A grimy, dimly lit interrogation cell. A tall, elderly man with a cloth hood over his head and dressed in pajamas is shackled to a metal chair. Behind him a frightful DEMON straight out of a Hieronymus Bosch painting is standing with a bored expression on his face. Off to one side is a metal table with various items on top: an enormous water container with a rubber tube coming out its opening, a towel, a dog leash, a pair of women’s panties, an electronic pump of some kind with a rubber tube attached. After a moment, SATAN enters the cell. He nods to the DEMON, who instantly rips the hood off the man in the chair, revealing a highly disorientated DONALD RUMSFELD. RUMSFELD looks around the room, his eyes struggling to adjust to the light.
RUMSFELD: What…What is this? Where am I?
SATAN: Ah, welcome, Mr. Secretary. I hope you’ll find your accommodations acceptable. We’ve gone to some trouble to make things just right.
RUMSFELD: Where are we?
SATAN: Well, we created an exact replica of Abu Ghraib for you, Mr. Secretary.
RUMSFELD: What?
SATAN: But to be more precise, you are in Hell.
RUMSFELD: Hell?
SATAN: Hell, Hades, the Inferno, the Lake of Fire, the Place of Perdition, the Abyss–
RUMSFELD: (with growing apprehension) And you are…you are…
SATAN: (smiling serenely) Yes.
RUMSFELD: Wait a minute…I wasn’t feeling well, and then…
SATAN: You died, Mr. Secretary. You’re dead…with hundreds of thousands of lives and an impressive legacy of torture and depravity on your conscience, and you never repented so…here we are.
RUMSFELD: But I’m a Christian! I publicly spoke about my “faith journey” in a Fox News interview and–
SATAN: Yes, when you did that, you enhanced your status amongst the damned by violating Christ’s condemnation of public hypocrites in the New Testament, which I believe is the foundation of Christianity.
RUMSFELD: (noting the items on top of the table) What’s…what’s all that stuff?
SATAN: Surely you recognize these items, Mr. Secretary. They are the tools you authorized for “enhanced interrogation” of detainees. (he picks up the pump with the rubber tube) This, for instance, is a pump for rectal rehydration–used for pumping pureed food directly up the ass of recalcitrant detainees…somewhat uncomfortable, I understand, but highly effective in putting them in a sharing mood…as you’ll soon discover.
RUMSFELD: Wait a minute, you’re not going to–
SATAN: (puts pump down) And this water container and tube is for waterboarding. You see, you place a towel over the detainee’s face and you pour water over it, creating the sensation of drowning. But don’t worry, it’s not torture, it’s enhanced interrogation like you said. That dog leash there is for sexual humiliation–same with those panties, which we’ll put over your head while you’re shackled in a stress position and forced to endure cold temperature and death metal music is blasted at an excruciating volume. I believed you described this as “softening up” the detainees.
RUMSFELD: Look, we liberated millions of people from a tyrant, and there were no more 9/11 attacks after we went into Iraq!
The DEMON behind RUMSFELD bursts out laughing as does SATAN. The DEMON grabs RUMSFELD by the hair and turns his face toward him.
DEMON: Do we look like the fat old cracker fucks who watch Fox News to you, Rummy?
SATAN: If you wish to continue with the lies that brought you here, Mr. Secretary, by all means, do so. It will make the enhanced interrogation that much more entertaining.
RUMSFELD: I never lied.
The DEMON and SATAN burst out laughing again.
SATAN: Did you hear that, Moloch? He never lied.
The DEMON pulls a list off the table and begins reading from it.
DEMON: “We know where they are. They’re in the area around Tikrit and Baghdad and east, west, south and north somewhat.” March 30th, 2003.
SATAN: You said you knew where the nonexistent weapons of mass destruction were, Mr. Secretary. You fabricated a pretext to start a war and two hundred thousand Iraqis died because of your lies. Not to mention four thousand of your own troops, many of whom died because you didn’t provide them with armor plated vehicles. You arrested Iraqis off the street or in their own homes and interrogated some of them with no interpreters. You broke the Geneva Convention by not registering prisoners so nobody would ever find out what happened to them. And while you died peacefully in your bed, the slaughter you started in Iraq is still going on.
RUMSFELD: Listen, it wasn’t just me. There were others in the administration who–
SATAN: (to the DEMON) What do you think, Moloch? Should we start with waterboarding or–
RUMSFELD: Listen, it was Cheney. The Vice President. Dick Cheney was my boss! He ran the whole goddamned show. I can give you whatever information you want on Cheney!
DEMON: Maybe we shackle him standing in a stress position for half a day for openers?
SATAN: That’s right, Mr. Secretary. Remember, you wrote that note on the Pentagon memorandum approving enhanced interrogation techniques asking why detainees shouldn’t have to endure standing in stress positions for longer periods of time since you stood for eight hours a day at your desk?
RUMSFELD: Did you hear what I said? I’ll give up Dick Cheney!
SATAN: Oh, we’ve got everything we need on that motherfucker, but thanks anyway.
RUMSFELD: Okay, how about Condi Rice? Or Colin Powell?
DEMON: (laughing) We haven’t even started yet and he’s ready to give up everybody he ever had coffee with.
RUMSFELD: I’ll give you Douglas Feith!
DEMON: (to SATAN) Shall we peruse his Facebook friends?
RUMSFELD: George W. Bush. I’ll give you Bush!
SATAN: Okay, I say waterboarding or rectal rehydration.
DEMON: Shall we flip a coin?
SATAN: Okay, heads waterboarding–
DEMON: (pulling a coin out of his pocket) Got it. (he flips the coin onto the floor, then picks it up) Looks like rectal rehydration it is.
RUMSFELD: No!!
The DEMON picks the pump up off the table, and as he flips the switch, an unnerving buzzing sound starts up.
SATAN: Buck up, Mr. Secretary. Remember, it’s not torture, it’s “enhanced interrogation.” I’m afraid you’ll need to remove those pajama pants, Mr. Secretary…
The lights fade on the scene as they prepare for RUMSFELD’S enhanced interrogation.