(The Official Secret Clubhouse of the He-Man Truth & Swede Haters Club)
(Donnie cursing – laying stuff out on the Treehouse floor)
Ben: Sir? What exactly are you doing?
Donnie: These directions are shit.
Donnie: These directions…they’re shit.
Ben: You know you just need to turn the page over for the English vers…
Donnie: Look I’ve got everything laid out and organized…nuts, bolts, lug wrench, duct tape, a small paper clip, glitter, glue, pretty pictures of pretty Swedish chicks, My Little Pony game pieces…
Ben: My Little pony?
Donnie: Yeah…Spicer said I look like a unicorn, riding a unicorn over a rainbow and there’s a real player game now too and even a board game and everything so…did you know there’s a whole universe of guys who do this?
Ben: I’ve heard. Very manly. And I’m sure you’re they’re hero now. But organized? That’s not like you sir.
Donnie: Yeah, exactly, but I’m doing it anyway.
Ben: Don’t they have a simpler way? Directions are so constricting for you. Bullet points. Maybe they have bullet points on the directions that you could then delegate to someone else to figure out? Or maybe a graph, with color. You like color right sir?
Donnie: Color? Of course. Lots of color…a rainbow of color, like that Spicer unicorn thing.
Ben: A rainbow?
Donnie: Yeah, but don’t tell Pence. He’s such a tight ass. Always going on about this God guy and rainbows and shirtless dudes being a strange sensation distraction…I mean, who doesn’t like rainbows…?
Ben: …maybe a multi-colored graph to show how these directions are trending up?
Donnie: That would be nice wouldn’t it? But too easy I’m guessing. Apparently directions are specific. Who knew?
Ben: Yeah, specific isn’t really your thing.
Donnie: I know tell me about it. But I’m trying to do it anyway.
Ben: Do what?
Donnie: Build these bunk beds
Ben: Why, if you don’t mind my asking, are you trying to build bunk beds?
Donnie: Don’t mind at…unless you’re questioning me..(glare)…
Donnie: …I’ve got a sleep over planned.
Ben: A sleepover?
Donnie: Yeah, an important sleepover. A playdate then a sleepover.
Ben: With who?
Donnie: With who? Jesus Benfred, don’t you read the news?
Donnie: What? Yes, alright, I called you Benfred, the whole Batman butler thing you were going on and on and on about, Benfred. But you’re Ben, he’s Alfred. And I just might be a superhero, the generals love that, gonna have a parade, so I combined the two.
Ben: I like it sir. You combined them on your own?
Donnie: Of course.
Ben: (quizzical look)
Donnie: Ok…I got some help. Kim told me how to combine the names, she’s an expert on this kind of stuff, prisons too, have I told you how good she is with prisons?…then we took a picture in the Oval Office. You know she’s a celebrity right?
Ben: I’ve heard.
Donnie: Big time celebrity. And whip smart. Says she supports me now. What could be more whip smart?
Ben: Nothing sir. Support = Whip smart. A given. I’m sure the folks at MENSA have her on speed dial for just that reason.
Donnie: Damn straight. And her guy, that Kanye…
Donnie: He’s whip smart too. I took a picture with him too. Tells everybody how whip smart he is. It’s important to do that by the way. Remind people how whip smart you are…just in case they don’t notice. And he’s black.
Ben: I’ve gathered that from the pictures.
Donnie: Hey, you’re black too!
Ben: Yes, I still am sir.
Donnie: Did you vote for me because you’re black?
Ben: Uh… (big hesitation) …well of course I did. Everybody that voted for you did so because they’re black sir.
Donnie: You got that right, the blacks lov…wait, something’s off there.
Ben: Black power sir! (fist raised)
Donnie: Ummm…right! (fist raised) Black power Benfred!! And you and Kanye are BOTH black. I assume you’re related then?
Donnie: Never mind, I don’t wanna pry, family business is family business. But with you two both being black and having a cool combo nickname…that’s just some sort of…ummm…a uhhhh….coming up short here Benfred.
Donnie: Yes, coinc…shit…that’s a lot of syllables.
Ben: I know. It gets tough after two.
Donnie: Tell me. Anyway, he’s black, like you, and supports me like you, is whip smart and reminds people of it all the time, just like me…so they don’t forget…
Ben: You already said that.
Ben: Never mind, No, the whip smart is obvious sir.
Donnie: It is isn’t it?
Ben: You know you could get someone else to do this right?
Donnie: Do what?
Ben: Build these bunk beds.
Donnie: Oh right…yes I could, but there wouldn’t be as much….ummm…
Donnie: Exactly. (to self – fucking syllables)
Ben: You sure? I could run down to Home Depot in the White House pickup truck again. Look for some day guys.
Donnie: I thought about that, but it would be too easy…and the off the books would be nice…but Swedish translates so poorly in Spanish…NO! I need to show the American people that I’m a hands on kinda guy, that I’ll get in the trenches with them…
Ben: That you can build some bunk beds on your own?
Donnie: Yes! And directions be damned. I know how it’s supposed to look when it’s done, I’ve seen the catalogue. What could go wrong?
Ben: Well…(imagined images to self: beds falling on top of each other – beds exploding – beds falling from space – beds igniting California wild fires as some sort of divine retribution – beds carrying tiki torches – beds sleeping with beds)
Ben: But sir you haven’t told me who you’re building these for?
