTS, POLICE, FEDERAL WORKERS, GUARDS, JUDGES, GHOSTS, TROLLS, BOTS, SNOLLYGOSTERS, GERRYMANDERS, and OTHER MONSTERS

  PROLOGUE.

  Washingtown, the United Fiefdoms, in the New World.

  Enter CHORUS.

  CHORUS

  One nation, under God, divides in twain—

  Half to the right, their power on the rise,

  Half to the left, in fury and disdain—

  Two peoples held by aging, fragile ties.

  Is this America, which once, so proud,

  Above the height of lesser nations stood?

  How hath there come this overwhelming cloud

  To darken freedom’s light, so pure and good?

  Election, like an axe assaults a stump,

  Hath torn the country easily in two.

  And, from the wreckage, riseth one MacTrump,

  Whose government begins with much ado.

  If thou hast humor, hear our history,

  Which may prove comedy or tragedy.

  [Exit.

  SCENE 1.

  The streets of Washingtown in winter.

  Enter MCTWEET, writing on a scroll of parchment with a blue quill.

  MCTWEET

  All politics is but a theater,

  And all the politicians merely actors;

  They read their lines and play their fleetin
g parts

  In pageants we the people judge by vote.

  It hath been dubb’d a great experiment

  But is, in truth, a motley entertainment—

  The perfect spectacle in which some knave

  May strut and fret his feathers on the stage

  And single-handedly may steal the show—

  E’en if those hands be orangish and small.

  [McTweet sticks his quill in his cap.

  Such is American democracy,

  The greatest government the world has known.

  At least, ’tis how these actors puff their chests,

  Which I should know, for I am bound to parrot

  Each peep and cheep its rabble tittle-tattles.

  [McTweet reads from several scraps of paper.

  One crow doth cry, “Democracy is humbug,

  A shiny yarn of silken shadow that

  Is puppeteer’d by spiders from dark corners,”

  To which another bustard groans, “The founders

  Were all bad eggs, and their fowl government

  As pining, pass’d, and shagg’d as dodos damn’d.”

  This buzzard pecks at young millennilarks

  With sniping hashtags, not with talons sharp.

  One night owl older than the dawn of time

  Proclaimeth, “Politics is not for chicks,

  Unless their kind be hooters, tits, or boobies.”

  Still others—an asylum of cuckoos—

  Dumb birdbrains who rely on faux reports,

  Whitewash our windows with their fascist facts!

  So sings our aviary’s jarring choir

  Of tweeting doves and hawks and eagles bald.

  If I thy feathers ruffle, be not peckish—

  For I am but a humble messenger,

  And ’tis a sin to kill a mockingbird—

  Yet such is but a horse of diff’rent feather.

  My song is ending now, and I must fly—

  A new day dawns, the birds again are chirping,

  And one enormous cock anon approacheth.

  [Exit McTweet to rapid drumming.

  Enter SOLDIER. Drumming continues.

  SOLDIER

  Make way for Lord MacTrump!

  MCTWEET

  [offstage:] —MacTrump!

  SUPPORTERS

  [offstage:] —MacTrump!

  Enter more SOLDIERS, marching with drum and colors.

  SOLDIERS

  [chanting:] A-thump! A-thump! A-thump, here comes MacTrump!

  Enter MCTWEET, also marching.

  ALL

  A-thump! A-thump! A-thump, here comes MacTrump!

  Enter POLICE, GUARDS, JOURNALISTS, SUPPORTERS, PROTESTORS, and SPECTATORS. Marching continues. MCTWEET takes and delivers messages throughout the crowd.

  SUPPORTERS

  [singing:] O beautiful, for spacious skies…

  PROTESTORS

  [singing:] We’ll not accept his vicious lies!

  SPECTATOR 1

  I hear his hair was woven out of hay.

  MCTWEET

  Like Doris Johnston and Teresa Nay!

  SPECTATOR 2

  His hands look smaller than an infant boy’s.

  MCTWEET

  But not as small as his most fav’rite toys.

  PROTESTOR 1

  Nay, he was sent here by the devil’s grace!

  SUPPORTER 1

  Thank God for his most upright, Christian base!

  JOURNALIST

  If any of his speeches have offended—

  PROTESTOR 2

  Go thou to hell, for nothing hath been mended!

  ALL

  A-thump! A-thump! A-thump, here comes MacTrump!

  Enter SENATORS, GENERALS, PARLIAMENTARIANS, and MACTRUMP’S MINISTERS and ADVISORS, including LADY KELLEYANNE BOLEYN, who file in and take seats above. Enter LADY JUSTINE, who is blind, led by the arm by LADY MARIANNE. The two stand and listen among the PROTESTORS. The drumming stops.

  SOLDIER

  All hail Lord Michael Pound, who hither comes,

  Your newfound Viceroy of th’United Fiefdoms!

