Act III, Parody. Another Day in the Life of Hillary at Home With Bill.

black wooden cabinet under two women paintings
Photo by Christa Grover on Pexels.com

The scene is Hillary and Bill relaxing in their Chappaqua, NY,  living room reading the newspaper in the afternoon, a box of Hillary’s newly released book on the floor.

HILLARY

Well, Bill it’s five o’clock somewhere.

Hillary cackles as she pours her first glass of Chardonnay for the day.

BILL

What do you think about this AG Barr character traveling to other countries digging up dirt on the 2016 election?  And he’s traveling with a topnotch lawyer. Do you think we’re in jeopardy?

HILLARY

It’s just another vast right-wing conspiracy trying to bring us down, dear.  They’re obsessed with us.

BILL

But they may be digging into my tarmac meeting, your staged interview with the FBI, and even the missing emails, not to mention our connections to these countries.

HILLARY

I don’t care.  We’re untouchable.  They tried with Whitewater, then with Monica, and finally Benghazi.  They failed before and will fail again.  They’re all a bunch Barney Fifes. Obama’s got our back.  He’s even more untouchable.

BILL

I’m not so sure.  Obama’s got his own troubles with his unprecedented unmasking when he left office. Trump’s out for revenge for the Insurance Plan, the spying on his campaign, the Mueller sham, and the Kavanaugh smear.  We may have gone too far, Hill.  Barr looks as serious as a heart attack.  I hate to tell you, but our jig is up, dear.

HILLARY

Chillax! Stop being such a Debbie Downer. All’s I need to do is fake another fall in public view and the fawning press will surround me; then have my doctor report something serious and, viola, it’ll change the news cycle. Not to worry honey.  I’ve got this. I’ve gotten you out of jams before and will again. Besides, I’ve spoken to Brennan, and he’s planted a rogue CIA agent in the White House to get some impeachable dirt on that current occupant of the Oval Office. They’re changing the “whistleblower” criteria as we speak.

Hillary fills her wine goblet to the rim again and takes a large chug, some splashing onto her pants suits. She cackles as she wipes the wine from her jacket with a cloth.

BILL

You’ve always got something up your sleeve, don’t you? I suggest we leave the country for a while, maybe a trip to Paris?  Parlez vous francais?

HILLARY

That’ll look great in the press.  I can hear Hannity now, “The Clintons have left the country to an undisclosed location. What are they running from?” Thanks, but no thanks Bill. I’ll stay here and go on a book tour with Chelsh. I hate FOX News!

BILL

Suit yourself. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I may go to a private island somewhere.

Bill got a faraway look in his eyes.

HILLARY

Speaking of suits.  I have to get out of this blistering hot pants suit.  Run the bath for me, dear, while I fill my glass.  Add some bubble bath. I need a long soak while I plan our next move. And you’re not going to that damn island again!  Epstein is dead, remember?  God, you’re getting senile.

BILL

He rolled his eyes before heading to the bathroom to run her bath as he mumbled something under his breath.

bathroom interior
Photo by Deeana Garcia on Pexels.com

Another Day in the Life of Hillary at Home with Bill.

One-Act Parody: A Night in the Life of Hillary at Home With Her Family

architecture building castle clouds
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The scene is the whole Clinton family sitting around their living room on a stormy night, television on at low volume, conversing with each other.

GRANDDAUGHTER CHARLOTTE

Hey Nana, why do you keep talking about Trump?

BILL

I agree, he seems to be living rent free in your head.

HILLARY

Well, Lottie, that clown did try to steal the election from me.

CHARLOTTE

A clown?  Clowns can be president?

HILLARY turns toward Bill relaxing at the end of the couch from her. Both of them watching the news and sipping wine.

HILLARY

Bill, get the Secretary of Defense on the line.  I think we need to send some troops into Venezuela.

BILL

Hill, calm it down. You’re not president.  You can’t send troops anywhere.

CHELSEA, playing dolls on the floor with Charlotte, looks up at her mother with a concerned expression.

CHELSEA

Yeah, Mom.  Let it go, like the song says.

HILLARY

Where’s your hubby, Chelsh?  Hate to think of him driving in this awful weather.

CHELSEA

He had a late meeting at the office, Mother.  Relax.

HILLARY

A-huh.  I’ve heard that before. Sounds like your father.

But what’s with this weather?  This is the longest rainy season here in my lifetime. Our climate is changing!

BILL

But we’ve only lived here since you ran for the Senate.

I often wonder how our life would have been if we stayed in Arkansas.

HILLARY

Oh sure, put me back in a friggin’ Flippin, Arkansas-Whitewater-shack along Crooked River.  Crooked River…really Bill?  The press would have a field day.

BILL

Now, now Hillary.  It would have been serene and quiet there.  With no paparazzi. And no politics!

HILLARY

With your old squeeze, Flowers, sneaking around?  I don’t think so.  And who’s this “energizer bunny” I’ve been hearing about?

CHARLOTTE

Nana, can you bring me a cookie?

HILLARY

Oh, I suppose I could have stayed home today and baked cookies!  But what I decided to do instead was fulfill my profession and run the country!

CHELSEA

Mom, don’t snap at her.  You sound shrill!

HILLARY

Don’t call me that, Chelsea.  It’s sexist!

HILLARY turns toward BILL as she smugly takes a large swill of her Chardonnay.

HILLARY

Bill, when’s Valerie get home?  We need to hold a meeting on another insurance plan.

BILL

There’s nothing to insure, dear.  We lost.  Steele, Dr. Ford, Stormy, and Cohen all failed us and Mueller’s report was a bust; it’s over now!

HILLARY

Call Kaine.  We should have him at the meeting too, keeping it all by the book, like Obama said.

BILL

Who’s Kaine?

HILLARY

Oh Bill, you’re getting senile.  The VP, of course.

CHELSEA

Mom!  Stop already!

CHELSEA looks to her dad for some support. He rolls his eyes and shrugs. Hillary takes another swig from her stemmed glass.

BILL

Yeah, dear.  You’re sounding a little off.  Did you forget to take your meds?

HILLARY

Whether I forgot them, or lost them, or quit them altogether; what difference…at this point…does it make?!

HILLARY then looks around the room in all the love surrounding her and it calms her. She polishes off her wine and sighs.

HILLARY

Let’s get Loretta over here; we can talk about grandkids and golf again, maybe even global warming deniers or those bitter, gun-clinging, deplorables.

BILL

Okay, dear.  I’ll ask her over.  But, just so you know, she has no grandkids and doesn’t play golf. And I doubt if she gives a hoot about phony global warming or clingers to anything.

HILLARY suddenly rises from the couch and is wobbly on her feet. Her empty wine goblet tumbles onto the Oriental Carpet.

HILLARY

Sorry ’bout that. I’m feeling a little tipsy, dear.  I think I’ll retire for the evening.  Wanna get outta this damn, sticky polyester pantsuit and submerge my aching bones in the bathtub.  I have a big day in the Oval Office tomorrow, meeting with heads of state.

Give my best to Loretta.  Tell her it takes a village.  Goodnight all.

ALL OF THEM share a knowing glance as they slowly shake their heads. Hillary brings her hand to her mouth and blows a kiss at Charlotte.

CHELSEA

Nigh, night…Nana. Be careful getting out of the tub. That marble floor can be slippery.

HILLARY

As long as I don’t slip in the polls!

SHE cackles at her own joke and prepares for her bath.

End of scene, Act One.

A  Night in the Life of Hillary at Home With Her family.

tiles window bathroom marble
Photo by William LeMond on Pexels.com

 

Written by: BetteroffwithTrump