Donnie: Hell, Benfred, didn’t I just ask you if you read the news?
Ben: You did sir. But it’s kind of depressing.
Ben: ‘Cause it’s all about you.
Donnie: Vlad! He’s coming here Benfred, and I want to make sure everything is just right. And I want to build these bunk beds myself…show him I don’t need any help.
Ben: But didn’t he…
Ben: Sorry sir.
Donnie: You know we don’t talk about that.
Ben: My fault.
Donnie: Hey wait! I just noticed. Have you been wearing a carrot on your nose this whole time? *
Donnie: Yeah, on your nose. Tied with string?
Ben: On my nose? No.
Donnie: Yes you have.
Ben: (pulling the carrot nose off his face) No I haven’t.
Donnie: Whewww, thank God. I thought for sure you were a witch.
Ben: They’re sneaky sir.
Ben: That they are.
Donnie: So, you gonna help me or not?
Donnie: Put these bunk beds together?
Ben: You know they/you canceled that meeting?
Donnie: We/I did?
Donnie: Why the fuck would we/I do that?
Ben: It’s all about the witch hunt sir. A rigged witch hunt. They just don’t understand your relationship with Vlad.
Donnie: Are you wearing that carrot again?
Ben: No sir. (after putting it back on then pulling carrot off nose again)
Donnie:…I know, they miss the positive influence that a good relationship with Vlad could have.
Ben: For the American people right?
Donnie: The who?
Ben: The American people sir.
Donnie: Who are they?
Ben: ummmm…they’re the ones you stand up for sir?
Donnie: Do I really?
Ben: Yes. The ones that wear your $40 hats. The ones you rile up into a mob frenzy with lies and incendiary short word language. The ones who would scream “jump” at a guy on a roof and then shoot him on the way down. The ones taking Russian as a second language now.
Donnie: Well I’m better at this than I thought.
Ben: You are sir. Much better.
Donnie: But a positive relationship with Vlad would be Yuge!
Ben: It would be sir. Yuge, just like you say.
Donnie: I mean he’s such a cool dude. How could anyone not like him?
Donnie: …Ok, the foot on the neck approach could be considered a little harsh by some, poisoning folks is a little much too, but I like the imprisoning of journalists and opposition leaders and the guy rides horses shirtless for Christ’s sake…and looks good doing it…I really gotta start working out…and his fake elections seem so legitimate to me…so does this piece go here?
Ben: What sir?
Donnie: This piece here. Does it go with this one?
Ben: Are we back on the bunk beds sir?
Donnie: Yes Benfred! Of course we fucking are! This has to be perfect!
Ben: What do the directions say?
Donnie: Dammit Benfred! We’ve talked about this!
Ben: I know sir. Sorry. Directions – bad. And in Swedish. Does Melania know about this?
Donnie: What? Who? And why should she? She’s in the residence with some kid and I got impor…
Ben: Your son?
Donnie: …yeah right…but I got important stuff to do here. Look, if you’re not really going to help at least grab some pillows.
Donnie: For the fort. Duh.
Ben: Oh, right…the fort.
Donnie: …and grab a bedsheet to cover it. You got any flashlights?
Ben: I’m sure I could find some.
Donnie: …and some Playboys. Not a real fort without some Playboys right? Hugh, that guy really knew what he was doing. Oh, and make sure you put those nesting dolls under it too.
Ben: The nesting dolls?
Donnie: Yeah, the ones with Vlad’s picture on them over there (pointing the the night stand) They were a gift from him. They confuse me but he seems to like them so make sure they’re under the bedsheet.
Ben: But they shouldn’t confuse you sir.
Donnie: Why the hell not?
Ben: They’re right up your alley sir.
Donnie: (sigh) You’re going to explain why now aren’t you? (to self trailing off – fucking smart guys).
Ben: They’re a metaphor sir. Vlad is the big doll and you and Mitch and Lindsey and the rest are the little ones inside.
Donnie: A whatafor?
Ben: A metaphor. A figure of speech…
Donnie: …a nice figure?
Ben: Of course, always. Curvy. But like I said it’s one large doll with a number of smaller dolls inside, inside, inside and inside this one big doll.
Donnie: Hey! The 80’s were a weird time Benfred and I’m a hero for surviving them…and sometimes it hurt…
Ben: Sorry sir, didn’t mean to bring up ol…
Donnie: …it’s Ok…I didnt’t say it was bad…
Ben: …alright anyway…when is he coming now sir?
Donnie: I’m not sure and that makes me SOOOOOO mad!…fucking witch hunt…HEY!…are you wearing that carrot again?!
Ben: (after putting on and then taking off the carrot) No sir.
after a long pause – working on the bunk beds
Donnie: Shit!…have I tariffed Sweden?
Ben: What sir?
Donnie: Have I tariffed Sweden? I wanna make them pay! I can’t get dick from these directions.
Ben: You know, again, if you just turn them ove…
Donnie: …fuck them.
Ben: I’ll grab the pickup truck sir.
Donnie: Good idea. And have them make me a taco salad when they’re done…I’m famished.
Ben: Will do sir.
Donnie: (trailing off) …Ok, this part goes…(bang bang)…shit! my finger…(bang bang)…son of a bitch…it’s supposed to…
* – always indebted to the Monty Python boys