Inspired by Ernst Lubitsch.
Intimate glance:
INT.
PRIVATE ROOM IN TRUMP TOWER - NIGHT
DONALD takes LINDA by
the bare arms.
LINDA
Let's settle the money
first.
DONALD
You're not serious!
LINDA
Get a good night's
sleep.
She WALKS OUT.
DONALD
Not as good as I
thought.
EXT.
SIDE STREET LOCATION 1 - NIGHT
LINDA is in the car of naive bond salesman BARRY, in love with her, making his move.
LINDA
Barry, you have to pay
for this.
BARRY
Pay who? Are we in a
parking lot?
INT.
WEST WING CORRIDOR - DAY
HUNTER stands leaning
on the wall. JOE STICKS HIS HEAD OUT.
JOE
Hunter, give me a
thousand.
HUNTER
What for?
JOE
Just give me the God
damn money! I'm the fuckin' president!
INT.
THE PRESIDENTIAL NAP ROOM - NIGHT
DR. JILL COMES IN. JOE
is comatose. LINDA leans over him.
JILL
Joe!
LINDA
Think anyone will
notice?
INT.
SPACEX WAREHOUSE - DAY
ELON stands by as his
robot ROBBY has LINDA.
ELON
Does he feel happy? Do
you have a sense of his happiness?
LINDA
That's hardly a
scientific question.
INT.
MAR-A-LAGO BALLROOM - NIGHT
MELANIA takes LINDA'S
arm and walks her through the CROWD.
MELANIA
Are you handling my
husband?
LINDA
No. My loyalty is to
you.
HEGSETH watches them.
HEGSETH
Now that's
lethality.
Donald and Linda.
DONALD
I need someone I can
trust. These people in the FBI, the CIA - you think I can trust them? I
can't even trust my own Secret Service! Will you do it?
LINDA
How much does it pay?
INT.
HILLARY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
LINDA AND HILLARY, in
bed together, speak in low tones.
LINDA
Would you really kill
the president?
HILLARY
Tell him I'll get him.
LINDA
I think he knows.
EXT.
10 DOWNING STREET - DAY
LINDA on her phone is
face to face with DONALD.
DONALD
You know, Linda, I like
you.
LINDA
Thank you, sir.
DONALD
Do you like me? Even a
little bit?
LINDA
Not really, sir.
INT.
PUTIN'S MEETING ROOM - DAY
LINDA
(to Putin)
Mr. President, am I to
understand that a former KGB foreign intelligence officer, married to a
linguist, fluent in German, and the leader of Russia for a quarter of a century
- doesn't speak English? Are we going to have the interpreter in bed
with us?
INT.
LINDA'S NOVO-OGARYOVO ROOM - NIGHT
LINDA AND PUTIN. Unable
to perform, he weeps.
PUTIN
You are too
beautiful! Too perfect! You disarm me totally!
(glaring madly)
Your perfection is my
problem!
LINDA
It doesn't seem to me
that you have a problem.
PUTIN
(weeps again)
I love you!
LINDA
I know.
PUTIN
But I can't - I can't -
I can't -
He HAMMERS HIS FOREHEAD
ON THE FLOOR.
LINDA
I'd better go.
PUTIN
(sits up and shrieks)
You are not going
anywhere! And tell the world that I'm - That I can't - You are staying right
here!
EXT.
PRINCE ALBERT'S PALACE TERRACE - DAY
ALBERT, CAROLINE, LINDA
AND JUSTIN TRUDEAU, seated, as CHARLENE ENTERS, RAVING.
CHARLENE
They're watching me
through the mirror! They're watching me! They won't stop watching me! I
can't make them stop watching me! I can't take it! They're watching me! They're
watching me!
She runs SCREAMING to
the balustrade and throws herself over. FROM A LOW ANGLE we look up as she
falls toward us.
EXT.
PRINCE OMAR'S YACHT - DAY
LINDA on the phone with
DONALD.
LINDA
Why am I spying on this
delightful man?
DONALD
He finances terrorism.
We want him dead.
LINDA
I am not an assassin!
DONALD
You don't have to be
"an assassin"! Just kill the motherfucker.
EXT.
DESERT - NIGHT
FAISAL stands over
LINDA. She lets her robe fall from her shoulders, her breasts, and looks up at
him, waiting. Something new comes into his face - he hadn't thought of this,
but why not? He stabs the shovel into the sand and kneels before her.
His face hovers above
hers, triumphant, in possession. Then a slight confusion enters his eyes. He
blinks. He opens his mouth but no sound comes. To the hairline slit across his
throat she presses her veil, instantly soaked with blood. She moves out from
under him as he falls on his face, blood pumping out of him in waves that soak
the sand.
EXT.
PRINCE OMAR'S PALACE - DAY
LINDA strides away from
it followed happily by the SERVANTS. The palace EXPLODES in a giant mushroom of
fire. The servants turn and gape. Linda keeps going as if nothing's happened.
CITIZENS turn and gape. Linda stops and looks, undisturbed. The others turn and
look at her.
An old car pulls up
beside her. She looks back at the servants, gets in and is driven away. They
stare after her - she has saved their lives.
INT.
747 CABIN - DAY
LINDA gets DONALD on
the phone. The anxious CROWD ERUPTS IN CHEERS AND APPLAUSE. She SILENCES THEM
with a gesture.
LINDA
Sir, we have a
situation. I'm on a 747 with four hundred people and an atomic bomb in the
hold, set to go off in minutes, no pilot, circling New York for a landing.
The crowd is DEAD
SILENT; only the ENGINE HUM.
LINDA
And it's a Boeing, sir.
DONALD
(phone voice)
What?
LINDA
Thank you for your attention to this matter, sir.
Robert MacLean is a bad poet and an independent filmmaker. His The Light Touch is on Amazon Prime, Tubi, Scanbox and YouTube, and his 7-minute comedy is an out-loud laugh. He is also a screamingly funny novelist, a playwright, a blogger, a YouTuber, a reviewer of films, a literary critic, and a stand-up comic poet. Born Toronto, PhD McGill, taught at Canadian universities, too cold, lives Greece, Irish citizen. He is of towering intellect but, as is often the case with such people, not that bright.
