Bug chasers

The President's top people confer at Walter Reed

[The dining area at the Walter Reed Presidential Suite. The table is covered in discarded McDonald’s and Taco Bell containers. A pair of women’s panties hangs from the chandelier. A huge TV plays Fox News soundlessly. Standing slumped, as if hanging from invisible wires, near one of the two doors to the room is White House Chief of Staff MARK MEADOWS, who has finally dropped his demonic rictus. He seems to have aged ten years. Nearby, Presidential son-in-law JARED KUSHNER stands wearing his old Hazmat suit, on which several rips and tears have been repaired with pieces of silver duct tape. Seated on dining room chairs are advisor/Nazi STEPHEN MILLER; DR. SEAN CONLEY, the President's physician; Vice-President MIKE PENCE, who keeps shooting nervous looks at the doors; and, next to PENCE, a woman who is NOT IVANKA TRUMP but who sort of looks like her. Aside from the Hazmat-suited KUSHNER, everyone is masked except MILLER. A noise is heard.]

PENCE: Is that him?

[Everyone stirs. TRUMP lumbers in wearing a blue suit jacket and white shirt, sweatpants, and brown slippers. His pupils are huge and his skin is almost dead white. He does not wear a mask. Everyone seated gets up; KUSHNER’s, NOT IVANKA’s, and PENCE’s eyes show panic —as do MEADOWS’, though they are also still weighted with despair; CONLEY’s eyes are just dull and resigned. MILLER’s eyes, on the other hand, shine with the fervor of the true believer.]

TRUMP: Boy, what a thrill that was! Ridin’ around, people cheering — it’s better than blow, I tell ya.

[Pulls an inhaler out of his pocket.]

Speaking of which.

[Takes a huge, juicy snort, then sneezes, at which everyone but MILLER recoils; KUSHNER can be heard to scream, though the suit muffles it, and he falls backwards, knocking over a potted plant.]

Goddamnit. [To KUSHNER] Hey, Jared, you look like Diver Dan! Boy, I feel good. Gonna get dressed, go out on the town.

[TRUMP kicks off his slippers. JARED pulls himself up along the wall with difficulty. TRUMP looks at him.]

You believe this?

[TRUMP points at NOT IVANKA.]

You know we can still get you out of it. [Yells, hoarsely, toward the door] SOLDIER BOY, PANTS AND SHOES. [More quietly, to NOT IVANKA] The Jews have something like an annulment. Sheldon Adelson told me. Just say the word.

[A MARINE in full dress comes in carrying pants and shoes that match TRUMP’s outfit.]

Look out, sweetheart, Daddy’s changing.

[TRUMP drops his pants. He is wearing blue boxer briefs with little Porky Pig faces on them.]

Aw, lookit daddy’s funny underoos! ‘Smatter, honey, got a frog in your throat? Lookit Daddy’s fuh —

[TRUMP has a wet coughing fit; everyone but MILLER recoils, again.]

MEADOWS: [With sudden, desperate energy] Sir, you have to get back in bed, it’s too soon, you’re not a well —

TRUMP: [Curtly] Throw these in the hamper.

[TRUMP throws his sweatpants at MEADOWS, continues dressing. EVERYONE but MILLER gasps, recoils. The clothes strike MEADOWS, fall to the floor; MEADOWS stands frozen, looks stricken. MILLER runs up to TRUMP, falls to one knee.]

MILLER: Allow me to put on your shoes, mein Führer!

TRUMP: Knock yourself out. Wait, gimme a chair, first.

[While MILLER goes and gets the chair, PENCE suddenly bolts out of the room. TRUMP notices.]

What’s with God Boy?

[MILLER, returning with a chair, notices, drops chair.]

MILLER: [Wrathfully, to NOT IVANKA] Why do you let him get away! [To the MARINE.] After him, you fool!

[The MARINE does not move.]

TRUMP: [Grabs MILLER’s lapel] What the fuck are you doing, you fucking Nazi fag! Don’t you ever talk to her like that!

NOT IVANKA: [Yells, in a broad Russian accent, on the verge of tears] Nyet, nyet, I cehnt do eet! Is too much, too much for to do even for my fembly in Minsk!

MILLER: [Shouts to NOT IVANKA] Then go and get him! Do your job, Cossack!

[NOT IVANKA bursts into tears and flees. Pause. TRUMP releases MILLER.]

TRUMP: What the fuck is going on?

KUSHNER: [Incoherent noise from within Hazmat suit]

TRUMP: [Yelling] The speaker, genius!

