© 2017 Greg Skidmore, used under a Creative Commons license

[What looks like a disused hallway in a grand old Neoclassical mansion such as the White House. Period-appropriate plastering, wainscoting and trim, all a bit dusty, lit by shaded sconces. A couple of folding chairs and boxes about. Standing here are Vice-President JD VANCE, wearing one of his customary shoddy Trump-suit knockoffs; and former Presidential advisor/Nazi STEVE BANNON, in his traditional multiple button-down shirts, unflattering double-knit pants, and chestnut Duclos. VANCE seems a little agitated, though he smiles nervously.]

BANNON: So you know what’s going on? You do know?

VANCE: [A bit loud] Well, one thing’s for sure, Steve, I sure never had anything to do with Jeffrey Epstein and those girls!

[Small pause. BANNON narrows his gaze.]

BANNON: OK OK were you not, did no one tell you not to refer to “Epstein” and “girls” in the same sentence.

VANCE: Well, hey, now, Steve —

[Makes a reciprocating gesture with his hands.]

— this is us. There’s no one else around. I’m not saying anything bad happened with anyone that had anything to do with Jeffrey Epstein and President Trump and, well, you, I mean you know.

BANNON: Underage girls.

VANCE: Whoa! Hey! Whoa! You said it, not me, amigo. That is definitely not something I would ever, ever say.

BANNON: JD, you look flustered.

VANCE: Mr. Vice-President.

BANNON: JD, listen. Some people, when they get flustered, they reveal things that they don’t want to reveal. Human nature. But I’ve seen you flustered, JD. And, always, when you’re flustered, you just say nonsense that doesn’t have anything to do with anything. So if you’re acting flustered, and instead of going “I don’t know, whatever makes sense,” you’re saying things about the President and underage girls, I have to think you’re doing it on purpose.

VANCE: Ha, ha, whoa, hey, buddy!

BANNON: That’s what I see.

VANCE: Well, you see wrong!

BANNON: Are you doing it on purpose?

[VANCE takes a napkin out of his jacket pocket and wipes his brow.]

VANCE: Hey, now, Steve, look, we’re talking about the Presi — I don’t think — if they asked me I’d say, hey, I don’t know —

BANNON: See, I don’t think that’s true.

VANCE: — whatever the President says, his word is — [As if he just heard him; sharply] Hey! [Points his finger] That’s out of line, buddy! Don’t you call me a liar!

BANNON: I don’t think it’s true and I’m going to tell the President that’s what I think.

VANCE: Oh, you are?

BANNON: Yes.

VANCE: You are?

BANNON: Yes.

VANCE: You are not.

BANNON: Who do you think the President is going to believe, JD?

VANCE: You — you —

BANNON: Who will he believe?

VANCE: You are not!

[VANCE takes a step closer to BANNON. He is angry, breathing hard. BANNON does not react.]

You’re not saying shit! Hey! Look! You try anything and you’re dead, Bannon! You hear me? Try and fuck me and I’ll kill you. I’m not, you’re not, I’m not taking the fall for this shit! Fuck him! I’m gonna be President of the United States! You’re not gonna stop me because guess what? I’m not some little pussy, I’m a Marine! I killed men in Iraq and I’ll kill you! You understand?

[BANNON’s eyes roll back in his head and he collapses. VANCE freezes and stares at him for a good eight seconds.]

Steve?

[Pause. VANCE crouches next to BANNON, starts to examine him but recoils. He stands, looks around, starts to trot away.]

VOICE: Where ya goin’, JD?

[VANCE freezes. From one direction, the flunkies PINSY and DIBBS from our Mar-a-Lago sketches enter; from another, DONALD TRUMP enters.]

VANCE: Hi, Mr. President. Hi. What, what are you guys doing here?

TRUMP: [Gestures to the fallen BANNON] What’s this?

[PINSY and DIBBS crouch by BANNON.]

VANCE: [Shrugs, nervously] I don’t know, we were just shooting the breeze, sir, and he fell down. Two seconds ago. I don’t know. I guess drugs?

PINSY: He dead!

[VANCE goes ashen. DIBBS is going through BANNON’s shirts.]

TRUMP: Huh. Well, we all gotta go sometime. [To VANCE] What’d you do to him?

VANCE: Nothing! Sir. We were just talking.

TRUMP: Why’d you bring him down to this shithole?

VANCE: What! No! Sir! No! He told me to meet him here!

[DIBBS has taken an iPhone out of BANNON’s shirts; he clicks playback on Voice Memos:]

VOICE MEMOS: “You’re not gonna stop me because guess what? I’m not some little pussy, I’m a Marine! I killed men in Iraq and I’ll kill you! You understand?”

[DIBBS clicks the recording off, puts the phone in his own pocket. PINSY whistles.]

PINSY: That don’t sound good.

VANCE: No, that’s just, kidding, we were kidding, he, he, he fell, he just fell, I didn’t touch him, sir, Mr. President, you gotta believe me.

DIBBS: Question is, will a jury believe you?

PINSY: Yeah, jury.

TRUMP: You better lay low a while, JD. Cancel your appointments.

PINSY: Yeah, you sick.

TRUMP: [To PINSY] Shut up. [To VANCE] Take off, fuckface.

[VANCE runs off. Pause. BANNON stirs, starts to get up.]

PINSY: Look! He resurrect!

TRUMP: [To DIBBS] Help him up.

BANNON: [Gasping] I got it, I got it. [Laughs.] Think I’ll stay down a while. Ha! That was, wow. Film noir.

TRUMP: Who’s Phil Marr?

DIBBS: It’s a genre.

[DIBBS pulls out a flask, offers it to BANNON.]

BANNON: Thanks, but I got something better.

[BANNON crawls over to the boxes, pulls out what looks like a roach spray fogger, puts it in the center of the hallway.]

You guys ever do an Eight-Bomb?

TRUMP: Lay it on us, Steve.

PINSY: This drugs? Oh boy!

[BANNON pushes in a button and the fogger starts filling the room with mist. DIBBS pulls out a chair and TRUMP lowers himself onto it.]

TRUMP: What the hell, been a hard week.

[Soon all of them are concealed by the fog, but can be heard breathing deep.]

BANNON: Can you imagine that asshole in front of a grand jury?

[Laughter, coughing.]