Julian, wrote:
That link does not seem to work for me. Can you just describe what they're doing? Could you turn it into a stage play real quick?
Absolutely. Here’s a short one-act stage play in the style of David Mamet
Title: “Naked Desert”
Characters:
MAX – 40s, producer, fast-talking, anxious.
LENNY – 50s, writer, grizzled, bitter, chain-smoker.
CLAIRE – 30s, network exec, whip-smart, calculating.
TROY – 60s, voice actor, a little unhinged.
Setting:
A bare production office. One desk, a monitor showing an eerie AI-rendered desert scene on loop: a figure (Trump) trudging nude through sand.
⸻
SCENE ONE
Lights up. MAX paces. LENNY sits, watching the loop on the monitor. CLAIRE stands still, arms crossed. TROY leans against the wall, sipping coffee from a cracked mug.
MAX:
So that’s it. That’s the opener. That’s the fucking choice?
LENNY:
No choice. Just art.
CLAIRE:
It’s exposure.
MAX:
It’s exposure, alright. Genitals on full display. Is this even legal?
LENNY:
It’s not him. It’s pixels. It’s interpretation. It’s metaphor.
MAX:
It’s a dick joke.
TROY: (laughs)
It’s the dick joke.
CLAIRE:
It’s engagement. First five minutes, it trends. We trend. You want ad dollars? This is ad dollars. Dick-first.
MAX:
What’s the story?
LENNY:
There is no story. That is the story.
MAX:
A naked ex-president in a desert?
LENNY:
Stripped bare. Ego evaporated. Wandering the liminal. Tiny penis. Big implications.
TROY:
You know I voiced his grunts? The AI didn’t do sound. Just face. I gave him that little whimper. That—
(demonstrates a wheezing groan)
That’s me.
MAX:
Jesus, Troy.
CLAIRE:
It’s bold. It’s grotesque. It’s honest.
MAX:
It’s libel.
LENNY:
It’s not him. It’s a symbol. You think the desert’s literal? You think the sand’s just sand?
CLAIRE:
He’s not lost. He’s wandering. There’s a difference.
MAX:
And we end it like that?
CLAIRE:
That is the ending.
MAX:
Nothing else?
LENNY:
What else is there? The man. The sand. The shame. The death of the brand.
TROY:
He steps on a scorpion.
MAX:
You’re kidding.
TROY:
Swells up. Swollen foot, tiny—still tiny, but—
CLAIRE:
You’re overthinking.
MAX:
I’m producing.
LENNY:
Same thing.
CLAIRE:
The scene drops. The net melts. Half the country loses their minds. The other half laughs. We win both.
MAX: (beat)
So we greenlight this?
LENNY:
It’s airing now.
TROY: (grinning)
Wait till they see next week. The horse scene.
(Beat. Everyone stares at him.)
Max: horse?
BLACKOUT