KUSHNER: [Now amplified] Oops! That’s a, a girl we, she’s in, she’s in, in, from the typing pool. Because Vanky couldn’t make it, she’s, she’s, she’s doing a treaty.

TRUMP: Oh yeah? Which one?

KUSHNER: UNICEF?

TRUMP: Oh, well, that’s okay. They do Christmas Seals, right?

KUSHNER: I guess.

TRUMP: Listen, that girl, she finds Pence, she gonna kill him or what?

MILLER: Miss Ludaveshsko is under strict orders to deliver the package intact.

TRUMP: Interesting. [Low, bending toward KUSHNER] So, this Loodawhosis, she do personal Presidential service, too? You know what I mean.

KUSHNER: Eww!

MILLER: Sir, your chair.

TRUMP: [To MILLER] Oh, yeah. Hey, sorry, about saying Nazi fag. Hitler, he was okay, my dad always said.

[TRUMP sits very heavily in the chair.]

Whoa, boy, must be all the excitement.

[MILLER starts shoeing TRUMP, who takes the inhaler out of his pocket again and snorts, this time in both nostrils. MEADOWS is suddenly reanimated; he advances on TRUMP.]

MEADOWS: Mr. President! I’m sorry, I have to speak! This is madness. You’ve had several therapies, including an experimental drug, and no one knows how they interact! You can’t go around like everything’s normal!

TRUMP: Listen to this guy. [To CONLEY] Hey, Doc, whattaya say? Am I doing good or what?

CONLEY: [Dully] After a very transient limited episode the President is healthy and could be released at any time.

TRUMP: That’s the stuff. Keep it up and we’ll make you a real doctor. OK —

[TRUMP tries to get up, falls backwards in the chair; KUSHNER and MILLER help him up.]

Jesus. One more for the road. OK, get the car, I’m going to Burger King.

[TRUMP takes out the inhaler, does another double shot.]

MEADOWS: [Astonished] Burger King!

KUSHNER: Dr. Conley! Talk some sense into him!

CONLEY: [Dully] After a very transient limited episode the President is healthy and could be —

MEADOWS: [Yelling] NO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS! THIS IS INSANE!

[KUSHNER tries to restrain MEADOWS, which causes them both to fall into a breakfront and collapse to the floor.]

TRUMP: What’s everybody worried? I got tip top medical treatment. I got the regenerator-tron, I got resti-tutioner-izer. They shot me up with dead baby cells! They killed babies so I could get better! That’s how big and important and popular and presidential I am! Nobody gets better treatment than me. Nobuhuhuh —

[TRUMP has another coughing fit; everyone recoils except MILLER, who seems to lean toward TRUMP.]

Ugh, I gotta get up and move around or I’ll go nuts. And have I got a yen for Burger King! Them little onion ring things, so good, wash ‘em down with a Diet Coke it’s like filet mignon. I mean I think. I lost my sense of taste a couple days ago. Maybe this’ll shake something loose.

[KUSHNER has crawled back up from the floor; MEADOWS sits dazed against a wall.]

KUSHER: Well, OK, well, so give us a couple of hours, sir, we can get a Burger King set up for a presidential —

TRUMP: Nah, not presidential, I just wanna go. Obama did it all the time, the fuckin’ hot shot.

KUSHNER: No, no, those were —

TRUMP: We just ride up. People are gonna love it. I’ll even wear the mask. Got it on me someplace.

MEADOWS: [Weakly] Sir, think about liability, you’re a businessman, you know, you know all those people, if they wanted to sue —

TRUMP: Liability! Like I ever pay that shit! Liability’s for like that gargoyle Junior’s fucking. Boy, that was a mess, huh? First time I heard lesbo stuff that didn’t get me hot.

KUSHNER: Sir, at least go to a Burger King somewhere further out. All the Burger Kings around here are — well, they’re black.

TRUMP: Terrific! They love me! I’ll call Ben Carson, he can meet us. OK, here goes nothin’.

[TRUMP lumbers off, first pulling a strip of duct tape off KUSHNER's suit; KUSHNER screams, runs into a wall, collapses. MEADOWS gets on his cell phone.]

MEADOWS: Tranquility base? POTUS is taking the pool to Burger King, he says. Yeah, I know. Can you run some of the Nazis over there? No, they can’t bring their guns!

[MILLER sneezes violently. Everyone recoils. Pause.]

MILLER: [Joyously] I have it! I have it! I am the recipient of the Führer’s gift!

[Keening, MILLER throws out his hands and with wild abandon does a klezmer dance around the room; everyone screams and runs. BLACKOUT.]