Dramatis Personae: President Trump – (PT); Vice President Pence – (VPP);
Scene 1: Trump Tower, Executive Suite. Monday 1pm. President Trump and Vice President Pence face to face around a small round office table. The table is littered with coffee cups and crumpled legal paper.
PT – Also no good? Alright, how about this one? Ten years ago, Putin knew that I was destined to be President. So, in order to destroy me he drugged me with Spanish fly and brainwashed me into sleeping with Stormy Daniels. It makes sense, right? It’s some form of Russian collusion and in a way my brain which is like a computer was hacked by Putin.
VPP – Stop! Enough! I’m sorry Mr. President but that’s enough. I can’t listen to even one more of these insane lies. I know you’re desperate but there isn’t one chance in a trillion that anyone, and I mean anyone would believe any of those stories.
PT – But then what can I do?
VPP – I know it’s a little late in the game but have you thought of the truth and an apology?
PT – Mike, that’s a brilliant idea. Why didn’t I think of that? Anyway, I’m going home right now and put your brilliant strategy into effect. Who knows? If this goes well I might even start telling the truth to Congress.
VPP – Mr. President, please take some time before you speak to her and try to understand her feelings about what you will be telling her. This will be a devastating conversation and you must be sensitive to her emotions and let her sense your sadness and contrition.
PT- Look Mike you came up with a good idea but don’t get all Dr. Phil on me. I think I know a thing or two about the ladies if you know what I mean. I’ll pour on the Trump charm and prove just how large my hands really are if you catch my drift. See ya Mike. (exits the room.)
VPP – Great Caesar’s Ghost. She’s going to murder him.
Scene 2 – Tuesday morning 3am outside the Vice Presidential Residence. Two men supporting a third man between them. The third man shakily ringing the doorbell.
VPP – (voice speaking over the intercom) Is that you Mr. President?
PT – Help me Mike. Please help me.
VPP – I’m buzzing you in. (the lock buzzes open).
Scene 3 – The Vice-Presidential Parlor. President Trump is slumped back on a chaise longue. He has several small bandages over cuts on his face, a noticeable black eye and a bag of ice sitting on his groin. The Secret Service agents appear embarrassed and Vice President Pence is standing nervously fiddling with his robe belt looking down on the President.
PT – You set me up Mike. I went into the lion’s den like some kind of roman martyr. I told her the truth and told her Stormy was over-rated as far as the sex went and that I’d make it up to her in the sack and that she didn’t look bad at all for her age.
VPP – Oh good grief.
PT – You have no idea. She went for the family jewels again so I curled up in a fetal position like they tell you to do with bears. But she was ready for that. She worked the face and and kidneys. She must have studied MMA or jiu-jitsu at some point. It took six Secret Service agents to get me out of there alive and two of them are at Walter Reed. One of them probably isn’t going to pull through.
VPP – Mr. President, I’m sure you’re exaggerating.
PT – Have you ever known me to exaggerate?
VPP – Never mind. How would you like me to help you?
PT – Well after that lousy advice I need you to redeem yourself and come up with an idea to fix this mess you’ve gotten me into.
VPP – (some strangled muffled sounds come from the Vice President’s throat and then there is quiet). Certainly Mr. President. I’ll attempt to provide you with better advice. Is there anything else I can do for you this morning?
PT – Yeah Mike. Can you get Mrs. Pence to make us some more eggs? This experience has been extremely taxing.
(more strangled sounds come from Pence and he leaves).
PT – He’s a great guy when he’s on his game. Alright guys help me into the dining room.