Extra Extra, Read All About It! Leprechaun Saves America From Donald Trump!

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This was originally posted on January 20, 2017, a day which will not live in the annals of comedy. Nobody was in the mood for humor that day. I wrote this piece to get over my depression, because laughter is the best medicine. I re-read the piece the other day and thought, “Oh, if only, if only it had really happened this way.” Crack open a cold one and I hope you enjoy. Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

“Donald’s Magical Moving Day, The Movie,” by Ursula Faw


ESTABLISHING SHOT. EXTERIOR. WASHINGTON, D.C. THE WHITE HOUSE. AFTERNOON.
CUT TO: INTERIOR. LONG SHOT. TRUMP STANDING IN THE HALLWAY TALKING ON THE TELEPHONE.
                                                                        TRUMP
                                                                      (on phone)
“Kellyanne, where is the bust of Vladimir?  I want that for the bedroom.  You know how important that is to me. All right, I’ll wait a little while.  But I’m not sleeping here tonight if that hasn’t been delivered.  That’s right, I feel that strongly about it.  What’s that? No, that’s not all.  Where’s the rest of Ivanka’s stuff that she made for me?…the nut bowls… I’ll tell you what nut bowls!!! The ones that are made of nickles and quarters that are in the bar down the street at the Trump Hotel!  Yes, Ivanka designed those. (pause) What do you mean, you sold those to the Red Roof Inn for cost?!  Eye, eye can’t bee-leave this!  I was yuugely fond of those nut bowls!  I was going to give them as gifts to foreign ambassadors!  Where’s the nearest Red Roof Inn, I want you to get them back! (pause) Look, just make sure that my gold leaf gets here because I don’t know exactly what I’ll want to change. This place is yuuuuuge.  Oh, and there’s too many pictures here, Kellyanne.  The portraits.  I don’t want to look at a bunch of paintings of old dead men. Well, I sort of thought that we could maybe get more mirrors — right, brighten the place up.  Ok, bye.”
                                                                         SOUND EFFECT
“Psst! Psst!”
                                                                        TRUMP
                                                        (looks around at the sound of hissing;
                                                          shakes his cell phone)
                    “Must be something wrong with this.  I’ll have to have Reince take it to the store. “
                                                                        SOUND EFFECT
                                                                         “Psst!”

TRUMP

(turns and sees a shadow darting down the hall)

“Hey, who’s there? I’m talking to you!”

(Trump lumbers towards the sound)

A VOICE

“Now calm down, boyo, you’ll be givin’ yourself a fit.”

TRUMP

(drops his phone, when a small being steps out of the shadows)

“Holy s*it! What are YOU?!”

FLANNERY

“The name’s Flannery. As to what I am, what do you think that I might be, you odmahun,* being three and a half feet tall, dressed in green velour and smokin’ a pipe? I live here too, ya know.”

TRUMP

“You live here? How?”

FLANNERY

“Why I was invited, don’t ya know.  I’ve lived here since that nice young Irishman graced these hallways.  Oh, he was a fine man, that one. Very beloved by the Irish and everyone else. The Irish don’t like you I must say. Nor their American cousins.  I don’t like you meself.”

TRUMP

“Hey, I’m the boss!”

FLANNERY

“Somebody’s boss, to be sure and somebody’s president, too, but not mine and not my kinfolk’s. Be that as it may, I am willing to help you, because I’m willing to help my fine adopted country. I have something that you need. Something that Lincoln left for his karmic twin, whomever that might be, and it turned out to be Kennedy. And Kennedy bequeathed it to all presidents worthy of the name. No Republican has ever gotten this legacy, it shouldn’t surprise ya, and the chances of you getting it are less than none. So I’m here to help.”

TRUMP

“Huh?”

