Jules
January 20th, 2021
Starring: Jules, The Senators
Rome. March 15th, 44 BC, The Senate. The Senators (Cassius, Brutus, Casca), sit at one end. Jules sits at the other end.
JULES
Happy Ides, everybody!
Sorry I’m late.
Butbutbutbutbutbut I brought breakfast, so uh...help yourselves!
The Senators don’t budge. Jules takes a pastry:
Mm. M-m-m.
So what’s going on, anything?
...
Any stuff I should know about?
The Senators stay silent.
No?
Still nothing.
Ok.
Can I say something?
...
Well, I just wanted to let you all know that...I know.
About the whole...you know.
Jules performs an elaborate stab/throat slit gesture:
And it’s ok.
I understand why.
I love empathy, I’m a populist. And like any good populist would do, and I’m going to take a walk in your sandals.
When you sit there, looking at me, what do you see?
Your jobs gone. Your children hungry. The towns ravaged with poverty, the cities filled with unrest, our communities divided. This forum, and Democracy as we’ve built it, bulldozed. And driving that bulldozer? Me. The wannabe emperor.
Am I painting an accurate picture?
…
…
So you want to stop the bulldozer.
Cut me up, and cut me out. Celebrate my fall.
I don’t blame you.
…
But before you do—I want you to know it won’t feel like you think.
...
Look. If you want to erase me, go ahead.
You can erase my improvements, my damages. But you can’t erase my influence.
If I took a steamy shit on this table, and one of you hauled away the shit, would the shit stench just magically go away?
No. The shit lasts.
It still sucks, of course. Winning feels good.
But do you know what feels great? Having already won. Maybe not your vote, but your attention? Your energy? Winner winner chicken dinner.
I’m the center of it all. The people know me. My name is on their brains and lips, and it will be for a very, very, very, very long time. Loved or hated, dead or alive, I’m the star of the show. A storybook rise with a memorable end. That’s all I ever wanted.
...
I am the shit. I am the biggest shit you’ve ever seen. And you can flush me, but I’ll damned be sure you can smell me.
…
So do it.
End the tyranny.
…
I can wait.
Jules waits. The Senators wait. Jules has another pastry. The Senators move closer. They take out their knives.
Jules smiles and nods. He makes some sort of a “bring it” gesture.