Hellhound on my trail

A hard duty for the president

[The Oval Office. CONAN THE GERMAN SHEPHERD sits patiently in a cage, flanked by two MARINES in full dress and three STAFF PHOTOGRAPHERS. Chief of Staff MICK MULVANEY is playing with his phone on a couch. IVANKA TRUMP and JARED KUSHNER are playing Slapsies over by the Rose Garden doors.]

JARED: [Enduring a slap] OWWW! OK, that’s enough, Vanky, I quit. You slap like you’re mad at me!

IVANKA: Who says I’m not!

JARED: No! What would you have to be mad at me about?

IVANKA: I dunno. Jealous maybe.

JARED: Oh baby doll, you know there’s no one else.

IVANKA: Ugh, I mean jealous of Beyonce and maybe [with effort] Alexis D’caccio Cortezoa. I want to be known for my accomplishments.

JARED: You are, muffin. Women’s prosperity in Morocco! To name a few.

IVANKA: I mean here in the United States! I swear, Jar-Jar! Sometimes I think he keeps me out of the country because I embarrass him.

JARED: Embarrass! Honey bunch, if it were up to him you’d be queen!

IVANKA: Oh, Jared, you know so little about men.

[TRUMP enters in half-zombie mode. He immediately heads for the corner cabinet where the formula is kept.]

MULVANEY: Ah ah ah! Not in front of the P-H-O-T-ographers!

[TRUMP swings around. He seems a little ill at ease.]

IVANKA: What’s the matter, Daddy?

TRUMP: Nothing, nothing. Jared, get between me and the dog.

JARED: The dog? Pop, the dog is trained, he —

TRUMP: Just do what I say! And don’t call me Pop!

[MULVANEY saunters over.]

MULVANEY: Wie gehts?

JARED: The President’s afraid of the dog.

TRUMP: I’m not afraid! I just don’t like dogs.

MULVANEY: It’s okay, sir. We gave him a piece of your clothing to sniff. He’s gonna act like you’re his best friend.

TRUMP: A piece of my clothes? That’s how they track down guys from a chain gang! Listen, I’m not scared but I don’t have a very good relationship with dogs.

IVANKA: He’s always been like that.

TRUMP: It’s nothing I did! Nothing I ever did! But they all look at me in that way they look at you. Like they know they can take you. You try to show ‘em who’s boss, the way you do to people — you know, deep voice, squint, point your finger, let ‘em know. Doesn’t even faze ‘em. They just stare at you through the bars.

MULVANEY: So one never bit you?

TRUMP: They wouldn’t dare.

MULVANEY: Lovely story, sir. One for the autobiography.

[GENERAL FRANK McKENZIE, Commander of Centcom, enters. MARINES snap to attention, salute. McKENZIE approaches TRUMP.]

McKENZIE: Good to see you, sir! Shall we get started?

MULVANEY: Sure, let’s just do this.

[The PHOTOGRAPHERS spread out, take aim. TRUMP stands frozen.]

McKENZIE: All right, Smitty, let’s release the hounds, shall we?

[A MARINE uncages CONAN, who trots out toward TRUMP, who immediately screams and shoves JARED in front on him. JARED screams too. CONAN starts to bark.]

TRUMP: KILL THE DOG! KILL THE DOG! SECRET SERVICE! SECRET SERVICE!

[SECRET SERVICE AGENTS rush in and tackle and cover TRUMP, causing CONAN to snarl and attack. An AGENT screams. Pandemonium. IVANKA and KUSHNER flee through the Rose Garden. A gun discharges. CONAN falls back in a spray of blood, lies still. More screaming. Presently it dies down; only the clicking of the cameras is heard.]

MULVANEY: I think we have enough photos, guys.

[The PHOTOGRAPHERS leave the room. McKENZIE crouches mournfully over CONAN’s lifeless body. SECRET SERVICE help TRUMP to his feet. ]

McKENZIE: [Choked up] To think he faced danger in Syria only to die in the White House!

MULVANEY: [Quietly to McKENZIE] That’s not really Conan, General. He’s a ringer we got at a kill shelter.

[McKENZIE straightens up, looks at TRUMP with ill-concealed contempt, salutes and heads for the door, motioning the MARINES to come with. They leave.]

TRUMP: Boy, you guys did a good job. I’ll get you all medals. Congressional medals, the classy kind. So could you get the dog out of here?

MULVANEY: I’ll get the cleaners to do it. Come on, guys. We gotta explain this racket to the tour groups.

[MULVANEY and SECRET SERVICE leave. Now it’s just TRUMP and the body of CONAN. Pause. TRUMP walks slowly to CONAN’s body. He leans over and softly growls. CURTAIN.]