by Roving Reporter, ©2022
(Aug. 10, 2022) — “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to ‘The Pulse of the Nation,’ the place to hear it here first. As you can see, we’re at the playhouse for the premier of Madam Shylock’s new play, ‘Another Angel Wings Test.’ Let’s watch together; the lights are dimming as the curtain lifts.
As the curtain rises, the pit orchestra plays ‘Chopin’s Funeral March’ (2:41) to the stage set as the Pearly Gates. St. Peter is in the process of interviewing a young man dressed as a South Side Chicago hoodlum.
“Face it, Kenny, you’re dead. Dead as a doornail. Now, please answer my question: did you mean to mess up in such a grandiose fashion, or do we blame it on the alignment of the stars?”
“You’re supposed to say something along the lines of, ‘Pardon me, but could you please repeat the question, this time in my vernacular?’”
“Look, kid, I’m trying to help you get inside these gates because you don’t want the alternative, trust me.”
“Where am I?”
“Look, you’re dead. You were shot and now you’re dead. I’m St. Peter and you’re being interviewed for a ticket to go through this-here door.”
“It was all a mistake, I’m telling you. I was in the back seat, for cryin’ out loud. I didn’t shoot nobody; I was just along for the ride.”
“But you still had a rap sheet a mile long.”
“All a mistake. They never pinned anything on me.”
“Look, kid, I’m here to give you an out, and the way this interview is going, you’re going to need it. Now just listen and don’t interrupt. You’re just about one ‘say what’ away from spending eternity down under.”
“Look, you gotta take this seriously because there’s no second chance, although I’m kind-of giving you one. Here’s the deal: you’re a bad kid but you’re not all bad; pretty much, but not all, so here’s the deal. I’ll send you back to earth and your task will be to convince Biden to abdicate his presidency and go back to his basement and stay there. Do you think you can do that?”
“How do you expect me to do that? He don’t know me and, besides, I’m supposed to be dead, am I right?”
“Dead right. No, you go back down there disguised as whatever you think you need to get the job done. Maybe you want to be one of the guards at the gate to the White House, or maybe some Secretary, like maybe the Secretary of Defense.”
“No, I wouldn’t know what to say or even how to say it. Make me a chef.”
“Ah, okay, but you know there’s all kinds of chefs. You have your Executive Chef, Sous-Chef, Line Cooks, Pastry Chef, Bread Maker…”
“Hold it; go back. I think I like the idea of Pastry Chef.”
“Alright, you got it. I’ll give you one week to make Biden resign and go home to his basement. Good luck to you, son.”
The curtain lowers as the orchestra plays ‘Serenade for Cello & Orchestra Op. 37’ (3:54).
Curtain rises as ‘Bach Prelude No. 7’ (1:59) is played. The stage is set as a corner of a large kitchen, cooks dressed in white uniforms in the background, each scurrying, stirring and scrutinizing receipts as Kenny is kneading a hunk of dough to the song, ‘The Adventures of Brer Rabbit Soundtrack’ (2:54). The cooks dance to the music as Kenny sings the lead. At the end of the song all goes back to normal work mode.
Enter the Master Chef in Kenny’s area, who hands him a note.
“I want you to write — no, I want you to print these words on the cake: ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MR. PRESIDENT, THEN CUT A SLICE AND HAND IT TO THE FIRST LADY AND THEN GO SIT AND DON’T SAY A WORD. REMEMBER HOW TO USE A NAPKIN.’ Make the letters 3” tall; no, on second thought make them 4.” Can you do that?”
“For sure, Chef. What color icing and the letters?”
“White icing for the cake and make the letters dark blue, or black if you have it.”
The Chef exits while Kenny muses:
“Now’s my chance. I’ll write: ‘I WILL BE LEAVING FOR MY BASEMENT SOON, BUT BEFORE I DO, I STOLE THE ELECTION. TRUMP WON; GOODBYE, AND I REMEMBER HOW TO USE A NAPKIN.’ That should do it, or maybe I should take the subtle approach and write, ‘TRUMP WON; I’M GOING TO THE BASEMENT; I REMEMBER HOW TO USE A NAPKIN.’ Yes, I think I’ll use the second one; it’s shorter, to the point and Joe will read it without too many mistakes.”
Kenny removes the 3’ x 4’ cake from the oven and starts to ice it. The scene ends as Kenny folds his apron and exits stage right. Curtain lowers as ‘Moonlight Mile’ (1:28) is played by the pit orchestra.
As the curtain rises, the ‘House of the Rising Sun’ (2:54) is heard. The stage is set as a State Dinner with every seat occupied as the trolley with the cake is pushed in by Kenny.
“On behalf of the kitchen crew, Happy Birthday, Mr. President, and here is your birthday cake, as requested.”
“It’s my birthday? I wonder how old I am. Does anyone know or not know, as the case may be? It says that I know how to use a napkin; I think I know how to use a napkin. Now that’s funny. I think I’ll cut a slice of pie, or is it cake? Thank you for being here, or there where you are. I’m going to take my second or third nap so … (Biden exits stage left, turns around and walks to the right, stops, and steps down into the orchestra pit, stumbles over the tuba player and makes his way up the center aisle of the theater, stops, and steps over the feet in row 17 and out the EXIT door). The curtain lowers to the music of ‘New Orleans Jazz Funeral March’ (1:38).
The curtain rises to the music of Debussy’s ‘Petite Piece’ (1:56) to the stage set as in Act I. Kenny, still in white Chef’s uniform, enters from stage right as St. Peter waves him over.
“I’m really sorry your plan failed, Kenny, but the rules aren’t made to be broken; therefore, you don’t get any wings.”
“You mean I’m going down to the basement?”
“I’m afraid so, although we don’t call down there to the basement. You had a chance, but what was really against you was your cavalier attitude towards your country.”
“It’s not that you never voted; that you never, not once, even registered is what swayed the decision to send you down there. Forget throughout history; just in the last century alone millions have fought and died for the freedoms that Americans enjoy, as guaranteed by the Constitution.”
“And that’s it, you went from day to day, never realizing what the freedoms you had cost, not a clue. You will burn and suffer forever because you had many chances to do right yet you did wrong. You and Liz Cheney will spend eternity together, now how does that grab you?”
“Not so good and I may be stupid but I know I don’t want anything to do with that witch.”
“Here’s how it works, for real, in the real world. A person who is eligible to vote automatically votes for whoever wins the election.”
“But I never registered.”
“Doesn’t matter because you could have if you gave a hoot, which you didn’t, so you burn. You have to accept the consequences of your laziness, and that’s just the way the cookie crumbles. There are a lot more stupid people down below than up above.”
“I’m going down there because I’m stupid?”
“Lazy. You know, Kenny, Arlington National cemetery is full of Patriots and they’re all in Heaven, but not you. There are some Dems in Heaven, but none since the day Barry Soetoro (aka Obama) was the de facto president. Too bad you couldn’t convince Biden to stand on his own two feet and do the right thing for once in his life. He’ll be joining you, by the way, him, and his gangster family. Off you go now.
And then Kenny disappears in a puff of smoke as the curtain lowers to ‘Grand Canyon Suite: On the Trail’ (3:05).
“And that’ll do it for us. The moral of the play? Vote. Hope you enjoyed Madam Shylock’s play as much as I. Goodnight.”