Production Note: The set is a single long table. Behind the table sits THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, lit from below in a warm amber glow that never quite reaches her eyes. Facing her, in a semicircle, are THE QUESTIONERS — each at a small desk with a microphone, a timer counting down from five minutes, and a glass of water they will never drink. Behind THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, in shadow, sit THE SURVIVORS. They are always there. The audience should always be able to see them. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL never turns around. Not once. A large clock is projected upstage. It is always running out. THE CHAIRMAN sits to the side with a gavel he wields like a conductor’s baton — but only when certain people are speaking.
Dramatis Personae
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL — A woman who answers questions the way a magician handles pigeons: with misdirection, flourish, and absolute confidence that you didn’t see what you just saw
THE CHAIRMAN — The referee who only blows the whistle when the away team has the ball
QUESTIONER ONE (The Gentlewoman) — Asks about survivors. Gets called theatrical.
QUESTIONER TWO (The Elder Statesman) — Has been counting to zero for forty years. Is told his four-minute question deserves a four-minute answer.
QUESTIONER THREE (The Former Prosecutor) — Asks yes-or-no questions. Will not receive yes-or-no answers.
QUESTIONER FOUR (The Coloradan) — Tries to discuss the gutting of the Public Integrity Section. Is told about crime in his district.
THE CHORUS OF DEFENDERS — Majority members who use their five minutes to deliver five-minute standing ovations in question form
THE SURVIVORS — Seated upstage. Silent. Waiting for an apology that will be reclassified as “theatrics”
THE CLOCK — Always right. Always ignored.
Lights rise on THE CHAIRMAN, already mid-sentence. He has been talking for some time. Behind him, a screen displays a photograph of a man described as violent. Then another photograph. Then statistics. Then more statistics. Then the word CRAZY in large letters, attributed to a Governor. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL nods along with the serene focus of a person listening to their favorite song.
THE CHAIRMAN
Eighteen cities. Eleven states. Three counties. Thirty-one percent of the population. One phone call. One phone call is all it takes, and they won’t make it. Let’s talk about Abraham Gonzalez. Arrested. Released. Arrested. Charged. Arrested. Released. Arrested.
(He is a metronome of indignation.)
And while the previous administration was doing all this — letting bad guys out, targeting parents, raiding pro-life advocates — they couldn’t tell us who planted the pipe bombs. Who leaked the Dobbs opinion. And who — WHO — put cocaine in the White House.
A beat. THE CHORUS OF DEFENDERS murmurs approvingly. THE CLOCK ticks. Somewhere, a fact-checker weeps.
THE CHAIRMAN
But what a difference a year makes. What a DIFFERENCE. A year. Makes.
♪ “What a Difference a Year Makes” (THE CHAIRMAN, with CHORUS OF DEFENDERS)
What a difference a year makes,
Twelve little months is all it takes,
Where there once was lawfare and rain,
Now the sun shines on our campaign—
Murders down! Guns seized! Children found!
Maduro captured! Drugs off the ground!
Six of the top ten most wanted — got ’em!
What a difference when you hit rock bottom!
(THE CHORUS, in harmony:)
We ended the weaponization,
Restored the pride of the nation,
What a difference, what a difference,
What a diff’rence a year makes!
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL smiles. This is the part of the hearing she prepared for. THE SURVIVORS shift in their seats.
QUESTIONER ONE leans into her microphone. Her timer reads 5:00. It begins counting down the moment she opens her mouth. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL’s timer, by contrast, appears to be optional.
QUESTIONER ONE
Attorney General Bondi, the survivors of Jeffrey Epstein’s trafficking operation are sitting directly behind you. Your Department of Justice fired the lead prosecutor on this case. You sat on evidence for an entire year and then issued a memo claiming there were no more leads. Will you turn to those survivors and apologize for the harm your department has done?
A silence. THE SURVIVORS lean forward. The audience can see their faces. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL does not turn around.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(With the warmth of a realtor showing a house with a body in the crawlspace:)
Congresswoman, you sat before Merrick Garland in this chair. Twice.
QUESTIONER ONE
I’m reclaiming my time — I asked you a specific—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
Didn’t she ask Merrick Garland this? Twice? Mr. Chairman—
THE CHAIRMAN
The Attorney General can respond—
QUESTIONER ONE
This is not about anybody who came before you. It is about YOU taking responsibility—
THE CHAIRMAN
Members get to ask the question, the witness gets to answer in the way they want to answer—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(Standing slightly, as if addressing a jury that isn’t there:)
I’m not going to get in the gutter for her theatrics.
Freeze. Spotlight isolates THE SURVIVORS. They are looking at the back of THE ATTORNEY GENERAL’s head. They have been looking at the back of her head for an hour. They will look at the back of her head for four more hours. She will not turn around.
QUESTIONER ONE
(Timer: 0:17)
What a massive cover-up.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
I’m answering the question!
QUESTIONER ONE
(Timer: 0:09)
Stop the time. She’s doing theatrics. Let me have my time—
THE CHAIRMAN
The gentle lady has seventeen seconds.
♪ “Seventeen Seconds” (QUESTIONER ONE, solo)
Seventeen seconds to ask about the children,
Seventeen seconds — she’ll eat up at least eleven,
Seventeen seconds to say the word “survivor”
While she tells me I’m the one down in the gutter,
Seventeen seconds — the clock says I’m dramatic,
The Chairman says I’m done, the answer is “erratic,”
But the people sitting right behind her chair
Have been waiting seventeen months — and she won’t even turn to stare.
