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+--- Thread: Red, White & Blew (/showthread.php?tid=38425)
Red, White & Blew - Thaddeus Duke - 10-02-2020
OOC: This was meant to be my final rp for Relentless, but due to the “impromptu” nature of the match with Chaos and the 1 rp agreement, it didn’t make the cut. The sacrifices we make for some people rolls eyes. Felt like sharing it anyway. I wanted to do it because I thought, in theory at least, it was hilarious while playing into the 90's theme of Relentless. This was just a first draft, but here it is.
NOT The White House || NOT Washington, D.C.
The camera pans the office of Thad Jefferson Clinton forty-sec unPresident of the United States of America. The camera settles on the man himself as he sits behind the “Resolute” desk. Thaddeus Duke’s normal locks are streaked with gray and a rather large nose prosthetic attached to his face. The gold colored eyeglasses rest on the tip of his nose as he writes on a rather large piece of yellowed parchment paper with a feather and quill.
We don’t know why.
The door to his office suddenly bursts open.
”What the hell is all that racket?”
”Lizzary, please. You’ll scare the children,” Thad tells her without looking up from his writing.
”Lizzary? Thaddeus! I told you I wasn’t taking part in this!”
”You are and you’ll like it! Fascism is all the rage these days!”
Liz sighs deeply as she looks to her left, off camera, then back at Thad. ”You honestly brought in a brass band for this?”
Thad slams his arm down on the desk and grunts. ”Aww god!” he cries out, his voice slightly higher than normal. ”It’s a little late now! The game has already begun!”
”What the hell is the matter with you?”
”FUCK!” he yells out, losing control of his arms and lurching forward in his chair. ”My mom died when I was a baby and my father didn’t love me enough.
“You?”
”The band has gotta go. They’re upsetting the lions.”
”Can’t. They’re under strict orders.”
”Whose orders?”
Thad scoffs and points to himself. ”Duhhh.
“FUCK!” he lurches forward again.
”Jesus fucking Christ, Thad!”
”Play along you damn woman!” he shouts, slamming his fists on the table. ”Do you have any idea how much time and makeup it takes to make me this damn ugly?
“The least you can do is pretend to be Hillary Clinton for fucks sake!”
Thad’s right fist clenches, snapping the feather. His head looks as if he’s having an epileptic seizure, complete with his eyes rolling back in his head.
”OH!
“MY!
“Fucking GOD!” he finally blurts out. Exasperated, he leans back in his chair.
”You know?” she says, pausing as she looks around the office. ”I thought you said this was gonna be the Oval Office.”
”Oral Office.”
”...What?”
”I said it was the Oral Office,” he says as he catches his breath. ”Not oval.”
She looks at him inquisitively, before vacating the office.
”Okay, she’s gone,” he says as he backpedals in his chair and looks down. Garrett Wentworth, Thad’s former boyfriend crawls out from under the desk, wiping his chin. ”That was an excellent game of swallow the leader, Monica.
“Your best by far.”
”Who the hell is Monica?” Garrett asks as he starts for the door.
”Lewinsky,” he answers. ”And you. For this scene.”
”See ya Thad,” Garrett says as reaches for the door. “Just so you’re aware, I still hate you.”
”Clearly,” Thad says as he zips his pants and Garrett exits the office. Thad reaches for the broken feather and dips it in ink and returns to his important writings on the parchment. The camera peers over his shoulder: Remind Garrett that he loves my wiener – COMPLETE. NEXT – Remind him he loves the rest of me too.
A knock comes from the other side of the door.
”Thad?” Frankie greets from the other side.
”Come in Bub,” Thad answers as he lays down his broken feather pen.
Frankie enters the office wearing a cheap dog mask from like Walmart or something. He has a seat in the chair across Thad’s desk from him.
”What’s up?”
The boy sighs as he picks at the fabric on the arm of the chair.
”What is it?”
”Liz...”
”Lizzary, but go on.”
”Liz… Lizzary won’t call me Chelsea,” he tells Thad, sounding rather sad at the development.
”Why would she call you Chelsea?”
”You said I was gonna be Chelsea Clinton for this… whatever this is!”
”No, I didn’t say that.”
”BULLSHIT!
”Hey!” Thad yells out. ”Is that any way to talk to the President of the United States!?”
”You said, and I remember because I was there. You said ‘oh let’s just put a mask on Frankie, someone’s gotta be Chelsea!”
”Frankie?”
”Yeah?”
”Does no one listen to me?”
”Not really. Liz is the boss of you.”
Thad sighs deeply and leans back in his chair.
”Good point. Anyway, what I said was: let’s go get Frankie a dog mask ANNNND we need someone to play Chelsea!”
Frankie lurches forward in his chair.
”It’s the same thing!”
”No….” Thad pauses as he ponders. ”You know what? Lizzary might be the boss of me, but I’m still the boss of you. You’re nine years old, stop making better sense than me! No more good points!
“Got it, Frankie?”
”Chelsea,” he corrects Thad.
”No, Frankie.”
”Chelsea,” he reiterates.
”FRANKIE!
”CHELSEEEEAAAA!”
”Fine! Be a girl!”
”Yes!” Frankie shouts as he gets off the chair.
”Wait! Where the hell are you going? You wanted to be Chelsea, be Chelsea.”
”I am!”
”But the cameras are in here!”
”I know, that’s why Imma be Chelsea up in my room,” Frankie says as he exits the office.
Thad sighs and palms his forehead.
”THAT’S NOT HOW THAT WORKS!” he shouts to Frankie who is long gone now. ”No one wants to play with me?” he says under his breath. ”I’ll play with myself then!”