A balding white man with facial hair knocks at a door; the small opening slides, and a woman’s voice is heard.

 

Pam Bondi (sternly): Password.

 

Brendan Carr (whispering and looking around him): Pen is nonexistent.

 

The opening closes, and Pam Bondi opens the door. Both men enter the premises.

 

Pam Bondi (surprised): Wait a minute, are you – oh, crap we’re winning them over, huh?

 

Brendan Carr (looks at the other man): Oh, yeah, it’s Bob Igor -

 

Bob Iger (clicks his tongue): Iger, not Igor! You know that.

 

Pam Bondi: Who? I was talking about you. (She points to Brendan Carr.) Aren’t you that famous comedian? With you by our side, we’ll be able to gain more liberals for MAGA.

 

Bob Iger (insulted): First of all, I’m the CEO of Disney, okay? By the way, you’re welcome. Also, no, he’s Brendan Carr, the FCC guy, not Bill Burr.

 

Pam Bondi (disappointed): Darn, we always do count our chickens before they hatch. Not that all of us can even count.

 

The two men look at each other uneasily.

 

Pam Bondi (claps her hands): Well then, everybody ready?

 

She starts to put on a hazmat suit. The two men just stare at her and themselves.

 

Pam Bondi: Oh, this? Don’t worry about it; newcomers can just go in their usual clothes.

 

Brendan Carr (rubbing his hands together): So, where’s the exclusive club?

 

Pam Bondi (frustrated and whispering): I hate it when they mansplain.

 

Bob Iger (cupping his ear): Sorry, sweetie, one more time now.

 

Pam Bondi (loudly and faking kindness): I said, ‘If you will let me explain.’

 

Both men shake their heads and signal for her to continue.

 

Pam Bondi (nods): Right, so we just through this opening. Just make sure to crouch and carefully enter.

 

All three crawl and enter a dark tunnel. They move in silence for a couple of minutes.

 

Brendan Carr: So, how many times have you been here? It’s crazy that you, a woman, have been allowed here before me, I mean, us?

 

Bob Iger nods behind Brendan Carr; Pam Bondi cannot see them just hears them and sighs.

 

Pam Bondi: Well, the fact that I have a hazmat suit means that I sometimes come and go as I please, right?

 

Bob Iger (yelling): So, when will we get there?

 

Pam Bondi (sighs): Well, let’s see, we just went through his anal, so it’ll still be a long ways up.

 

Both men freak out and start yelling.

 

Bob Iger (confused): What the hell, Carr? You said it was an exclusive, rich club?

 

Brendan Carr (still hopeful): No, no, she doesn’t know anything! She’s just a woman! I heard that Elon Musk, Jeff Bezos, Mark Zuckerberg, and so many have made it through here! I think she meant annals, right, honey?

 

Pam Bondi (yelling): No, you morons; you signed up for this! Can’t you feel that the floor and walls surrounding you are made of the same squishy, disgusting material?

 

Bob Iger: Oh hell no! I’m gonna be sick! (starts making throw up noises)

 

Brendan Carr (slaps Bob): Get a grip; we can do this the easy way or the hard way.

 

Pam Bondi (clarifying): Well, there is no penis, so, this is the easiest entry.

 

Bob Iger starts throwing up.

 

Tom Homan (grunts): Do you mind? Some of us are trying to sleep here!

 

They all turn to see, through some fluorescent bacteria illumination, a large cancerous polyp with a face.

 

Pam Bondi (nonchalantly): Oh, sorry for the disturbance, Tom. Go back to sleep.

 

Brendan Carr (gasps): Wait a minute, Tom Homan? Why is he –

 

Pam Bondi (interrupts): A tumor? Yeah, some guys really want to mesh themselves with Trump that they’re willing to discard their cells to be incels. You should be grateful we didn’t run into Steve Bannon! He isn’t as nice about any disturbance!

 

Bob Iger: No!! This is it! I can’t continue, Carr. Screw this!

 

Pam Bondi (clicking her tongue): Tsk tsk tsk. We told you, Brendan, you’d only be permitted if you and they could commit! You hear that?

 

A cacophony of doppler noises begin to surround them.

 

Pam Bondi (continues): That’s Kash Patel and his legion ready to take you both out.

 

Brendan Carr (shocked): Wait a minute! Why are they wearing that attire?!

 

Kash Patel arrives with an unnaturally, large amount of white blood cells dressed as Klansmen. The white blood cells begin to surround and expel Kash Patel.

 

Kash Patel (angry): Dammit! You fools, not me! You’re supposed to go after them!! Noooo!!!

​

The white blood cells and Kash Patel exit.

 

Pam Bondi (sighs): Ugh, nevermind. So, you both ready to go?

 

Both men hesitate, and Pam Bondi notices it.

 

Pam Bondi: Look, you’re either in or you’re out. You can try and aim for the skull, or you can stay here in this dark tunnel. It’s up to you!

 

Brendan Carr: I’m in. I mean, what else do I have to lose?

 

Pam Bondi: Okay, then. Once we finish climbing up the large intestine and fighting our way through the small one, there’s only the stomach and its acids; then we just have to defy gravity through the esophagus, and we’re practically there!

 

Brendan Carr: Is that where I can rule?

 

Pam Bondi: Well, that’s where Stephen Miller, Jeff Bezos,  and Elon Musk integrated themselves on the tongue because there’s no brain, but they do dictate, as tastebuds, what enters and what doesn’t. Oh, plus you’re bald, too! So, you’re a future tastebud! Congratulations!

 

BLACKOUT.