Hill & Bill are shameless. Perhaps a literate
ridicule might be more effective than a
documentary showing logical contradictions
they will never admit.

I send as enclosure the first three scenes of
“Macbill,” a stage play I wrote in 1998 during
the Clinton classic misadventures. It satirizes
Bill and Hill as Macbeth and Lady Macbeth
in Shakespearian parody.

If you find my approach interesting, I can
snail-mail you the paper-bound script. It
could be adapted to your (my) purpose of
denying Hillary the presidency. I’m terrified
these comic characters could actually return
to the white house in real life.

Every liberal theater group (there is no other
kind) who considered Macbill since 1998 has
been scandalized to the point of attacking me
personally for writing it.
My former director, Paul Baker, founder of
the Dallas Theater Center, sent it to John
Lahr, the New York critic, for his evaluation.
Lahr was morally affronted, but could not
deny the play is well-written.

Baker and I got in a fight for the first time in
forty years. He demanded I never speak of
Macbill again. At the time I wrote it, I had no
idea that liberal outrage could be so intense.
Now I know. I offer the play as a potential
weapon against Hillary’s candidacy. Please
let me know if it can be of any use in your
campaign to avert a national disaster. It has
not yet been produced, nor do I expect it to
be.

My email is waden@flash.net.

I include my resume so you may judge my
qualifications to write such a moral censure in
this form.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

RONALD WILCOX was born in Holladay,
Utah, in 1934. Educated at Brigham Young
University, he later received a Masters Degree
from Baylor University, where he studied
experimental drama with theatrical innovator
Paul Baker. He played the lead role in Thomas
Wolfe’s Of Time and the River. This play
became the premiere production of the Frank
Lloyd Wright-designed Dallas Theater Center.
As a Resident Artist in the Professional
Repertory Company for twenty-three years, he
appeared in over sixty plays. Four of his own
plays were produced in Dallas, New York
City, and Los Angeles. He has published a
novel, The Rig. His poetry has appeared in
Dialogue, A Journal of Mormon Thought.
The title poem of his collection, Multiplicity,
was published in the anthology, Harvest:
Contemporary Mormon Poems. He has been
an Audio Book Reader for Spellbinders and a
Volunteer for North Texas Taping and Radio
for the Blind. He is at present a member of the
Irving Poetry Society and the Oak Cliff Circle
of Poets.

(script)

MACBILL

a tragifarce by Ronald Wilcox

copyright 1998

SCENE:

INSIDE CASTLE EL GRANDE BLANCO,
KINGDOM OF SPINLAND

{THE ACTORS’ NAMES}

MACBILL, THANE OF ARKAN
LADY MACBILL, HILLARY OF RODHAM
VINCENT OF FOSTER, EARL OF
DEFENDER
STARR, HIGH SHERIFF OF FAX
CARVILLE THE CLOWN, MASTER OF
SPIN
OJELLO, VERN OF JORDON
ROSS OF PEROT, A WEALTHY DWARF
KATHLEEN, LADY IN WAITING ON
WILLY
THE GHOST OF BUSH, KING OF
SPINLAND
SIR GEORGE THE YOUNGER, DOUBLE-
EWE OF BUSH
THREE WITCHES: MONICA, FLOWER, &
PAULOA

{and}

SIX PLAYERS WHO ACT
AS FACTOTUMS TO THE SCENE

ACT I, Scene 1

ENTER THREE WITCHES, Down Center Stage

MONICA
When shall we three meet again?
In Subpoena, Summons, or Internet of Woe?

FLOWER
When the Hurlyburly Inquiry’s done.
When the Impreachment’s lost and won.

PAULOA
That will be at the quest of Starr.

MONICA
Where the place?

FLOWER
Upon the Quid Pro Quo.

PAULOA
There to meet with Macbill.

MONICA
I come, Graysocksus!

FLOWER
Buddy calls.

PAULOA
Harpomarxus!

ALL
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
Hover through the fog and filthy air.

ACT I, Scene 2

The Oval Office

Six Players Who Act As Factotums
are busy building a wall to fortify the round
inner room.
The barricade is made of breakaway blocks
of styrofoam
painted as stones.
A low, wide round table is located in the
center of the stage;
around it sit Macbill, Lady Macbill,
Vincent, Ojello, & Carville.

AT RISE, GLOOM LOOMS.

MACBILL
Come, O Vast Conspiracy, Shadow of Scaife.

LADY MACBILL
The Right Wing makes way to Whitewater Wood.

VINCENT
Money doth exchange from foreign hands.

OJELLO
From the office of bosoms no traveller returns.

VINCENT
FBI files hide to return again unread.

MACBILL
O Gate of Water so firmly unresolved,
O tattooed tongue of politic correct,
O’erlaid by lies of our own devising,
Life is a poor conspirator, a bitch,
And then you die.

