Debate Night Disaster
(Frank and Estelle Costanza and Mrs Warboys try to steer a political debate in their favour. It goes about as well as you’d expect.)
Scene: A Live Televised Political Debate
The stage is set. The audience buzzes with anticipation. A row of candidates stand behind their podiums. On one side: Frank—red-faced, barely containing his rage. Estelle, arms crossed, radiating contempt. Mrs Warboys, smiling obliviously.
Their opponent? Dharma, who has been nominated by accident but insists she is merely "observing the candidacy of the moment.”
The moderator, a tired-looking news anchor, clears his throat.
Moderator:
“Welcome to tonight’s debate. Our first question: What are your policies on economic stability?”
Frank: (immediately furious)
“Well for a start, I’d stabilise the economy by GETTING RID OF ALL THESE BLOODY MORONS who keep wasting my time! You know how much tax I’ve paid?! I should OWN the economy by now!”
Dharma: (calmly)
“Money is like the wind. If you chase it, you fall. If you let it blow, you rise.”
(Pause. The audience nods thoughtfully. Frank looks like he’s going to explode.)
Estelle: (gritting her teeth, into the mic)
“What my esteemed colleague MEANS to say is that the economy should be run by people who aren’t complete and utter cretins. But no, let’s hand it over to a woman who thinks GDP stands for ‘Great Divine Peace.’”
Mrs Warboys: (nodding sagely)
“Well, my neighbour once tried to stabilise her finances by investing in a ponzi scheme run by an astrologer. He said her star sign was ‘Profitable.’ Turns out, he was a crook! Terrible business, really.”
Moderator: (blinking in confusion)
“…Right. Moving on. Next question—crime prevention. How would you tackle rising crime rates?”
Frank: (furious again)
“I’d start by THROWING HALF THE POPULATION IN JAIL. No more warnings, no more second chances! If you so much as LOOK at me funny, you’re in the slammer!”
Dharma: (smiling serenely)
“The cage you build for others is the one you live in yourself.”
(The audience murmurs in agreement. Frank twitches violently.)
Estelle: (sarcastic, to the moderator)
“Yes, lovely. Let’s solve crime with fortune-cookie nonsense. Why not tell muggers to ‘open their inner lotus’ while they’re at it?”
Mrs Warboys: (cheerfully reminiscing)
“Oh, I was nearly mugged once, but I confused the man so much he gave up! He asked for my handbag, and I said, ‘Oh dear, which one? You know, my sister-in-law got me one last Christmas, but it was far too garish, and the straps were far too short—’ and he just ran away! Really, if more people did that, we wouldn’t need police at all.”
(The audience starts clapping. Estelle looks like she might kill her.)
Moderator: (rubbing his temples)
“…Let’s move to closing statements.”
Frank: (boiling with rage)
“RIGHT, LISTEN TO ME, YOU PACK OF HALF-WITS! You’ve heard the others talking absolute GIBBERISH, but I’m the only one who speaks SENSE! If you don’t vote for me, you DESERVE EVERYTHING THAT’S COMING TO YOU! A vote for Frank is a vote for someone who—FOR THE LOVE OF GOD—JUST WANTS THINGS DONE PROPERLY!”
(Silence. The audience stares. Frank is vibrating with fury. A baby starts crying.)
Dharma: (serenely)
“To want victory is to fear defeat. To fear defeat is to not have won within yourself.”
(Applause.)
Estelle: (muttering into her mic)
“…I am going to physically strangle her after this.”
Mrs Warboys: (beaming)
“Well, I think this has gone rather well, don’t you?”
(The lights dim. The debate ends. Frank storms off, kicking a podium over. Estelle marches after him. Mrs Warboys waves happily to the crowd. Dharma bows. The nation is left to wonder if this is, in fact, a nightmare.)
End Scene.