SKIT: "The Cloud Files"
SETTING: A hazy, white void. Two fluffy, uncomfortable-looking caption clouds float into the scene. On the LEFT: ROD BLAGOJEVICH (RB). He’s wearing a sharp, slightly too-tight suit, a gold watch, and sunglasses, even though there’s no sun. He looks like he’s waiting for a limo that never arrives. He’s pacing. On the RIGHT: GRAHAM PLATNER (GP). He’s wearing a flannel shirt that’s seen better days, looking frantic, holding a smartphone that has no signal bars. He looks like he’s running from the cops -not running for office.
SOUND: A dial-up modem screeches, but it’s distorted and slow. Then, a ringtone: The same one on your phone when you first got it.
(RB taps his watch. GP finally gets a signal and dials.)
RB: (Answering) Hello?
GP: Is this Rod Blagojevich?
RB: Yes, it is.
GP: "The" Rod Blagojevich? The one who tried to sell Obama’s seat?
RB: (Sighs) Look, if this is some kind of joke... I’ve already done the prison thing. I’ve done the pardon thing. I’m in the "Cloud" now. Metaphorically. And literally, apparently.
GP: I’m Graham Platner.
RB: (Long pause. He takes off his sunglasses, squinting.) Platner? The Maine guy? The one currently playing "Game of Chicken" with the entire Democratic Party?
GP: It’s not a game! It’s... it’s a strategic standoff! A red team exercise!
RB: Buddy, I know a game from a chicken fight. I sold a Senate seat for a cabinet post and a job for my wife. That was a game. You? You’re just holding a seat hostage because you don’t trust them to pick a replacement who likes your vibe.
GP: (Pacing) Look, just give me five minutes.
RB: (Looks at watch) That’s four minutes left and counting. My cloud time is precious, Graham. I’ve got a scheduled appearance in a different dimension with a guy named "Levitt" who wants to talk about "optics."
GP: Buddy! Hey, it’s a long story, but hear me out... I didn’t mean to do it... I mean, they got me all wrong... I really just want to help the Democrat Party with its leadership problem. I’m the strong leader they need! The "Fighter"!
RB: (Laughs, a dry, raspy cough) Oh, I love the "Fighter" angle. I tried that. "I’m fighting for the seat!" "I’m fighting for my wife’s job!" "I’m fighting for a $300,000-a-year not-for-profit gig!" It doesn’t work, kid. You can’t fight the party and the voters and the feds and your own mother with one hand behind your back.
GP: But Rod! It’s different! I have leverage! If I stay on the ballot, the DSCC pulls funding. If they pull funding, Susan Collins wins. If Collins wins, the party looks weak. If the party looks weak, they have to listen to me!
RB: (Leans in, whispering conspiratorially) Let me tell you something about leverage. My leverage was a Senate seat I owned. The Governor has power. I held the pen. You? You’re holding a piece of paper that says "Expires by July 13." You don’t have leverage. You have a shelf life. And a sit down with a very angry Secretary of State.
GP: But what if I do it anyway? What if I stay? I’ll be the martyr! The "Strongman"!
RB: (Rolls his eyes) A martyr? Graham, you’re not a martyr. You’re a "holdout." You’re the guy who refuses to leave the party bus, and now the bus is going to crash into a cliff, and everyone’s going to die, and you’re going to be the one behind the wheel.
GP: But they won’t pick a moderate! They’ll pick someone like Shenna Bellows! Someone who’s... safe!
RB: And that’s the problem, isn’t it? You want to control the replacement. You want to thumb the scale. But here’s the kicker, my friend: Once you step down, you have zero power. The party will pick whoever they want. They’ll pick a moderate. They’ll pick a write-in. They’ll pick a guy named "Troy" who doesn’t even have a campaign website. And you’ll be up here in the cloud, like me, wondering why no one listened to you.
GP: (Desperate) So what do I do? How do I fix this? I don’t want to lose the seat! I don’t want to be the guy who let Collins win!
RB: (Pauses. He looks at his watch again.) You’ve got three minutes. Here’s the deal. You withdraw. You drop it. No conditions. No "guarantees." You let the party pick.
GP: But then I lose!
RB: No. You win. You become the guy who put the party first. You become the guy who didn’t let his ego burn down the whole house. You become the actual "Strong Leader" who knew when to swerve.
GP: But what if they pick the wrong person?
RB: Then they pick the wrong person. And it's not you. But at least you’re not the one who drove the party over a cliff. That’s the only leverage you have, Graham. The leverage of not being the villain.
GP: (Silence. He looks at his phone. No signal.) I... I don’t know.
RB: (Sighs) Look, I’ve been in this cloud for a while. I know the drill. You think you’re playing chess. You’re playing chicken. And you can't let go of the wheel. Just swerve. Stay alive. Come back next year.
GP: (Nods slowly) Okay. Okay. I’ll do it.
RB: Good. Now, since you’re being a good sport, can you do me a favor?
GP: What?
RB: Tell the party I said "Hello." And tell them I’d still take an ambassadorship in Siberia for that seat. Just a tickler.
GP: (Laughs nervously) You’re something else, Rod.
RB: (Smiles) I know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go argue with a cloud about my parole officer.
(RB fades into the background, still talking on his phone.)
GP: (To the camera) So... I withdraw. By July 13. No conditions. Just... I just hope they pick someone who really is better than me.
(GP looks at his phone. A single bar of signal appears.)
GP: (Whispering) Wait... is that a text from Bernie?
(GP’s face lights up. He taps the screen.)
GP: (Reading) "Good move, Graham. Now go home. And maybe take a nap."
(GP smiles. He looks up at the camera.)
GP: (To the audience) You know... maybe the best leadership is knowing when to hang up.
(GP fades into the cloud. The screen fades to black.)
TEXT ON SCREEN: Based on a true story. Or at least, a very confusing one.
FADE OUT.