Election Day! New! Improved! (Members only)

by David Benjamin

OVAL OFFICE — (A group of aides around POTUS, all quaking in their wingtips. The papers they hold in their trembling hands make a gentle rustling sound, like dead leaves in a wasteland.) 

AIDE #1: “Your Eminence, there’s bad news.”

POTUS: “Bad news? I hate bad news. Who the hell are you? Never mind. I don’t care. Jared, fire this bastard.”

JARED: “You’re fired, Bob.”

(Heaving a sigh of relief, Aide #1 scurries away.)

AIDE #2: (Avoiding the peril of a preamble) “The Constitution, your Holiness, does not allow a president to postpone or cancel an election… uh, sir.”

(Smoke curls from POTUS’ ears.)

JARED: “That tears it, Dave. You’re fired.”

AIDE #2: “Whew. Thanks!” (He flees, as other aides watch enviously.)

POTUS: “Traitors! Who hired them. Nasty! Disrespectful. Disgraceful! Sad! Besides, I don’t need to postpone anything, right? I’m winning. Yoogely! The women, the Hispanics, the poorly educated, they love me. I’ve done more for the blacks than anyone ever! Lincoln? He got shot. I like people who weren’t shot.”

AIDE #3: (One foot pointed toward the door) “I’m so terribly sorry, your Excellency, but the truth is… well, you’re losing. Everywhere. The polls — ”

POTUS: (Sticking his fingers in his ears) “Fake news fake news fake news FAKE NEWS! Jared, get him out — ” 

(However, Aide #3 is already on the way out the door, clicking his heels and humming a show tune from Rogers and Hammerstein. The others follow.)

JARED: (Whispering) “Actually, you are losing, sir. You’re even behind in Texas. Vladimir is doing his darnedest, but golly, that might not be — ”

POTUS: (He explodes) “Not NOT losing! Get out of my sight You’re fi — ”

JARED: “You can’t fire me, dude. I’m your son-in-law.”

POTUS: (Scratching his head — carefully, so as not to muss his goldilocks) “Well then, dammit. Fire somebody! Fire her!”

(He interrupts his habitual hand-flapping and points at a woman.)

IVANKA: “Daddy, you silly goose. I’m your daughter.”

POTUS: (Softening. His face  goes from deep crimson to cantaloupe orange). “Oh, is that you, honeybunch? C’mere, sit in Daddy’s lap.”

IVANKA: (Occupying POTUS’ lap.) Mm, Dad, is that a gun, or — ”

JARED: “We have an idea, sir.”

(POTUS isn’t listening to Jared. Ivanka, nuzzling POTUS’ face, takes over.)

IVANKA: “Face it, Daddy. You’re circling the drain. Even with voter purges and ID rejections. Even if you sabotage polling places, burn ballot boxes in black neighborhoods, nuke the Post Office and send mailmen to Gitmo, you’re gonna end up in the dead-letter bin.”

POTUS: “That’s fake — ”

IVANKA: (She guides his hand away from Thighland.) “Daddy, look around. There’s no audience to lie to. Listen to Jared.”

JARED: “Sir, all is not lost — if we privatize!”

POTUS: “Privatize… like a country club? Yeah, I like that. Privatize what?”

JARED: “The election, sir. The whole shootin‘ match!”

POTUS: (His eyes glisten) “Golly, kids, is that legal?”

JARED: “Do you care?” 

(They all laugh out loud.)

IVANKA: “Here’s how it goes: We introduce the first totally secure subscription-only digital election. Privatize and democratize. Everybody can vote. On social media — Facebook, LinkedIn, YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, WhatsApp, 8chan, Breitbart, QAnon, RT, Fancy Bear, Cozy Bear, Yogi Bear — anywhere people loiter in cyberspace. But we make ’em register first. (What’s more American than voter registration?) Name, email, address, phone numbers, Social Security and Medicare, credit cards, PINs! Every voter shielded behind a secret password known only to the voter and every troll, hacker, GRU geek and cybercrook from Serbia to Singapore. Of course, each voter would have to  pay a nominal fee for the privilege. I mean, really, Daddy, why should voting be free?”

POTUS: “It shouldn’t. It’s worth a fortune. But how do we — ”

JARED: “Easy, sir! You plop down at the Resolute desk. You announce that you’ve dreamed up one of those huge folding executive orders. Steve Miller writes it up. You won’t have to read it. You just deface it with your Sharpie and spread that baby wide open for all America to see. You don’t mention that every fee-paid vote includes a rakeoff for Zuckerberg, Tim Apple and the Lords of Skynet! You announce that your order takes effect immediately, because time is of the essence. Bill Barr declares it really, totally legal because of the national Covid-19 crisis. Then, before anybody else can even think about a restraining order, you go to court with a preemptive strike that snatches democracy away from the riffraff and turns it over to Justice Roberts and the Four Stooges— who move the case along at the pace of a pig swallowed by a constipated python. Meanwhile, we’re in business!”

POTUS: “Gee whiz! This sounds keen!”

IVANKA: “Next, you go to the press and say it would be unconscionable, unconstitutional, unAmerican, horrible and terribly sad to delay an election! Shame on the Democrats for thinking of it! Everyone must vote, you cry. On November 3rd! Online! Right now! Vote early! Vote often! Vote for Daddy!” 

JARED: “Okay, here’s the beauty part, sir. Everyone who votes for you — once, twice, fifty times — at a dollar a vote…”

IVANKA: “Cheap at the price!”

JARED: “Right. Every buck-a-vote that goes to you, goes straight into the system. Saved. But the others, the ones who click Biden and that nasty mulatto…”

POTUS: “What’s a mulatto?”

IVANKA: “Those faithless voters will be registered, like everyone else. We’ll know who they are and where they live. We’ll get their dollar like everyone else. But then, when they hit “SUBMIT”? Well… boink! They’ll sit there — staring at that stupid spinning circle ’til Christmas. ’Til your inauguration day.”

JARED: “’Til Hell freezes over, sir.”

POTUS: “Terrific. But, isn’t this…”

IVANKA: “Fraud?”

JARED: “Of course it is, sir. How else do you expect to get re-elected? Have you seen the polls?”

IVANKA: “Daddy, get real. Does Trump University ring a bell? The Trump Foundation? All County Building Supply & Maintenance? Trump steaks? Trump wine? Trump tampons? Deutsche Bank? Daddy, fraud is what you do. Own it! Fraud is the family frigging business! How do you think I got my fashions brand into China, for Pete’s sake? Do I look like I know the first thing about fashion?”

POTUS: “But won’t nasty Nancy and chickenheart Chuck — ”

JARED: “Not to worry, sir. They’re liberals. They can’t help but play fair. They’ll issue statements, raise objections, draft resolutions. While they fiddle, you’ll be on FIRE! Millions of votes rolling in, all counted by low-wage workers in Manila sweatshops. We’re talkin‘ the most American event anyone’s ever seen. A free-enterprise, cash-and carry election, sir! It’s McDonald’s and Goldman Sachs and Aunt Jemima Pancakes!”

POTUS: (Thoughtfully) “Okay, so when we pull this off, can I finally put my name on the White House?”

IVANKA: “Daddy, please. Think bigly. The Capitol Dome. The Alamo! The Empire State Building! Mount Rushmore!”