No Exit for GOP: a short play

The following scene stars four people: Le Mitt, a polished yet zany French-speaking millionaire; Newt the Brute, an overgrown Viking of a man with a viper tongue; Rick Sanitorium, a fading culture warrior whose favorite pastime is washing bathrooms; and Ron Paul. The setting is an empty room in Hell with no mirrors.

The valet brings Le Mitt into the room. Le Mitt looks around, expecting to see the Democrats waiting to torture him. Instead, all he sees are the three other GOP candidates, already settled in.

Le Mitt claps his hands.

“Well, great to see you guys. As you know, I’ve got this nomination thing all sewn up, but this fight is really sinking my poll numbers in the general, and you guys have a couple of the sugar daddies I’m going to need. So now would be a great time for you guys to drop out and all.”

Le Mitt glances around nervously, examining each face. Newt briefly looks like he’s going to say something but sits back down.

Suddenly, Newt stands up, face suffusing with blood. “Hell to the no am I droppin’ out of this race! Not to a Massachusetts moderate! The South will rise and win me the presidency!”

Le Mitt looks startled. Then it’s Sanitorium’s turn.

“You, sir, are going to let the gays and Muslims and baby-murderers run free. You are a one-trick pony on a course that ain’t gonna ride in November. ”

Ron Paul stands up and puts his best forced smile on.

“Now, now, guys, be fair to Mitt. Mitt and I are in a marriage, after all. Hell, I’ve been defending him more than he’s been defending himself! Now, when he gets elected and actually starts doing stuff ...”

Ron Paul’s grin grows wider and has a slightly devilish undertone.

Le Mitt, looking slightly dazed, sits down in a chair.

“You mean to tell me that none of you plan to drop out before June or the convention? That’s ridiculous and never going to happen!”

Le Mitt looks to Sanitorium as the most reasonable. He looks right back at Le Mitt.

“I’m not getting out before Newt gets out. Everybody knows he’s a puff of smoke away from igniting a fireball.”

“Newt?”

“I’m not getting out until you get out, Mitt.”

“Well, I — ” Ron Paul staggers a bit. “I am staying in as a matter of conscience for all of my young whippersnapper followers.”

Le Mitt sighs and goes to check his hair in the mirror. Unable to find one, he begins to twitch uncontrollably and retreats to the corner of the room.

In the background, he can hear Sanitorium and Paul fighting about Iran, with Paul occasionally making comments about the need to protect “white rule.”

Just then, Le Mitt hears Newt whispering to him, “Te-ddy Kennedy, nah nah nah. Ron-ald Reagan, nah nah nah.”

The noise rises to a crescendo, and suddenly, Le Mitt realizes why he’s there.

They didn’t need medieval torture devices or burning pokers or Democratic consultants. Le Mitt begins to scream and bang his head against the wall.

“L’enfer — c’est les autres républicains!”

Ron Paul cocks his head.

“Hell is — other Republicans!”

­— sidfletc@indiana.edu