Pentagon Shenans • The Double Tantrum | FUNNIES

Act 1: The Routine

Capitol hallway. Speaker Prancy “Iron Fist” Palladino (mid-80s era sharp pantsuit, ice-cold glare) is mid-tirade at her two exhausted staffers. Papers fly. A nearby intern ducks for cover.

SPEAKER PALLADINO

I will not be disrespected by some mid-level committee clerk! Do you understand me?! I built this place! From the ground—up! Does the term "Grassroots" mean anything to you imbeciles? I own the floor! Get me those votes or so help me I will end careers!

Staffer tries the usual damage control.

STAFFER

(tired, practiced tone) Ma’am… it’s just a scheduling conflict. Please lower your voice. People are staring. Again.

SPEAKER PALLADINO

Staring?! Let them stare! What do I care? I am the uh-dult in the room and I will not be treated like some… some… bottom-feeding backbencher!

She storms off in a cloud of sour perfume and feline fury, muttering about “insubordination” and “kids these days.” Her staff share the usual look with each other as she storms away.

Act 2: Collision Course

Around the corner, Senator Bobby “Warhawk” Hawkins is having his own full nuclear tantrum in the middle of the hallway. Tie half-undone, face red, stomping his feet like a toddler who just lost his juice box, sitting frumped over on the floor. Several phones are already recording.

SENATOR HAWKINS

They can’t ban me from the SCIF forever! I have oversight! I have constituents! This is political persecution of the highest order! Someone hand me a new phone! Mine is broken again!

Speaker Palladino skids to a halt. The rage on her face vanishes the second she recognizes him. Instant switch-flip scenario.

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(suddenly syrup-sweet) Ohhh Bobby… my sweet boy. What did those old meany-heads do to you this time?

Her staff catch up and freeze in pure horror.

STAFFER #2

(whispering) Oh, here we go…

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(coddling, cooing) Come here, sweetheart. They just don’t understand how hard it is being a strong, independent senator with such important feelings. Don't listen to them, honey. You’re not a national embarrassment — you’re a visionary!

SENATOR HAWKINS

(sniffling, instantly leaning into it) They… they said I couldn’t tweet about the golden eagle anymore…

Palladino squats down and wraps an arm around his shoulders and coddles him with her other hand like he’s five years old, completely smothering him and contradicting every word she just screamed at her own staff.

Act 3: The Reality Check

A four-star general (stone-faced, dress uniform, zero patience left) rounds the corner and stops dead at the spectacle.

GENERAL

Senator Hawkins. Get off the floor. Straighten your tie… You are a United States Senator and a national embarrassment. Clean yourself up. Now.

SENATOR HAWKINS

(looks at Palladino) See?

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(defensive) You're right, (looks at medals) Sergeant. He is a United States Senator. But that doesn't mean you get to bully him like you do in all those bootcamps, sir.

GENERAL

Bootcamps? Miss Palladino, I am a godamned General, and being as someone in your position, it would bein your best interest to know that. Now, I advise you to attend to your own affairs, or dont. But, your staff is over there looking like they're waiting for their moment to jump in and skip rope with you. Is this what you wanted? To give social media a peek into your three ring circus that is your political life? Because, I have no problem…

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(scoffs) I'd never! You want to keep those medals, General?

GENERAL

Ma'am… respectfully… what are you going to do, subpoena me? Get the fuck out of here… (looks over) Hawkins, I said to straighten yourself up! You've got a crowd filming you like you need to examine your fly.

Hawkins darts his vision downward and covers his fly. He frantically looks around. Cameras. Staffers. Tourists. Everyone is watching. His face wipes into pure panic. He scrambles to his feet, dusts off his suit. He straightens his tie and turns his nose up, eyes closed.

SENATOR HAWKINS

(stiff, snooty) I was simply expressing legitimate concern for the Republic. Excuse me.

He struts off in a hurried, self-important waddle, trying very hard to look dignified while still half-stomping.

GENERAL

(yelling) And next time you throw a tantrum in the hallway, try not to look like a toddler waddling off who just shit his pants, Senator!

Speaker Palladino scurries after Hawkins, still in full smother-mode, completely ignoring the general and her own staff’s dead-eyed stares.

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(chasing, cooing) Don’t listen to that mean man, Bobby! You’re a fighter! A hero! Mama’s got you, sweetie. (pinches cheek) Let’s get you a snack and a new press release…

SENATOR HAWKINS

(bossy) I want a primetime segment instead.

SPEAKER PALLADINO

(purses lips) Oh, we'll get you that segment, sweetie.

She licks her thumb and wipes dirt off his face. Hawkins shakes her off like a toddler avoiding cooties, still strutting with his nose in the air.

SENATOR HAWKINS

(muttering, without looking back) Leave me alone… I can do it myself…

Her staff just stand there, defeated. One of them updates the daily “Meltdown Counter” on his phone.