TRUMP & his generals are arrayed around the Map Table in the concrete bunker in Trump Tower. Present are CONWAY, BANNON, & AIDE.
T: Any word from Kingston's troops in North Carolina?
B: Moving south, towards Tennessee.
T: (Standing, seething): I told them to turn North! North! They have to break through to the suburban White Women on the Virginia line!
A: We told them, sir. The fighting is too deep. The brigade is breaking down...
T (his shouts echoing off of the Chinese concrete walls): Cowards! Cowards! All of them! Where is Lord? Has he made it from DC?
C: He's trying to cross Fifth Avenue. The block is brigaded...
JEFFREY LORD appears. His uniform is singed, but still bears the Trump epaulets on each shoulder.
LORD: You know, I remember when I was in a situation like this with Reagan, in 1982...
T: Quiet!
TRUMP walks to LORD until he is only millimeters from his face. Enraged, he tears each epaulet from LORD'S shoulders.
T: How? How could you let this happen? Arizona! Pennsylvania! Nevada! How? Betrayers! Every general! Every one! Lewandowski! Taking the money of the enemy! Manafort! Oh, the expert, he learned from the best, the GOP (Marches in an enraged mockery of Republican formality)! Couldn't even keep his tracks covered when Vladimir did it for him!
Every one has gone behind me! Ryan, McConnell! 'Oh, we support you.' Liars! Deceivers! Betrayers!
NELL-HUGHES, MCENANY, BLACKBURN sit at table outside the Map Room, silently listening to the rage, smoking nervously.
T: (Slumping to the floor, weeping): All is lost. All of the best are gone. Cohn. Barron. Mr. Green. It's over. It's done.
A: (Shocked, disbelieving): Sir?
T: It's done! Finished!
MCENANY (bursting in, hysterically): You can't do it, sir! Think of the cause!
T: There is no cause.
T (staring ahead, in monotone) There never was one.
There was only pure, straight, unadulterated attention.
And, for this–it’s done
