© 2016 Gage Skidmore, used under a Creative Commons license
[The bedroom of the presidential residence at the White House. Nighttime. Very low light. TV is soundlessly running Fox News. TRUMP is sitting on the end of his bed. He wears grey sweatpants and running shoes, but also a crisp white shirt and a red tie, loosened — as well as a jacket that lacks the epaulets he has lately affected; it looks like a military issue Ike jacket, under which we can see something that looks like a bulletproof vest. His manner is torpid; he scowls. A knock at the door.]
TRUMP: [Hoarse] What.
[RUDY GIULIANI enters in a business suit. His hair is blond. He carries a briefcase.]
GIULIANI: Whoa, boy, another rough day. Gotta sit down.
[GIULIANI sits on a sofa.]
Maybe I should have that CAT scan. Only I’m scared of what they might find.
TRUMP: Who said you can sit?
GIULIANI: This is a medical emergency, Mr. President. My heart’s goin’ like Gene Krupa. I’ll get up in a second.
TRUMP: What’s with your hair?
GIULIANI: It’s a long story. It doesn’t run, I’ll tell you that.
TRUMP: So what happened? We get Wisconsin?
GIULIANI: [Shakes his head] No, no, they certified.
[Pause. GIULIANI looks at TRUMP, who has not reacted and stares into space.]
Well, you’re taking it like a champ, Mr. President. I gotta say. If the people who criticize you could see you now. They say you can’t control yourself, but boy, I tell you, if they could see you now, just right after I told you, basically, you lost the election, and you’re taking it like a tough guy, like a real —
[TRUMP has gotten up and taken a pistol out of his jacket pocket. He shoots at GIULIANI; GIULIANI freezes; four SECRET SERVICE AGENTS run in. One AGENT checks on GIULIANI while the other AGENTS disarm TRUMP and start patting him down.]
TRUMP: [Weakly] Get your hands off me.
[One of the AGENTS gets a knife out of TRUMP’s breast pocket. They all stand back; the AGENT on GIULIANI exchanges nods with the others; the AGENTS start to leave; GIULIANI’s AGENT whispers in his ear.]
GIULIANI: I’m fine, I’m fine. Wait, you — [whispers] you got everything, right? The weapons?
[The AGENT nods. The AGENTS all file out. Pause. TRUMP is looking out the window, or rather at it, as its curtains are drawn. He looks slightly dazed. GIULIANI tries to stand up; falls back; with great determination he hoists himself up and walks a step or two toward TRUMP.]
I can understand you’re upset. You know, in 2001, after the attack, I tried to keep my office.
[TRUMP, facing away from GIULIANI, reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an inhaler; slowly, gently he squeezes it into one nostril, then the other.]
I figured I had a good case. Mark Green was willing to go along, but that fucking Freddy Ferrer, he wouldn’t budge. And for a while there, boy, was I mad! I was mad at the world. I broke a few things. Screamed at the kids. Don’t tell anybody but I killed a guy, driving around in my SUV. It was late one night in Hackensack —
[Suddenly TRUMP, animated, walks up to GIULIANI, who backs up, frightened.]
TRUMP: New York state, when do they certify?
GIULIANI: Wuh-uh about a week. December 7. I remember. Pearl Harbor Day.
TRUMP: And California?
GIULIANI: After. After. Not sure when.
TRUMP: OK, listen, you know people, I know people. We get New York thrown out. Place is totally crooked, we get a good judge, we got it.
GIULIANI: Oh, yeah, of course, of course.
TRUMP: Then we work the state senate.
GIULIANI: Okay, they’re all Democrats you know —
TRUMP: They’re all crooks! Tell ‘em we got money. Tell ‘em look at Wisconsin, we spent three million, we didn’t get shit, we don’t care. Because we’re rich. As long as they think we got it they’ll do anything we tell ‘em.
GIULIANI: I like it! I like it!
TRUMP: OK, go get a judge.
GIULIANI: Your sister was a judge, she know anybody?
TRUMP: Are you kidding? Why d'ya think she quit?
GIULIANI: I’ll call Noach. Noach Dear. He went straight but he knows people.
TRUMP: Don’t be afraid to lean on ‘em, Rudy. Say I can get ‘em killed. I can kill someone for ‘em if that’s what it takes. I don’t care, I’ll kill anybody,
GIULIANI: [Somberly] I know, Mr. President.
TRUMP: Whattaya, sore about that, still?
GIULIANI: You know what? I am sore. I am sore, and sir, I would appreciate an apology.
TRUMP: You too, huh? Everybody and you too. What would you be if not for me?
[Pause. The men look at each other.]
TRUMP: I got an apology for you, Rudy. You want an apology? I got an apology —
[TRUMP shakes a tiny derringer out of his sleeve, put it in his hand and fires. GIULIANI charges out of the room, but a second after he leaves he is swept back in by a rushing phalanx of SECRET SERVICE AGENTS who seize the derringer from TRUMP and start patting him down as the CURTAIN falls.]