FLANNERY

“Ah, you’re a dense one. Let me explain a bit more.  This legend of ‘the White House treasure’ has been rattlin’ around Skull & Bones and all the old boys’ clubs for some time now. Richard Nixon found out about it, and he was dyin’ to get his hands on it. He’d be liftin’ a glass by himself late at night and he’d go a wanderin’ down the halls talkin’ to Thomas Jefferson hangin’ there on the wall, and he’d be bangin’ on the floorboards, hopin’ to find the treasure somewhere.  He was quite a mess, especially towards the end. He thought that the treasure of Lincoln was somehow going to save him.  And he might have been right. Ironically, he didn’t know that the treasure of Lincoln was in fact, the treasure of knowledge. But Nixon never found it. LBJ was almost a wash-out but Carter found it, and Clinton as well, and Obama had no trouble a tall.”
                                                                           TRUMP
                                                            “Knowledge?”
                                                                            FLANNERY
“Oh, yes, the knowledge that the Pharohs and such had. The knowledge that every great leader has ever had since time immemorial and the knowledge that, without which, one cannot lead a tall.”
                                                                             TRUMP
                                                             “Treasure?  Here in the White House?”
                                                                              FLANNERY
                                                             “To be sure.”
                                                                              TRUMP
                                                              “Where is it?”
                                                                              FLANNERY
“Well, that’s why I’m here.  You need the knowledge more than anyone that I’ve ever encountered in all me born days, and certainly more than any leader I’ve ever known.  And I’ve known quite a few. Me cousin Shaunessy used to pop into Winston Churchill’s garden from time to time for a  chat. He took me with him once and we had a wee nip, the three of us, and sat around chewin’ the fat, but that’s a story for another day. The sun is movin’ across the sky, so and it ’tis, and I must be goin’. Nice chattin’ with ya.”
                                                                             TRUMP
“Wait, don’t go! I need the treasure. You have to help me!”
                                                                              FLANNERY
“Do I now?  And what’s in it for me?

TRUMP

“What do you want?”
                                                                              FLANNERY
“What have ya got?”
TRUMP
“I’m a billionaire…well, actually not, but Vladimir will help me, just name your price and I’ll call him and I’m sure….
                                                                               FLANNERY
“God God man, don’t waste my time! You think that I’d sell the knowledge of the Pharohs and the legacy of Lincoln and Kennedy for baubles!”
                                                                                TRUMP
“If not money…then what do you want?”
                                                                                FLANNERY
“Well, how about…how about your immortal soul?”
                                                                                TRUMP
“I don’t have that anymore.  I sold it to get here.  Actually, I sold it…a long time ago.”
                                                                                FLANNERY
“I thought so. Well, that’s truly a shame.  Although it’s a blessing that the dear Lord only gave us one soul apiece, and wouldn’t allow us to sell the souls of our wives or our children, yet unborn. There are those who would you know.”
                                                                                TRUMP
“That was discussed, too.  I promised Satan the entire Republican party, but he laughed in my face and said he already had them.”
                                                                               FLANNERY
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for a minute! Well, boyo, I’m going to do you a favor. Follow me. (They walk down the hall. Flannery reaches out and turns a knob.)  Here is the room. ” (In the darkness, Flannery opens a door that creaks on its hinges.  A musty smell pours out through the open door and Flannery strikes a match, illuminating cobwebs.)
                                                                                TRUMP
                                                                   “I can’t see!”
                                                                                FLANNERY
“Just get in here, ya dolt.  (The door slams shut behind Trump.)  “Now do as I say. Hold your arms out and take these boxes. Get a firm grip, now. And follow me.” (Flannery lights a candle and leads the way down a short, dark passage that narrows sharply as they advance.)
                                                                                TRUMP
                                                                    “Hey, I’m getting stuck! I weigh 300 pounds!”
                                                                                FLANNERY
“I’m not here to discuss your health, I’m here on behalf of the people, to try to save their bacon, not yours, truth be known. Here we are!” (Flannery slides open a panel and steps through an opening,  holding it for Trump to step through. Trump bends down sharply groaning, trying to avoid hitting his head on the bottom of the mantlepiece in the fireplace of the Oval Office.)
                                                                                  TRUMP
                                                                     “We’re in the Oval Office.”
                                                                                  FLANNERY
“Well, now that you’re here, I’d call it the Oaf-All Office, or maybe the Offal Orifice, sure and that’s what it is.”
                                                                                  TRUMP
                                                                        “Huh?”
                                                                                   FLANNERY
“Never mind. You’d better get to opening your gifts, Donald.”
                                                                                   TRUMP
“Oh, yes, my treasure.  The treasure of knowledge that will make me a great leader!  Ha, ha, ha!”
                                                                                    FLANNERY
“‘Tis no wonder you don’t laugh in public.  You do it horribly.”
                                                                                    TRUMP
“I know.  What’s this?” (Trump lifts a tag on the box and reads it. ‘Truthfullness.’ Trump fingers another tag. ‘Compassion.’) Say, what is this?! What are you trying to pull here?!”
                                                                                    FLANNERY
“Just open them as you come to them.  These are what every great leader has ever had, ever known.  And remember this: these gifts are individual. The way that you receive each piece of knowledge depends upon how profound the quality of what’s written on the tag is already in you.”
                                                                                     TRUMP
                                                                             “Whud you say?”
                                                                                     FLANNERY
“Someone’s coming Donald. Just open the boxes. I must be goin.”
                                                                                     TRUMP
                                    “Boxes?  You said that they were gifts!”
                                                                                     FLANNERY

