“Trump-onomics,” a mini-play

Larry: Hey, neighbor, from six feet away, I can see—I mean smell—you’ve got some mighty fine rotisserie chicken there.

Kendra: Yeah, and a Glock on my hip. So don’t try anything funny, Larry.

Larry: No, no, no, Kendra, you’ve got me all wrong. (reaches into bag) But as you can see, I’m the proud owner of not one, but two cans of Lysol.

Kendra: Holy shit. Two cans?

Larry: And there’s more where that came from.

Kendra: Is there now? (thinking) Well, I’ve got some chickpeas and some uncooked bacon. I suppose we could go without the chicken tonight. (aside) Even though I risked contagion just to get it.

Larry: Oh, I wasn’t necessarily in the trading mood.

Kendra: (reaches slowly for her Glock) Like I said, neighbor…

Larry: But then again, I think I could part ways with one of these cans for some tender juicy bok-bok.

Kendra: One can? (thinks about her family) Well…

Larry: Wait now. (reaches into bag again) I also have this roll of duct tape. Plus a box of Viper Blue Nitrile Gloves.

Kendra: Well, I’ll be.

Larry: What else you got other than that chicken?

Kendra: (thinking) I have a spare digital thermometer. But it’s in the house—I’d have to get it. And I can promise you it’s only been in ears, not asses.

Larry: Hmm.

Kendra: Plus an 8-pack of AA batteries! They’re not generic—they’re Energizer!

Larry: Now you’re talking. So … how’s about, two cans of Lysol, plus a bag of sterile gloves—I’m taking the duct tape off the board—for that chicken, the thermometer, and the batteries. Plus…

Kendra: Plus?

Larry: Yes, plus.

Kendra: Oh. Um … I’m thinking. Plus I’ll give you my user name and password for CBS All Access.

Larry: Hmm. That’s tempting.

Kendra: Are you a Trekkie? That’s “Discovery” plus “Picard.”

Larry: Yes, I know. Okay, two cans of Lysol, plus a bag of sterile gloves, for that chicken, the thermometer, and the batteries, plus your CBS streaming info. I think we’re getting somewhere. I just probably need a cherry atop the sundae.

Kendra: Holy shit. Okay, you hinted you’ve got more Lysol. So how about THREE cans of Lysol, plus a bag of sterile gloves, for my chicken, thermometer, the batteries, CBS—plus, I’ll throw in my eldest daughter as a betrothed bride for your boy, Eddie.

Larry: Now we’re getting somewhere. Okay, I’ll up the stakes. My eldest son, Eddie, shall marry your eldest daughter, Diane—he’ll inherit all your streaming video user names and IDs, plus you’ll owe me all the chicken you can find between now and the end of the pandemic. Plus the rest of the barter we’ve already discussed.

Kendra: Well, if you’re going there, then I’m going to ask for at least two more cans of Lysol. No, make it three.

Larry: Hmm. Okay, d—

Saundra walks by, carrying two 18-packs of Charmin toilet paper.

Larry: Hey, Saundra, how about I give you 50% of my 401K for one of those packages?

Kendra: Screw you, Larry! Saundra, you can have my entire pension, plus my eldest daughter, this chicken, and a shitload of batteries. And all I want is 12 rolls.

Larry: Don’t listen to her! I’ll give you my boat, my cabin on the lake, plus season tickets to your favorite team. And that’s just for 10 rolls.

Kendra pulls out her Glock.

Kendra: If you make that deal, you’ll both meet your Maker.

Saundra: Chill, motherf#$@ers. Here’s the deal. You’re both my neighbors. (opens package) Here, have 3 rolls each on me.

Saundra drops six rolls of TP on the ground and walks away.

Saundra: But when all this is fucking over, Todd and I better get an invite for a weekend on the lake with that boat, Larry. And, Kendra, you better start cutting me in on those fun Cards Against Humanity nights with the other neighborhood girls.

Larry and Kendra stare, flabbergasted.

Saundra: And … there’s more where that came from.