Repost: Bush Goes to Hell

A short play

Setting: Time is the near future. Location is Hell.

At rise: Dressed in pajamas, George W. Bush stands in front of Satan who is sitting at a tall desk scribbling in a book. A stone-faced devilish guard stands next to the very nervous Bush. Flames, smoke and the screams of damned souls provide the backdrop. The guard and Bush stand for an uncomfortably long time as they wait for the scribe behind the desk to acknowledge their presence.

SATAN
(continues writing for several beats, then adds a period with a flourish of his pen.)
There. Okay.
(looks up and smiles)
Ah. Mr. Bush. It’s an honor to have you here, Sir.
BUSH
(visibly distraught)
Where?
SATAN
(exchanges knowing smiles with the guard)
Where. That’s good. I was told you had a sense of humor.
BUSH
Where am I?
SATAN
Please, Mr. President. I think even you can figure that out.
BUSH
But this looks like Hell.
SATAN
(feigns a hurt expression)
Well, it’s not the West Wing, but we call it home.
BUSH
No I mean, Hell. Is this Hell?
(Satan smiles and touches his nose)
But, it’s all wrong. How can this be? I…I was a Christian, a true believer….
SATAN
(patiently closes his book and leans forward)
President Bush, surely you don’t stand before me without a clue as to why you are here.
BUSH
I can’t…
(pause)
Was it…all that stuff back in Texas…the partying and all…?
SATAN
The nose candy? The bottomless Gin & Tonic? The young, pretty things…? Actually, no. You were a wild one, I have to give you credit, but if we had every human who screwed up as a young adult, the place would be packed tighter than Pamela Anderson’s bra.
BUSH
Than what am I doing here?
SATAN
(to guard)
Is he for real?
(guard shrugs his shoulders. Satan turns back to Bush)
Listen, let’s take a little walk and we can discuss this.
(He indicates the guard can leave, then comes from around his desk and takes Bush by the arm. They walk around the stage slowly.)
George…you don’t mind if I call you George, do you?
BUSH
I prefer Mr. President, but—
SATAN
(ignoring him)
George, you were president of the most powerful nation on earth. Correct?
BUSH
Well, sure.
SATAN
The problem is, you were not really capable of leading the most powerful nation on earth.
BUSH
(pulls up short)
Wait just a second. I was a strong leader who made the tough decisions and—
SATAN
(calming voice)
George…George. This isn’t a press conference. Listen, in here, you can be honest. Honest. You don’t have to put up the shields or prattle on with the old song and dance routine. Let down your hair, man.
BUSH
(quiet for a few beats)
It’s hard lying all the time.
SATAN
(in a comforting tone)
I know.
BUSH
They never listened to me…never considered what I wanted.
SATAN
They ignored you.
BUSH
Oh, that’s not the half of it. Rove, Cheney…treated me like a child. All they wanted me to do was talk tough and smirk like I knew what was going on…. People thought the smirking thing was natural. Took me years in front of a mirror to perfect that.
SATAN
It couldn’t have been easy.
BUSH
Is that why I’m here? For the lying?
SATAN
Well, it’s not quite that simple. That is part of it, but there’s also the wanton death and destruction in Afghanistan and Iraq, the tax cuts for all your cronies and contributors, your disregard for the environment, the character assassinations during campaigns…generally, it’s about who you were and what you stood for.
BUSH
Wow. But wait a second. I thought being a Christian helped. Doesn’t that count for anything?
SATAN
(wistfully)
George, George, George. Calling yourself a Christian and acting like a Christian are two different things. You can’t say “I’m a Christian” and then lie, cheat and steal. Doesn’t work that way.
BUSH
(to himself)
Why didn’t anyone tell me?
SATAN
That goes for any of your so-called religions. Muslims who claim to be devout and then go out and blow themselves up on a crowded street killing and maiming innocent people aren’t any better. Plenty of those here.
BUSH
But our cause was just. Freedom. Democracy. That’s what it was all about. Sure, we bent some rules along the way, but only because we had to get where we needed to go, and the damned liberals fought us—
SATAN
(holding up a hand)
We don’t use the word “damned” lightly here.
BUSH
Sorry.
SATAN
Listen, George, you’re not here because you wanted democracy for other countries, you’re here because you allowed yourself to construct and live in a virtual reality that was destructive, oppressive and at odds with human advancement.
BUSH
“At odds with human advancement…?” Listen, don’t I get a phone call or something?
SATAN
(laughs)
A phone call? This is Hell, not the Mayberry jail.
BUSH
Come on. I’ll make it collect.
SATAN
(reluctantly, he pulls out a cell phone and hands it to Bush)
Oh, what the hell. Here. Three minutes. That’s it. Signal’s not always good….
(Bush takes the phone, dials a number and walks out of hearing distance of Satan. As Bush talks, Satan strolls around, grumbling to himself.)
U.S. presidents. All they can think of is their image, even in Hell. I’ve had kings here with smaller egos. Need to consider adding a circle just for them. Something related to distorted mirrors. Nixon will grumble, of course, but—
(Bush taps him on the should and holds out the phone.)
BUSH
Here.
SATAN
What "Here?"
BUSH
I have someone who wants to talk to you.
SATAN
(confused)
Talk to me? What for?
(Bush just holds the phone out and smirks. Satan grabs it from Bush and puts it to his ear)
Hello… Who? Oh, sure, I…. Yes, of course. But…. But…. You…. (compliant tone) All right. Okay.
(he slowly closes up the phone)
Someone will pick you up in an hour.
BUSH
(smiling triumphantly)
I told you. You got the wrong guy, Beelzebub.
SATAN
Oh, I got the right guy. I just picked the wrong family.
BUSH
(sidles up to Satan and leans in close)
“Don’t mess with Texas.”
(Bush exits swaggering)
SATAN
(pause as he watches Bush go)
Now I know how the Democrats feel.
FADE OUT