LADY MACBILL
The witches, the witches, damn those witches.

MACBILL
There are no witches, Love. Phantasms of Spin
Only in the mind of High Sheriff Starr.

LADY MACBILL
You swear there are no witches, past or present.

MACBILL
Would I lie, my dearest chuck?

LADY MACBILL
Ne’er call me Chuck, thou Farley Fartlet,
For I am Hillary of Rodham, Lady Macbill.

MACBILL
To the bitter end.

LADY MACBILL
We made a pact, remember?

MACBILL
Sealed in bloody inuendo.

LADY MACBILL
Carville, Master of Spin,
What say ye? Why await we Sheriff Starr,
Brooding as we do around a round table?

CARVILLE
(to the audience)
Uneasy lie the lies of they who have given head.
(to Lady Macbill)
We are besieged today, waiting for Perot.

VINCENT
Magic elf of distinction.

OJELLO
Jolly Green Giant.

LADY MACBILL
Crockpot of Cachets, Lord Know-it-all.

MACBILL
Leaping Leprechaun of Unlimited Moola.

ALL
He alone can save us from our machinations.
Ross of Reconciliation shall solve our woe.

LADY MACBILL
Yet Starr doth batter down our regal doors
With endless subpoena, ramrods of papyrus.

CARVILLE
Perot shall save us as he did before,
Offing King Bush for our convenience.
We shall see a falling Starr ere day die.
I tell thee, Lady, if Starr wants war, we
Shall render Starr wars, for war is hell.

MACBILL
To hell with Starr!
(a knocking sound)

LADY MACBILL
Hark, what noise without?

MACBILL
(as he quails)
Staunchly stay at our door, O Carville my Clown.

CARVILLE
Until the last dog be hung, perfervid Master.

LADY MACBILL
Protect us from those foul fiends, the witches.

MACBILL
There are no witches, my plucky chunky wunky.

LADY MACBILL
Who dare bang at our door, endlessly, endlessly?

MACBILL
Apparitions of an id out of control.

CARVILLE
The evil Starr arises. I see him hither,
Lurking, ever lurking. Conjuring in his brain
Obsessive lust of sex. He reeks of body politic.
Phew, fie on’t. Begone, oh Porno Bogeyman
Beguiling the lowly citizens of Spinland,
Masses of ignoramuses, believing lies of eyes,
Smell of nose, tales of senses gone astray,
Affidavits of Lost Desire, rising from graves
Of yesterdays’ sins, ghosts best forgot
Lest they beget our quietus forthrightly.
(to audience)
Believe ye Macbill or the lying eyes of Starr?

LADY MACBILL
Who speakest thou to, yon Carville my Clown?
Why dost thou bend thy eyes on starless vapor?

CARVILLE
Not Starrless, my lady, for there he goes again.

(Again, the knocking.)

VINCENT
(frightened)
Lord, I take my leave to leave my Lord.
(he exits post haste)

OJELLO
I shall accompany Vincent thence,
Thus to see no harm is done him by him.

MACBILL
Well-intentioned Ojello, keep thy knife handy.

OJELLO
I always do, my Lord. Protect thyself
And then thy friends first, then run fast.
A motto that has led me thus far free.

OJELLO EXITS, WIELDING KNIFE.

LADY MACBILL
I fear for Vince.

MACBILL
Fears multiply
Like jackrabbits let loose in a patch of pot.

LADY MACBILL
The Earl of Defender hath a rock in his shoe.
I pray Vincent will see our venture through.

MACBILL
Even as you, my love, as we share quality time.

ENTER KATHLEEN, LADY IN WAITING
ON WILLY.

KATHLEEN
Lord High Sheriff Starr doth bang our door.

LADY MACBILL
Why doth he bang our door so vociferously?

KATHLEEN
He saith he hath a bone or two to pick with you.

LADY MACBILL
Fetch him hither. We are not afraid.

(exit Kathleen)

LADY MACBILL
Gird up thy loins, my miscreant wretch.
Show him we are not moved by his ballyhoo.

MACBILL
Shall the valiant Thane of Arkan quaver
At a Whitebread Saint born more of Wonder than bread?
Halfbaked ‘twixt tasteless slices of dough,
He pursues relentless quest of Impure Purity.
You cannot reason with the errant knave,
You cannot get through his Thick Sinless Hide,
For in all matters Moral, he has become
The Unreachable Starr.

CARVILLE
Well said, my Lord.
Thou havest a knack at pretty conceit of wit.

KATHLEEN
(enters and announces)
High Sheriff Starr and His High Horse.

MACBILL
The pantry calls. Quickly, Kathleen, in here.
Let us seek surcease of safety in hanky-panky.

