PROLOGUE: [Spoken in a deep voice over images of a crumbling Mar-a-Lago] In 2022 — back when America was great again — a group of brave MAGA men held out against the Deep State in a modest country hotel and golf resort in Florida known as The Mar-a-Lago. Their stand was doomed, but to this day it serves as an inspiration to those who came after.
[A chandeliered banquet hall at Mar-a-Lago. Curtains are pulled shut. Chairs are propped against doorknobs. Tables, chairs, and food trolleys are scattered. Four men are seated: TRUMP, wearing a fluffy white robe with gold trim over a beige polo shirt, grey sweatpants, and brogans, sits with one foot up eating KFC out of a bucket, white linen napkins all over his lap. RUDY GIULIANI, in a rumpled suit, is eating roast beef and new potatoes from a plate with his fingers. Disgraced former NYPD Commissioner BERNARD KERIK, in a nattier suit, eats a turkey wrap and drinks a Saranac Clouded Dream IPA. STEPHEN MILLER, wearing some sort of modified SS uniform with black boots, nibbles trail mix from a leather pouch. Golf cart parked nearby,]
GIULIANI: Kinda quiet tonight.
TRUMP: It’s off-season.
KERIK: August is off-season?
GIULIANI: I mean quiet like “too quiet,” like in the movies, you know, when they say “yeah, too quiet.”
KERIK: We know they’re gonna make their move. Nothing to do but wait.
GIULIANI: And get pensive.
TRUMP: “Pensive”? Hey, fuckface, this is not a “pensive” crew.
MILLER: Ja. We are men of action. Männer der Tat.
TRUMP: Rudy’s a Man der Tater Tot. Lookit him eating with his fingers, it’s disgusting.
[TRUMP throws one of his napkins at GIULIANI.]
GIULIANI: [Pointing] The cutlery’s all the way over there!
KERIK: Boss, you think they might come tonight?
TRUMP: You’re the security expert. You tell me. [Jerks a thumb at KERIK; to no one in particular] Gets caught fucking his girlfriend at Ground Zero. Some shamus!
GIULIANI: Well, you know, if this is really it, then we should talk about what we believe in. Like in the John Wayne movie.
TRUMP: John Wayne was a fag.
MILLER: I remember the scene. The men are outnumbered. Waiting for the end. They talk of God and meaning. But they are weak! They will not admit they want the land for their slave empire! Bah! No wonder they were killed!
KERIK: Yeah? Then how do you explain San Jacinto?
MILLER: Nobody’s perfect. Even the Führer bobbled the endgame. But we will not make the same mistake!
[MILLER pulls out and holds up a Luger. Everyone groans.]
TRUMP: Hey, Colonel Klink, put that away. You know the Proud Boys are the ones who’ll do the killing, and we got a bunch of ‘em coming in.
Hey, Monty Wooley, whattaya got for us.
PIERRE: I’m afraid, sir, the Proud Boys are not coming.
MILLER: Gott in Himmel!
TRUMP: Well, what the fuck, Pete.
PIERRE: Half of them are in jail, Mr. President, and half are government informants. And my name is Pierre, sir.
TRUMP: Whatever, grab a snack, kid, looks like –
[A WAITER appears.]
WAITER: Excuse me, Mr. Trump, the FBI is here, they say they have a warrant —
[With surprising alacrity TRUMP launches himself into the driver’s seat of the gold cart; the others, howling, pile into it, and it sputters off with the men hanging out of it like a Fall of Saigon helicopter. Music comes up — To the tune of “Green Leaves of Summer”:]
MALE CHORUS: Ooo oooo —
A time to bilk suckers
A time to do rallies
The sweet grifts of MAGA
Like soft feather beds
It was good to be MAGA
When the pickings were easy
Until all MAGA grifters
Got caught by the feds
A time to plea-bargain
For secret confessions
To implicate Donald
In ev’ry last grift
It was good to be MAGA
And we made lots of cash
But when Trump goes to prison
We’re pleading the Fifth
Ooooo ooo —