“Oh, they are that, to be sure.  The gifts of the spirit and of a true and virtuous life.  And they’re available to anyone just for the takin.  What you’re able to make of them depends upon you, entirely.”
TRUMP

(Trump opens the box labeled “Truthfullness.” A scorpion comes out and stings his hand.)
“Ouuuucchhh!!! Flannery!  Help me.”
FLANNERY
“Afraid that I cunnot do that, Donald.  The truth hurts sometimes, you know.  Or perhaps you don’t know, you’ve had so little dealin’ with it. So long!”  (Flannery snaps his fingers and vanishes.)
                                                                                      TRUMP
(Trump opens the box marked “Compassion.” A skeleton’s hand comes out and slaps him in the face.  Then he claws open the one marked “Wisdom,” and snakes come out, hissing and snapping.)
“Aggghhh! Get off me, get off meeeeee! (sobbing) “Go waaaayyyy! Go waaaayyyyyy!”
CUT TO: CLOSE UP. REINCE PREIBUS TALKING ON THE PHONE.
“Hello, Kellyanne? Look, you’ve got to get over here, stat. Donald is freaking out.  He’s freaking OUT!  He’s on the floor, writhing around, and he’s yelling about snakes and rubbing his arms, saying, “Go away” to something that’s not there. Is that freaking out enough for you? (pause) Listen, Kellyanne, I didn’t want to mention this, but you know, well his father…Please, Kellyanne, he’s going to be in a treatment home someday for the same hereditary, irreversible, progressive brain disorder that killed his old man long before four years is up. He already showed signs before this!…alright then come over here, but make it pronto, because Mike and Steve and Rudy are on their way and if they see him like this it is not going to be pretty.”
CUT TO: EXTERIOR WHITE HOUSE. WIND BLOWS THROUGH THE LEAVES ON THE TREES. A VAN PULLS UP. DOOR SLAMS, A SCARFED FIGURE RUNS IN THE PORTICO DOOR.
CUT TO: INTERIOR. SAME FIGURE AS OUTSIDE ENTERS THE ROOM WHERE REINCE STANDS.
                                                                   REINCE
(Seeing a charwoman come in, he goes to her to block her view of what’s going on.)
“Uh, hello, ma’am, we don’t need any cleaning done in here right now…”
                                                                   KELLYANNE
“It’s me you idiot!” (Kellyanne pulls off her scarf.) “Here!” (She shoves a bundle of cloth at Reince.)
                                                                   REINCE
                                                         “What’s this?”
                                                                   KELLYANNE
“Just put them on. stupid, and be quick about it! I’ve got a truck parked outside the French doors! Hurry!”
CUT TO: LONG SHOT.  A CLEANING LADY AND A JANITOR HUSTLE A BUNDLED UP OLDER MAN INTO A VAN. The older man has his arms crossed in front of him like he’s wearing a strait jacket.
                                                                     FLANNERY

“Well, now, that’s that. Garbage in garbage out. (Flannery puffs on his pipe.) Sort of like Guy Fawkes day, without all the fuss. The moral of this wee tale is, “Virtue is its own reward and lack of virtue…is its own reward too. Oh, and immigrants, we get the job done. Time to go home and watch me Twilight Zone re-runs. Sliante!**”

(Flannery leaps into the air and clicks his heels together.  As his heels touch there’s a burst of white smoke and he vanishes.  The white smoke curls up into the sky as we hear the sound of sirens squealing in the background, and a harvest moon appears on the horizon next to the Washington Monument in the distance.)

The End
___________
*odmahun — idiot

** Sliante! — Irish blessing pronounced “slan-sha.” The Irish use it to toast one another’s health.

HAPPY ST. PATRICK’S DAY!!!!

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16 Comments on "Extra Extra, Read All About It! Leprechaun Saves America From Donald Trump!"

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Denis Elliott
Member

If only…

LoHa
Guest

That was a fun St. Patrick’s day tale. May we all get the luck of the Irish soon!

Anastasia P
Guest

Loved this!

wellwhatamess
Member

The one thing keeping me sane at the moment is watching Obama.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NxFkEj7KPC0

mae
Member

Hello! How are you doing? And Ursula, this was great.😊( wellwhatamess, this is Cmae, by the way.)

underwriter505
Guest

For next year, how about a sequel with the leprechaun’s dealing with Pence?