Qasim Basir

INT. WH BUNKER - NIGHT Dark. Somber. Soft, pale light from corner lamps. 8 SECRET SERVICE, white men, on high alert, pressing the coms in their ears, whispering. One peeks to the bed where their boss sits, legs spread, hunched, face inches from his cell, TRUMP, white 73y/o child

taylored white shirt hangs open. Orange spray tan residue paints his collar. A waist girdle tossed aside, tired after a day of containing his gut, now spilling into his lap. Thumb scrolling... TRUMP Did you see this? SEC SERVICE 1 See what, sir?

TRUMP They say I'm hiding. I'm not hiding. I'm a wartime president. SEC SRVC 1 We have orders to keep you sa-- TRUMP Who's orders? SEC SRVC 1 Yours, sir. TRUMP I have new orders. I'm a law & order President.

EXT. WHITE HOUSE - NIGHT An unending sea of PASSIONATE PROTESTERS, CHANTING, YELLING, a unified chorus of pain. Fists in the air. Signs display pleas for justice & names of slain black people, one name more than any - George Floyd. CLOSE ON Protester's swollen, red eyes that..

have no more tears. Black masks covering their black, brown & white faces. Worn, black clothes they've been fighting in all day. 2 Protesters meet, clutch hands then BOOM BOOM! stun grenades rain from the sky. PSHHH BOOM! Tear gas drops next! Protesters SCREAM and run, wheezing

through the rapidly growing cloud of poisonous smoke. They dispurse quick, but not faster than HORSEBACK POLICE plowing through the crowd, trampling & crashing into Protester's, young and old. A GIRL, 14, dodges the horse but THUD, a rubber bullet slams into her neck, drops her..

to the curb, cracks her teeth. Blood spills from her mouth as Protester 2 comes to her aid, water bottle & rag. Picks her up. Runs. BOOM BOOM, a ferocious barrage of rubber bullets and gas. A line of police appear from the smoke - military gear and shields. Pushing & beating the

once peaceful Protesters. The carnage worsens by the second. A soulless, robotic gaze behind the masks of the shooting cops. Protester's fall over each other. Some escaping. Others coughing, bleeding, fighting back. The military style police create a wall holding back Protesters

EXT. WH FRONT LAWN - DAY Trump emerges through the front door, PENCE, 60, bleached white hair, translucent skin, follows close behind. Another 30 WHITE MEN in tow. TRUMP (leans to Pence) Those blacks and Antifa's and terrorists, told you I'd move 'em.

PENCE Sir, I don't think blacks is-- TRUMP Ah ah! Trump swiftly presses his pinky sized index finger to Pence's lips. Pence's eyes roll back, he opens his mouth and just before his tongue meets the finger Pence shuts his mouth, looks around, hoping...

no one saw the lust in his eyes. TRUMP What did I say about facts? Pence burries his chin in his chest, slumps his shoulders like a child in trouble. TRUMP (louder) What do I say about facts? 30 WHITE MEN Facts go to the back!

TRUMP You heard 'em, Mike. PENCE But I'm supposed to be by your side when you-- TRUMP GO, BOY. Trump steps away, the suited Men follow. Pence shuffles to the back facing the ground. EXT. PENNSYLVANIA AVE - DAY Trump struts down the

street, his momentum carried by his protruding chest. His nose so far up he misses everything around him - The Suited Men following like dogs, Secret Service surrounding them, the Military Police around them. A BLEEDING MAN pleads for help. The Police toss him to the side to make

way for their leader. People SCREAMING with rage. Crying. Buildings and cars burning. Trump passes a wall of grafitti that reads; FUCK TRUMP, FUCK 12, BLACK LIVES MATTER, A.C.A.B... he doesn't see any of it. His nose still in the air, a smug grin on his thin, wrinkled lips.

EXT. ST JOHN'S CHURCH - DAY A Parish with the looks of a DC Mansion. Doors and windows boarded to protect from vandalism. Trump and his Mob settle in front. Flanked by an army. The actual army. A thousand souldiers deep crushing the hopes and bones of Protester's, pushing them..

further back. Hoping the increasing distance will silence their CHANTS for justice. That and the CHUGA CHUGA CHUGA of military choppers above. Trump studies the historic Church.. TRUMP This'll due. (looks to his men) Where's that book? Who has the book?

Trump waves over the PHOTOGRAPHER, positions himself. Secret Service 1 glances inside his jacket, where a Bible is nestled against his heart. He looks at Trump, who's fixing the racoon tail on his head. TRUMP Who has the fucking book? Secret Service 1 glances to...

the fading sound of once resounding CHANTS. He looks to Trump, who knows no patience, his orange face turning red. SNATCH, Pence yanks the Bible from Secret Service's jacket. Breaking his trance. The choice no longer his, as Pence hurries his way to Trump, drops to his knee and..

hands him the Bible. Trump pets him on the head, giving Pence the biggest smile he's had in days. He stands next to his leader, but Trump shoos him away. TRUMP Next time. Pence drags his feet away in shame. Trump stares at the Bible, flips it front to back.

TRUMP Thing is heavy. An unfamiliar gaze. A book he hasn't touched since his commencement years ago. A book he hasn't embodied the whole of his life. A book he only uses as fodder for his base. He raises it, backwards & upside down, Photographer gets in place. And...