The old song and dance

But above all, dignity — always dignity

[The undressed stage of the Opera House at the Kennedy Center in Washington. JON VOIGHT, wearing a tuxedo and wig to make his hair look like DONALD TRUMP’s, stands center stage at the nexus of CHORUS GIRLS in rehearsal clothes. Seated on folding chairs on the stage, off to one side, are STEVEN MILLER, in his usual quasi-SS uniform, and ROB SCHNEIDER, dressed like C.B. DeBodine. The girls shimmy and gesture as, accompanied by an unseen pianist, VOIGHT gamely croons the new lyrics to “Mame” Trump performed in “Applause, Applause” back In 2021:]

VOIGHT: I gave a big tax cut to the rich —
GIRLS: Truh-ump!
VOIGHT: I told them Hil-la-ry is a bitch —
GIRLS: Truh-ump!
VOIGHT: Obama mocked and laughed at me, listen buddy, who is laughing now?
My wife starred in pornography, you are married to an ugly cow!
I whip the white folks into —

[The music stops; MILLER and SCHNEIDER leap to their feet. DONALD TRUMP strolls onto the stage in his Jackie-Gleason-in-Miami-Beach outfit. He has his now-traditional sullen, checked-out appearance and about a pound of orange makeup. VOIGHT and the girls regard him coolly. We see SECRET SERVICE AGENTS as dark forms on the periphery.]

MILLER: Mr. President, this is indeed an honor!

[Gestures grandly toward VOIGHT.]

Behold your avatar!

TRUMP: Avatar? That was the movie with the cat people. Not the same thing. This is Mame. Except now it’s Trump.

[Points at VOIGHT.]

Hey, how ya doin’.

VOIGHT: Hello, Mr. President!

TRUMP: Wanna talk to you.

VOIGHT: OK.

[TRUMP stands still awhile; clearly he’s waiting for VOIGHT to come to him. MILLER gestured madly for VOIGHT to do so.]

[To SCHNEIDER] Are we on a break, Rob?

SCHNEIDER: Absolutely! Whatever the President wants!

TRUMP: Forget it, I’ll go over there.

[TRUMP walks past the chorines. One of them smacks his arm, cries “Hey!”; two SECRET SERVICE AGENTS tackle her and hold her on the floor. TRUMP seems not to notice, though everyone else besides MILLER seems disturbed.]

VOIGHT: Mr. President, what the hell! [To SCHNEIDER] Rob, what are we doing here?

[SCHNEIDER pretends not to hear. TRUMP by now has reached VOIGHT.]

TRUMP: These girls are a dime a dozen.

VOIGHT: Sir, I’m, if you don’t release this woman I’ll walk out right now.

TRUMP: [After a beat] What do I care.

[TRUMP flutters his hand at the AGENTS and they help the woman to her feet.]

OK, now everybody’s happy. [To the AGENTS] Get dollface a cold compress and a place to calm down.

[The AGENTS escort her away.]

[To VOIGHT] Listen, you were in that Midnight Cowboy.

VOIGHT: Yes, I was.

TRUMP: Somebody told me those two guys, you and Dustin did a beautiful job by the way.

VOIGHT: Thank you.

TRUMP: He told me you were supposed to be fags. Is that so?

VOIGHT: It’s a little more complicated than that, sir.

TRUMP: Yeah, I don’t see it. So, Jon, this show. Very important. Now we got the Kennedy Center, we gotta show these people, no more fag stuff, no trannies or whatever. Now, I been watching you. You’re doin’ a lot of mincing around. I don’t like it.

VOIGHT: [His hands on his hips] Mincing around?

TRUMP: Yeah. Like when you walk, it’s —

[TRUMP flutters his hands in front of him like he’s looking for the word.]

— campy. I don’t walk like that.

[SCHNEIDER skulks over to them.]

VOIGHT: I have to tell you, Mr. President, I’ve been watching you and you definitely do have some feminine characteristics.

TRUMP: [Mad] What the hell you talking about? Huh? I’ll kill you, you tell people I got feminist characteristics!

VOIGHT: Frankly, Mr. President, this is between me and my director.

SCHNEIDER: [To TRUMP] You’re absolutely right, Mr. President. I’ve been trying to break him of it but he won’t listen. [To VOIGHT] Sorry, Jon, I got debts.

VOIGHT: [Sighs] OK, I tried. I’m out.

[VOIGHT walks out.]

TRUMP: You get back here! You got a contract!

VOIGHT [As he exits] Talk to the union.

TRUMP: Union? Since when is this a union show? [To SCHNEIDER] What about the girls?

SCHNEIDER: Equity, sir. Also all the actors. I thought you –

TRUMP: The stagehands?

SCHNEIDER: IATSE.

TRUMP: The piano player?

SCHNEIDER: AF of M.

TRUMP: Don’t tell me you’re in a union!

SCHNEIDER: SDC. But I can quit, sir! Just say the word –

TRUMP: Jesus Christ. [Yelling] Everybody out! You’re fired! You’re fired like I said on the show! OUT!

MILLER: [Gesturing grandly toward the wings] RRRRRAUS! RRRRRAUS!

[The GIRLS and a number of others who were offstage leave the theater, chased by MILLER, some giving TRUMP the finger as they go. Only SCHNEIDER and TRUMP remain.]

SCHNEIDER: Sir, we open in three weeks! Where am I going to get —

TRUMP: Relax. I got a guy, he gets us people for the rallies. They do showgirls too. And actors. That Candace Owens? She’d be dynamite for Agnes Gooch.

SCHNEIDER: [Hands to his head] What am I gonna tell Victoria Jackson? [Suddenly, a note of hope] So — sir — does this mean we have to recast Mame?

TRUMP: Whattaya, crazy? Melania has her heart set on it. And don’t worry, that Voight, he’s a crumb bum, we don’t need him. I got a guy, was gonna make him the understudy, but you know what, people are gonna love him in the lead. [Calls to the wings] OK, Bobby, come on out.

[ROBERT KENNEDY JR. comes out, dressed in a herringbone suit and black Vibram Five Fingers shoes.]

OK, Bobby. Show ‘em the new lyrics. [Calls offstage.] OK, play him in!

[Pause.]

SCHNEIDER: Mr. President, you fired the pianist, remember?

TRUMP: That’s OK. He’s just gonna lip-sych anyway. I figure we get Pavarotti or somebody behind the scenes. Just for laughs, though, let’s you and me back him up.

[TRUMP vamps a lead-in to the “Mame” verse; SCHNEIDER joins him. KENNEDY sways a little, then sings in his garbage-disposal voice, TRUMP and SCHNEIDER backing him up:]

Vaccines and SSRIs are dead —
Truh-ump!
Raw milk and psilocybin instead —
Truh-ump!
You can’t stop germs with medicine, that is just an old Big Pharma lie.
Just let that virus get us, and only old and crippled people die!
A little tincture under your tongue —
Truh-ump!
A healthy dish of bear meat and mung —
Truh-ump!
Goodbye, Pasteur and Jenner, no time for all your mumbo-jumbo now
We can be coprophagic
Our herbs and roots are magic
We’ll make the commons tragic, now —
Trump!