The Night Jeff Sessions Threw a Hissy / A One-Man, One Act Play

(the stage is bare except for a podium with a microphone, illuminated by a single spotlight) 

Offstage Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen, the Attorney General of the United States, Jefferson Beauregard Sessions.

(Sessions walks on, places notes on the podium, smiles) 

Sessions: Thank y'all for coming. I'm holding this press conference to clarify a few things. 

There has been a lot in the press about the relationship between President Trump and myself. And I want to state, for the record, that it is excellent. 

I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States of America. 

Trouble is, I ain't been pleasuring him too much lately. 

So I just want to reiterate my loyalty and thankfulness to the man who put me in this position, one who I love with all my heart. And I will nev...

(stops talking, stares at notes and resumes reading in monotone)  

...I will never betray the trust of this magnificent and God-like individual. He is wise and fair, strong, but kind. He carries himself with a dignity worthy of Christ himself and speaks wi...

( stops speaking, reads silently, lips moving, furrows brow, frowns)

Ah, HELL, NO, y'all. I ain't reading this shit. 

(rips up notes, puts elbows on podium, leans into the mic) 

Lemme tell y'all something. I understand sometimes you got to rub the cow's ass to get the milk. And Jefferson Beauregard Sessions never shied away from fondling a bovine butt. 

But this is a cow's ass of a different curve.

Yeah, I jumped on the Trump bus early. I was the first senator to see he had what it takes to snatch the election from Hillary Rodham Clinton and her band of heathen, lesbian baby-killers. It was the only way, to my eyes. So I climbed on. 

Now he wants to throw me under it? I don't by God think so. 

See, that Yankee dumptser-fucker lied to me. Lied bigger'n dammit. He asked me to be his Attorney General. 

I said yes. My motives were pure. 

All I wanted to do was uphold the Constitution and return our country to God's favor by crushing the evils of marijuana, uppity negritude, and faggotry. 

And he said I could. 

Hell, I even lawyered it up when I had to appear before Congress and didn't tell them about all those visits from guys name Dmitri and Yuri. 

Now he says that if I read his prepared statement, I won't have to resign. 

Resign, hell. Come fire me, you human rutabaga. 

Seriously. Shit or get off the pot, asshole, because I've got work to do and crosses to burn. 

Either way, Mr. President, you are cordially invited down to the Justice Department Building to come up to my office and suck my big,

grey,

Confederate

BALLS!

(calmly  straightens up and walks off, before suddenly turning around, running back to the podium, leaning in from the side, and pulling the mic to his mouth) 

Y'all, I almost forgot. ROOOLL, TIDE!

(nods at the audience)

Thank ya. 

(walks offstage)

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