[The Stage: A packed auditorium. The atmosphere crackles with anticipation. Donald Trump enters to a dramatic rendition of “Hail to the Chief,” while Stephen Fry strolls in, sipping tea, with Handel’s “Water Music” softly playing.]
Moderator: "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Roast Battle of the Century! In the red corner, the man with more tweets than policies, former President Donald J. Trump!"
(Audience claps, some boos mingling with cheers.)
Moderator: "And in the blue corner, the man whose vocabulary could probably purchase Greenland, Mr. Stephen Fry!"
(Audience cheers, someone yells “We love you, Stephen!”)
Trump:
(Leaning on the podium)
“Stephen Fry. British guy. Big deal, right? People tell me he’s a genius, but I’ve never heard of him. I mean, he’s what, an actor? A comedian? Sounds like a loser who couldn’t make it in Hollywood. Sad!”
Fry:
(With a bemused smile)
“Oh Donald, dear boy. It’s quite understandable you’ve never heard of me. After all, books aren’t really your thing, are they? You’re more a... colouring-in chap, I’d wager.”
(Audience laughs)
Trump:
(Waving it off)
“Fake news, folks, fake news! I read all the best books. The Bible? Greatest book ever. Art of the Deal? Second greatest. Stephen, you probably don’t know this, but I’ve sold millions of copies. Millions! Meanwhile, you’ve got what? A couple of nerds watching you host trivia shows?”
Fry:
“Ah yes, the great Art of the Deal, a work of fiction so bold it makes Harry Potter seem like a peer-reviewed study. As for trivia shows, at least I answer questions—unlike you at press conferences.”
(Audience gasps and cheers)
Trump:
“Listen, listen! People love me. I made America great again. Did you make Britain great? No! You left, and they still have tea shortages or whatever. Pathetic!”
Fry:
“Well, I must concede, Donald. You’ve certainly left a mark on America—rather like a toddler with crayons left alone in a national gallery. And as for tea shortages, I dare say the only shortage I’m familiar with is your vocabulary.”
(Audience howls with laughter. Trump frowns, clearly annoyed.)
Trump:
(Pointing at Fry)
“Look at him, folks. Talks all posh, like he’s better than you. I’m a man of the people, okay? I connect with real Americans. Stephen here? He probably thinks NASCAR is a breed of dog.”
Fry:
(Feigning innocence)
“Oh, is it not? I rather thought it barked loudly, went around in circles, and burned fuel unnecessarily. My mistake.”
(Audience erupts into laughter and applause. Trump’s face reddens.)
Trump:
(Flustered)
“Okay, okay. You know what? People love me because I’m a winner. I built an empire. I got to the White House. What have you done? Wrote a few books? Did some funny accents? Big deal!”
Fry:
“Ah yes, your ‘empire.’ A series of bankrupt casinos and a university so fraudulent, it makes Hogwarts look like Harvard. As for my accents, at least I’ve managed a few—unlike yours, which sounds like someone strangling a seagull.”
(Audience laughter crescendos. Trump glares at Fry, arms crossed.)
Trump:
(Leaning forward)
“Stephen, let me tell you something. People love me. They chant my name! ‘Trump! Trump!’ You? You’re just another nobody with a British accent. BORING!”
Fry:
(Mock-serious)
“Oh Donald, don’t sell yourself short. You’re not boring at all. You’re the human equivalent of an air horn—loud, unnecessary, and always alarming when one least expects it.”
(Audience gives a standing ovation. Fry takes a polite bow.)
Moderator: "Alright, folks, that’s all the time we have for tonight’s roast battle. Who’s the winner? Trump with his bombast or Fry with his devastating eloquence?"
(Audience chants: “Fry! Fry! Fry!”)
Trump:
(Grumbling as he exits)
“Rigged, totally rigged!”
Fry:
(Murmuring as he exits)
“Ah, victory tastes so sweet. Or perhaps that’s just the tea.”
(Curtain closes.)