(MACBILL grabs KATHLEEN and pulls her
into the adjoining PANTRY.)

ACT I, Scene 3

Accompanied by an overture of trumpets
sounding the “Halelujah Chorus,” HIGH
SHERIFF STARR rides in upon a pure, white
SHETLAND PONY. He’s arrayed in
magnificent WHITE SHINING ARMOUR, like
a Knight of the round table.

STARR
I am Starr.
(He dismounts and turns to CARVILLE.)
Lead away my noble mount, thou scaly Clown.
See that he is fed upon ambrosia and nectar.
He drinks only white wine.

CARVILLE takes the horse and leads him out.

CARVILLE
(to audience)
So I am called upon to caress a horse’s ass.
Yet I shall have my revenge. Why me, Lord?

LADY MACBILL
I fear thy horse hath shat upon the floor.

STARR
He droppeth his opinion of usurpers.
As the gentle reign of heaven sweats bullets,
As a hailstorm the size of golfballs
Plays past the caddies of deceit,
He puddles your green venues of dispute.
So he patters thy fairways of green envy
As he mulches thy hallways with honesty.

LADY MACBILL
Thy horse doth not amuse me, nor his Jackass.

STARR
Thy table round bespeaks Hypocrisy.
Where I come from, a shining Camelot
Beckons every bower of Straight Shooters.

LADY MACBILL
I chide thy brevity of wit halfway, halfwit.

STARR
Halfwit brevity bespeaks itself.
Where hideth thy halfwit better half?

LADY MACBILL
Sticks and stones may break my bones,
But a good cigar is a smoke.

STARR
Enough of droll cajolery, Lady Macbill.
You know why I am here. Where is he?

LADY MACBILL
Where’s who?

STARR
Thy festering spouse.

LADY MACBILL
Why pester him further, Starr? Thou art defeated.

STARR
I shall verify every diddle and twiddle
Of thy philandering hubby if it take me
Past the Far Lakes of Fiery Hell and back.
I shall not rest until his burning ashes
Doth quaff and slake the hotspring of my ire.

(STARR searches about the room
for MACBILL’s hide-away pantry.)

LADY MACBILL
Get a life. Get a grip. Stop thy hissy fit.

STARR
Better a cuckolder than a cuckoldee.

LADY MACBILL
Don’t have a thrombo, Starr! Why carest thou
So intensely? It is I who should be mad.

STARR
Mad am I for good cause of righteous anger.
Mad thou art in more ways than one, all bad.

LADY MACBILL
Thou self-righteous prig!

STARR
I am covenant upon the state to stand uprightly.
Macbill hath battened upon our times like a tick.
He sticks under the skin of body politic
And sucks up the juice of our kingdom: Freedom
To be ourselves short of another’s nose.
He bleeds us dry as we grow fat in corruption.

LADY MACBILL
My Macbill is ever free to be himself.
That’s why thou hatest him so, you uptight prick.

STARR
No, Lady Macbill, not so.
I hatest what Macbill does, not what he is.
He beat the Bush of old by wiley Ross’s will.
That interfering Dwarf upset the apple cart
And set the agenda for Spinland. I yet fear
He’ll save Macbill. Tell me where he hides, witch,
Or forthwith I’ll show you my subpoena.

LADY MACBILL
You have no subpoena to show me.
You lack a subpoena.

STARR
Do I indeed? What thinketh of this? Have at you!

(STARR whips out his SUBPOENA and stabs her with it.)

LADY MACBILL
(unmoved)
Poor bent little subpoena. All limp and frizzled.
You need a longer subpoena, Twinkle Starr.

STARR
The Jury Grande shall supply me with subpoenas
That shall jostle thy ramparts to the quick.
Steel unbendable subpoenas that shall gut thee
From gizzard to legerdemain, from fore to aft,
And all thy tricks shall lose the name of “Slick.”
Aye, a subpoena you shall never forget, witch!
Forgive me. For one magic moment, I forgot.
For once there was a place called Camelot.

LADY MACBILL
You act upon the breath of the Dragon Scaife.
You ‘scape ‘neath the scales of the Dragon Scaife.
His vast and sulphurous pieties poison the people.
Macbill hath set them free to do as they do,
Will as they will, and to hell with tomorrow.

STARR
They play dominoes with their destiny, Lady,
Dice with their dead gods, Lady.
They do laugh to the grave ungrieved of guilt.

LADY MACBILL
Macbill slays the vanities of pernicious rules
That oft cling about our bodies like armour
To lance a lot our natural flesh with razors;
Iron maidens of regret grip our groins no more.
Macbill brings peace and comfort and prosperity.
You bring perturbation down upon us with
The strictness of your unyielding armour.
Your painful virtues are long abandoned, Starr.
Like chains of the slave, they rust in their
Incompetence to thwart our pleasures further.

