30 January 2017
Scene: The Oval Office. Enter Supreme Chancellor Donald Trump and Vice Chancellor Mike Pence. Both are breathing heavily. Pence leans on his knees. Trump barricades the door with chairs and small tables. He leans back against the barricade, as if to provide additional support. His comb over stands straight up. Sweat runs down his face. His face glistens. The sweat makes his foundation clump up into weird globules.
Trump: You’re sure we left it in here, right, Mike? You’re positive we never filed it?
Pence rifles through Trump’s Resolute desk. He pulls entire drawers off their tracks and turns them upside-down, and their contents spill out on the floor. He presses various hidden buttons, and secret drawers pop out, and he tears those out, too.
Pence: It has to be somewhere in here. We’ve been so disorganized, we haven’t properly filed anything. I’ve been stuffing executive orders in your desk like they were credit card bills.
Trump looks incredibly nervous. He makes whimpering sounds indicating as much.
Pence: Ah, here it is.
Pence holds up a thin black binder. There is a heavy pounding on the door.
Trump: Shit, shit, shit.
Federal agent: Open up, sirs! This is the F.B.I.! You’re in ironic violation of that immigration ban you signed yesterday!”
Trump: You won’t take us alive!
Pence glances up from the binder.
Pence: Don, you can’t say that to them. They might take you literally but not seriously. Or something.
Trump: Shit. I forgot about that. Never mind! Forget what I said! You have to take us alive! In fact, I’m right now drawing up an executive order stating you have to count to thirty before you break in here, and that you have to be really nice to us! Maybe come in with sandwiches? And women! Bring women! That should buy us some time, Mike.
Pence: Where do you keep the white out?
Trump: I don’t make mistakes, so I’ve never needed it. What even is it? White out. Sounds antithetical to everything we stand for, Mike. Do you like that word I used, Mike? “Antithetical?” I just learned it this morning. Ivanka taught it to me.
Pence: Very good, Mr. Supreme Chancellor. We may not need the white out. We can just make a slight addition or two. You’ll need to initial it in places, though.
Federal agent: We counted to thirty! We’re coming in!
Trump: Do you have sandwiches?
Federal agent: N-no? What do you want?
Pence: Plain turkey. Nothing on it. White bread.
Trump: Turkey with nothing on it! I’ll take a Reuben. Can you get a Reuben?
Mumbling and whispering from the other side of the door.
Federal agent: Yeah. Yeah we can get a Reuben.
Trump: And ketchup on the side?
Federal agent: [To himself] Gross. [To Trump] We’ll make it work, sir.
Pence: The women.
Trump: Will you bring the women?
Federal agent: They’re all out protesting at airports.
Pence: Gosh darn it.
Trump: Can you just bring a couple nudie magazines?
Federal agent: You just want the ones from the bathroom?
Trump: Just the upstairs bathroom. Mike won’t like the magazines in the downstairs bathroom.
Pence’s face goes white. Well, whiter.
Pence: Look, Don, we need to change this executive order. Like, now.
Trump: I know, I know. I just want to be prepared.
Silhouetted figures move in the window behind Pence.
Trump: Shit, Mike, they’re coming in through the window!
Trump grabs the binder from Pence. He opens it and runs his pen down the papers inside and mouths the words to himself.
Pence: There it is, right there.
Pence points to a passage in the order. It reads:
In order to protect Americans, the United States must ensure that those admitted to this country do not bear hostile attitudes toward it and its founding principles. The United States cannot, and should not, admit those who do not support the Constitution, or those who would place violent ideologies over American law. In addition, the United States should not admit those who engage in acts of bigotry or hatred (including “honor” killings, other forms of violence against women, or the persecution of those who practice religions different from their own) or those who would oppress Americans of any race, gender, or sexual orientation.
Trump removes the cap from his pen.
Pence: Man, I don’t know how we missed it.
Trump: This is only the second time I’ve read it. Describes us to a “T,” doesn’t it.
Pence: That last sentence is a whopper. It’s like basically a character sketch of the two of us.
Trump: Mike, please don’t talk about food until the sandwiches get here. Now what should I write?
The window shatters. A federal agent wearing full combat gear grabs Pence and drags him out through the window.
Pence: Ahhh! Don! Hurry!
Trump: [Shaking and extremely nervous] What do I write, Mike?
Pence: Just add, “Unless you’re a white guy and want to persecute minorities and degrade women really, really badly, then it’s all gravy!”
Trump scribbles in the binder. His tongue protrudes from the corner of his mouth, denoting extreme concentration. There’s more banging on the door.
Trump: There, I did it, Mike. Mike?
The door bursts off its hinges.
Federal agent: You’re under arrest, sir!
Trump: Wait! I changed it! I changed it! It’s all O.K. now!
Federal agent reads rewritten executive order.
Federal agent: Huh. So you did. Well, you are white.
Trump: And I’ve gone through a whole lot to make this kind of discrimination possible.
Federal agent: So you have, sir. Well, looks like it’s all gravy, then. You have a nice day, sir.
Trump: Did you not bring the sandwiches?