  Enter VICEROY MICHAEL POUND and LADY POUND.

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail! Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Fail!

  [Lord Pound and Lady Pound stand and wave.

  JUSTINE

  —Lesser than MacTrump, yet faker.

  MARIANNE

  One not so sleazy, yet far sketchier.

  SOLDIER

  All hail to Donnison and Ericson—

  Lord men-but-children to our liege MacTrump!

  Enter DONNISON and ERICSON.

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Pale!

  MARIANNE

  —This Ericson looks like a salmon,

  A fishy visage with the skin to match.

  JUSTINE

  Mayhap it is a blessing I am blind.

  SOLDIER

  All hail Lady MacTrump—third wife, first lady!

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Wail!

  MCTWEET

  [to Marianne and Justine:] —Would ye see pictures of her nude?

  MARIANNE

  If thou wish’st we shoot not the messenger,

  In turn shouldst thou respect her privacy.

  JUSTINE

  An I could live to see one hundred years,

  Such nonsense I should never wish to see.

  MCTWEET

  Is that, then, thy reply?

  [Marianne takes McTweet’s quill and writes on his parchment.

  —“Block’d.” Thank you, ladies!

  MARIANNE

  Fly hence, thou feather duster. Get thee gone!

  [Marianne pokes McTweet with his quill and he leaves them.

  SOLDIER

  All hail Dame Desdivanka, daughter to

  MacTrump and noble wife unto Lord Kushrew!

  Enter DAME DESDIVANKA and LORD JARED KUSHREW.

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Jail!

  MARIANNE

  —What thinkest thou of her, my friend?

  JUSTINE

  Methinks she is the one we must observe.

  Americans, we are a fickle breed—

  No other folk more passionately seek

  More power, property, and reputation.

  MacTrump loves her beyond a father’s love,

  For she is more than daughter: she’s his prize.

  Her trophy, though, remaineth to be won.

  MARIANNE

  Then please restrain me from quick judgment, sister.

  Without thy wisdom, truly, mine is naught.

  SOLDIER

  All Hail Chief Justice John of Robertson,

  Lord President of our esteem’d High Court!

  Enter CHIEF JUSTICE JOHN OF ROBERTSON.

  PROTESTORS

  Fail!

  SUPPORTERS

  —Double fail!

  JUSTINE

  —What sentence wouldst thou give him?

  MARIANNE

  I have two minds about him, verily,

  Yet both are born of woman.

  JUSTINE

  —Here’s a thought:

  How can we be a land of liberty

  If all our laws be slaves to men in robes?

  SOLDIER

  All rise! [All stand.] All hail your sovereign MacTrump!

  First champion of the Republicons,
r />   Defeater of the Democrati ranks,

  Lord High Commander of the military,

  Defender of the hallow’d Constitution—

  MCTWEET

  [aside:] Defender or pretender? Time will tell!

  SOLDIER

  And president-elect of this, our land,

  Th’United Fiefdoms of America!

  Enter MACTRUMP.

  Both cheers and sobs erupt from the crowd.

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Heil!

  MACTRUMP

  —My people, friends and enemies,

  ’Tis well that ye have hither come today.

  Forsooth, this is a most tremendous crowd.

  Say Kelleyanne, behold this mighty crowd.

  Was e’er a crowd terrific as this crowd?

  It crowds my mind to think upon this crowd.

  KELLEYANNE

  ’Tis passing comprehension, sovereign.

  Thy power is unsinkable—titanic!

  MACTRUMP

  [to Kelleyanne:] Indeed. The biggest crowd there ever was,

  Which groweth larger ev’ry second, yea?

  ’Tis unbelievable by ev’ry measure.

  I bid ye, take a picture of the crowd.

  [To McTweet:] Take thou a picture.

  MCTWEET

  —Happily, my liege.

  [McTweet brings MacTrump a small painting of the crowd.

  MACTRUMP

  Take thou a bigger picture, pesky rogue.

  [McTweet presents a second, smaller painting.

  Whatever. I’ve no need of such as these.

  I have my charge as ruler over all—

  King of the castle, servant unto none,

  Brave keeper of th’United Fiefdoms’ might,

  Surpassing e’en Hillaria O’Clinton.

  The country and its plebians are mine!

  Bow down before me! I, the great MacTrump!

  SUPPORTERS

  Hail!

  PROTESTORS

  —Fail!

  ROBERTSON

  —Are you prepar’d to take the oath,

  The sacred promise of this noble office?

  MACTRUMP

  More ready am I quickly to get hence—

  My stones are freezing. Who hath pick’d this day?

  Let them be thrown into a dungeon bleak.

  ROBERTSON

  Good sovereign MacTrump, raise your right hand.

  [MacTrump raises his left hand.