STARR
Thy Eloquence of Immorality terrifies me.
Lancelot is dead; and thousands die
And will die because they could not say no.

LADY MACBILL
That is not Macbill’s fault.

STARR
All good men come to the aids of their party.

LADY MACBILL
The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy dog’s back!

STARR
Macbill is but the head of the pustule.
I shall incise him.
I shall squeeze him like a blackhead pimple.
He shall pop of my pressure and yield up his pus.

LADY MACBILL
That may be the sickest metaphor I ever heard.

STARR
I cannot believe he has made you his fool.

LADY MACBILL
Carville’s his fool, not I.
I believe in Macbill.
As for his peccadilloes,
He expects me not to know.
So I do not know.
And I am happy.

STARR with mixed emotions tries chastely to
sympathize. He reaches out to touch her
shoulder. MACBILL bursts out of the pantry.

MACBILL
Aha, what have we here? Starr-crossed lovers
I do believe. The moment my back is turned
I am betrayed by my loyal Starr-gazing wife.
Makest a constellation of the Northern Starr
Of the beast with two backs, O Horoscope?

STARR
Pun away, Macbill. This Starr flames meteor-like
Against the black night-sky of thy sins.

MACBILL
Force not the issue, Starr, for I fear you not.

STARR
Then why hidest thy worthless hide in the pantry?

At this moment, KATHLEEN comes out of
the pantry, disshevelled, trying to readjust
her clothes.

STARR
(to Lady Macbill)
What sayest thou to this?
Evidence of thine own eyes.

MACBILL
No, not evidence, Hypocrite!
For thou knoweth not the reason
for our encounter.

LADY MACBILL
What is the reason?

MACBILL
We were searching her dress for lost files.

LADY MACBILL
Did you find them?

STARR
Kathleen, Lady in Waiting on Willy,
what sayest thou?

KATHLEEN
He looked and looked but couldn’t find any files.

MACBILL
I searched every nook and cranny of her person.

LADY MACBILL
See there, foul-minded Starr. Unclean accuser.
Macbill was performing service to the state.

STARR
Did Macbill service you, Kathleen, or himself?

KATHLEEN
(to audience)
I fear I’m caught ‘twixt a rock and a hard place.
If I tell them true, my ass is grass.
If I tell them untrue, my sitter’s even greener.
If I tell them nothing, I’m stained with green envy
Of all my betters and all my worsts.
Was ever a maiden so sorely beset?

LADY MACBILL
Answer, witch, before I have you keelhauled.

KATHLEEN
I was taking dictation on my back.

MACBILL
We work better that way.

KATHLEEN
I took down all the detail in shorthand.

STARR
Shorthand?

MACBILL
Her longhand penpersonship is curiously adroit,
Yet time dictated she go not all the way.
Hence, shorthand.

STARR
Enough lies, varlet!
I shall come back with my subpoena in my hand.

KATHLEEN
That’s just what Master Macbill hath told me.
He would, quote, “Come with subpoena in hand.”
Honestly, Lady.

LADY MACBILL is shocked into a Pall of Denial.
Her eyes go suddenly wide, she stiffens,
as if sleepwalking.

LADY MACBILL
Starr light, Starr bright, first Starr I see tonight,
Why, then, ’tis time to do’t. Hell is murky
As Whitewater. Ask Vincent. Ask Vincent.
Fie, my Lord, fie! A freethinker afeard?
What need we fear who knows it when none
Can call our power to account?
Yet who’d have thought the bird in the Bush
Was a shrike!

MACBILL
You see her eyes are open.

STARR
Ay, but their senses are shut.

LADY MACBILL
The Thane of Arkan was caught a-sparkin’.

STARR
You have known what you should not.

MACBILL
She has spoke what she should not,
I am sure of that.

STARR
Heaven knows what she has known.

LADY MACBILL
(to Kathleen)
All the perfumes of Arabia will not sweeten
This little frock. Oh, oh, oh, a spot!
Out, damned spot! out, I say! One; two.
Yet here’s a spot. Come, come, come, come.
Give me your hand.
What’s done cannot be undone.
Wash your hands, put on your nightgown,
Look not so pale. To bed, to bed, to bed!

EXIT LADY MACBILL
leading out KATHLEEN.

STARR
What a sigh is there!

MACBILL
Her heart is surely broken.

STARR
The disease is beyond my practice, yet I shall
Practice patience upon my patients
As I kill them with Kevorkian kindness.
(to Macbill)
Unnatural deeds do breed unnatural troubles.
(to be continued)

Ronald Wilcox
1111 N. O’Connor, #101
Irving, TX 75061-4625
email: waden@flash.net

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