The imaginary invalid

A house call

[The Oval Office. TRUMP is at the Resolute Desk, playing with his phone. Knock at the door.]

TRUMP: [Like Walter Matthau in The Sunshine Boys] En-TUH!

[White House physician SEAN CONLEY enters carrying a little Gladstone bag. He’s wearing a grey suit and looks miserable.]

CONLEY: Mr. President.

[CONLEY crosses to TRUMP’s desk, puts his bag on the floor, stands at ease.]

TRUMP: Did you catch what I was doing? En-TUH! That’s from The Sunshine Boys.

CONLEY: I don’t know it, Mr. President.

TRUMP: Sure you do, you just don’t remember. It was an enormous hit, a huge thing, with George Burns.

CONLEY: I don’t remember, sir.

TRUMP: How old are you, Sean?

CONLEY: 41, sir.

TRUMP: And look how far you’ve come. President’s physician, wow, that’s like second only to Surgeon General for you guys. You ever think about that?

CONLEY: I’m just happy doing my job, sir.

TRUMP: You don't look happy. Not that it makes a difference. Everett Koop, remember him? Looked like he sucked on a lemon. Oh, did you bring the Prilosec?

CONLEY: Yes, sir.

[CONLEY takes a brown plastic bottle out of his jacket pocket, hands it to TRUMP.]

The powder, like you asked for. One tablespoon in a glass of water.

[TRUMP puts the bottle on the desk.]

TRUMP: Terrific. Listen, I think the chloroquine thing went fantastic, got everyone riled up and showed some of the people we thought were our friends weren’t really our friends. That Neil Cavuto, boy, what a disappointment he turned out to be. But Bill Barr is happy. Bill Barr, Bill Barr, what’s that sound like? The elephant in the kids’ books, what was his name.

CONLEY: Babar, sir.

TRUMP: Babar, right. So listen, the press is still beating on Bill Barr Babar, Big Bill Barr Babar, Baby, so we gotta do another song and dance, and I’m gonna tell ‘em I’m taking disinfectant to prevent the coronavirus.

[Pause.]

CONLEY: Disinfectant.

TRUMP: Yeah. You remember the bit, right?

CONLEY: You mean like a household disinfectant, like —

TRUMP: Like Clorox, yeah. That oughta shake ‘em up. They’ll say oh shit Trump’s taking Clorox, what is he, nuts, and some people will say no, no, he’s a genius, he’s the greatest, back and forth, yap yap yap.

[TRUMP raises his hands and makes them into puppets yelling at each other.]

Yes he is, no he’s not! Yes he is no he’s not!

[CONLEY opens his bag.]

CONLEY: Mr. President, do you mind if I take your pulse?

TRUMP: Don’t bother because it’s like a drum solo. Bidda-bidda-bidda-bidda-bing-bong-ching! See, I’ve been taking extra doses of the formula and I feel super-cali-friggin’ great.

[CONLEY comes up with a stethoscope from the bag.]

CONLEY: Sir, your heart, I just want to make sure —

TRUMP: [Waving him off] I got it all figured out, Sean, they went nuts for the chloroquine and I gotta say, you were a big help with that letter, saying it was alright for me to take it.

[CONLEY fiddles ashamedly with his stethoscope.]

CONLEY: Sir, I’m — I’m not proud of that —

TRUMP: So all you gotta do now is say some more of the same bullshit, you know, “Maybe Clorox, there’s risk but there’s also benefit.” The press’ll go nuts and then no one’s paying attention and Bill Barr is past the bar! Get what I did there?

CONLEY: Sir, please. If I say that — if I say it’s okay for you to take Clorox —

[TRUMP holds a palm up to him.]

TRUMP: Hey. Hey. Sean. I'm the fuckin’ president. What are you worried about, your medical license? I’ll fix it. They were gonna pull the rummy’s law license, right? I fixed that.

[TRUMP gets up, crosses to the little breakfront where he keeps his formula, gets the box, brings it back to his desk.]

You know what Ronny Jackson’s doing now, right? He’s saying all the right things. Next thing you know he’ll be a Congressman, and then we’ll fuck that snot-eating piece of shit Ted Cruz and make him a Senator. President’s physician. Never happened before. And all because he played ball.

[TRUMP sits, dumps some of the formula onto the desk, pulls out a razor.]

So you gonna play ball, Sean?

[Small pause.]

CONLEY: [Defeated] How soon do you need it.

[TRUMP starts chopping formula.]

TRUMP: The morning’s good. Just send to Mark.

[TRUMP pulls out his metal straw. CONLEY seems to want to stop him.]

CONLEY: Sir, if we tell people you’re taking Clorox, some of them might start taking Clorox too.

TRUMP: So what? Are they your patients?

[TRUMP goes in for a snort.]

CONLEY: Sir!

TRUMP: [Holding straw back] What?

CONLEY: You know what, just, never mind, sir. With your permission I’ll go write that letter.

TRUMP: Vaya con Dios.

[CONLEY picks up his bag and walks to the door. TRUMP calls after him:]

Make me proud!

[CONLEY leaves. TRUMP snorts, wipes nose.]

Man, this is good shit.

[Punches his chest a few times.]

Goddamn heartburn.

[He grabs the bottle CONLEY left, opens it, dumps a bunch of the powder on the pile of formula, and starts to chop up another line as the CURTAIN falls.]