Act 1, Scene 1. A polling place.
When shall we three meet again,
In Florida, Texas, or in Maine?
When the hurly-burly's done,
When the 'lection's lost and won.
That will be ere the set of sun.
Where the place?
Upon the plain.
There to meet with John McCain.
He's getting desperate, just our style.
Let's let his anger stew awhile.
But first, the Tar Heel state doth beckon.
Yes, it's sister Liddy, I do reckon.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair:
North Carolina needs some godless air.
Scene II. A field outside Raleigh.
Sister Liddy, how goeth it?
So fareth, so goodeth, Sister Ann.
When we're through with that Pagan woman,
the voters will thinketh she be one of us.
'Tis good. But methinks her name be Hagan, not Pagan.
Pagan, Hagan, whoeth is counting, Sister Bachmann?
Lottery in June, corn be heavy soon.
But voting in November, facts they won't remember.
Too trueth, too trueth!
Though facts were scarce, folks got the gist
When I called Obama a terrorist.
(The witches laugh and dance.)
What be the weapon of choice, Sister Liddy?
The dagger or the poison?
Worse, Sister Ann. Character assassination!
Upon the hour an ad will air,
Which goeth beyond the bounds of fair.
We'll have her claim there is no God,
A ring and run and I'll get the nod.
Double, double toil and trouble;
Fire burn, and cauldron bubble.
'Tis always good to get the voters pissed.
By labeling one an atheist.
Scene III. A Campaign Plane.
A drum, a drum!
McCain doth come.
Speak, if you can: what are you?
All hail, McCain! Hail to thee, thane of Tempe!
All hail, McCain, hail to thee, thane of Temper!
All hail, McCain, thou shalt be president hereafter!
Lesser than Obama, and greater.
Not so eloquent, and lots more air quotation marks.
Third Witch (to Palin):
Thou shalt get presidents, though thou be none:
So all hail, McCain and Palin!
You betcha, witches!
Though English Lit is not my bag,
I know enough to respect a hag
Who telleth me good things will come,
Wink wink, nudge nudge, my brain is numb.
Though Todd may be a simple musher,
My ambition runs straight through to Russia.
Big things, bright lights, the world 'tis mine,
Just one week more, must tow the line.
Keep up pretense to Lady McCain,
and four more years will be thy reign.
What troublest thou, McCain?
They said you would be president.
Is that not what those witches meant?
They said your children shall be presidents. Methinks they meant
pregnant, not president.
Heyest, now -- don't goest there.
If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well
this 'lection were done with quickly.
I can hold on five more days,
no matter what Chris Matthews says.
I can scare a nation straight,
with talk of Marx, of tax, of hate.
My men can pull some 'lection pranks,
and cause dissent among the ranks.
But I am afraid to think what I have done;
Once a maverick, when I was young.
But now I'll do just what it takes,
I'll say anything, for goodness sakes.
And when you though things couldn't get dumber
I hung my hopes on Joe the Plumber.
Ambition is a funny thing --
Change -- no, not that change! -- it doth bring.
These weird witches, the truth they speak;
I might be president this time next week.
But witches messeth with your head,
It just might be Barack instead.