— brief darkness —
QUESTIONER THREE approaches the microphone. She holds two printed emails. One describes a “Russian civilian” who is “fun.” The other mentions a Ukrainian girl who was “a little freaked out by the age difference.” These are real emails from the Epstein files. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL adjusts her posture as if preparing to dodge something.
QUESTIONER THREE
I’d like to ask a straightforward question that really is either a yes or no answer. Do these emails constitute credible evidence — not proof, but credible evidence — warranting further investigation?
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
I’m not going to play a yes-no game with you.
QUESTIONER THREE
It’s not a game—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
But I WILL answer the question to the best of my ability. As I said, we will look and investigate any case involving any victim. There were three million pages, of course—
QUESTIONER THREE
I only have five minutes—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
—and I only have thirty seconds based on your filibuster—
THE CLOCK shows that QUESTIONER THREE has spoken for ninety seconds and THE ATTORNEY GENERAL has spoken for ninety-three. But who’s counting? Not THE CHAIRMAN.
♪ “The Yes-or-No Tango” (QUESTIONER THREE and THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, duet)
QUESTIONER: Yes or no?
ATTORNEY GENERAL: I won’t play games!
Q: It’s a question—
AG: Three million pages, three million names!
Q: Do these emails—
AG: We are looking into every single case—
Q: Then say yes!
AG: I’m answering at my own pace!
(Together, circling:)
One step forward, two steps back,
The tango of the non-attack,
She leads, I follow, I ask, she spins—
The dance is beautiful. Nobody wins.
A screen displays body camera footage. A man is yelling at police officers. The word “KILL HIM” is captioned on screen. QUESTIONER FOUR reads from a federal indictment. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL watches the footage with the detached interest of someone watching a cooking show.
QUESTIONER FOUR
Attorney General Bondi. That man works for you now. He was indicted for two felonies and four misdemeanors. One charge was forcibly assaulting, resisting, opposing, impeding, intimidating, and interfering with police officers. You hired him at the Department of Justice. The chief law enforcement agency in the country.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(The gentlest possible delivery of the most unhinged sentence:)
I believe he was pardoned by President Trump.
QUESTIONER FOUR
Oh, he was pardoned. You’re right. Pardoned for yelling “kill him” at police officers. And you expect hardworking police officers across the country to believe you take law enforcement seriously.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL does not respond to this. Instead, she begins answering a different question — one that has not been asked.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
I can tell you what administration ended the weaponization. I’ll reclaim my time.
QUESTIONER FOUR
You don’t get to reclaim my time, Madam Attorney General.
THE CHAIRMAN
(To the questioner, not to the witness:)
The time belongs to the gentleman.
QUESTIONER FOUR
When you started as Attorney General, there were thirty-five people working in the Public Integrity Section. There are now two. How many people work for the National Cryptocurrency Enforcement Team?
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
Can I answer the question about PIN?
QUESTIONER FOUR
I’ve asked you a question. How many people—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(Pivoting with the speed of a figure skater:)
I understand why you don’t want to talk about Common Solomon in your district. Who murdered people.
QUESTIONER FOUR stares. He had asked about cryptocurrency enforcement staffing. He is now being asked to defend himself against a murder in his district. This is a technique known in fencing as the riposte, in boxing as the counter-punch, and in congressional testimony as whatever the hell that was.
♪ “I’ll Answer the Question I Wish You Had Asked” (THE ATTORNEY GENERAL, power ballad)
You ask about staffing, I’ll talk about crime,
You ask about Epstein, I’ll talk about time,
You ask about pardons, I’ll mention the past,
I’ll answer the question I wish you had asked!
Three million pages! Merrick Garland sat here twice!
The previous administration! That’s my device!
You want a yes? You’ll get a paragraph.
You want accountability? You’ll get a laugh.
I’ll answer the question I wish you had asked,
And when the clock runs out, I’ll say you talked too fast,
Your filibuster ate our time! — though I’m the one who spoke,
And if you call it what it is, I’ll say that was a joke.
A DEFENDER from THE CHORUS takes the microphone. His five minutes will not contain a single question. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL settles in like a cat finding a sunbeam.
CHORUS MEMBER
Attorney General Bondi, I just want to say — what an incredible year. Murders down twenty percent. DC violent crime down twenty-eight percent. Eight thousand arrests. Eight hundred guns. Sixteen missing children found. You have done more in one year than the previous administration did in four. Can you tell us about the incredible work you’re doing to keep Americans safe?
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(Beaming, as if finally asked the right question for the first time in three hours:)
Thank you, Congressman. I’d love to.
She speaks for four minutes and forty-seven seconds. Nobody interrupts. Nobody reclaims their time. THE CHAIRMAN does not mention that the time belongs to anyone. THE CLOCK, for once, seems to slow down.
♪ “The Softball Serenade” (CHORUS OF DEFENDERS, ensemble)
Tell us how great you are, we’ve got five minutes,
Tell us about the drugs, the guns, the limits
Of the previous administration’s shame—
We’re not here to ask, we’re here to frame!
Isn’t it true that you’re the best AG?
Isn’t it true the left hates you and me?
Isn’t it true that Garland was a hack?
These aren’t questions — they’re a pat on the back!
QUESTIONER TWO has been in Congress since before THE ATTORNEY GENERAL passed the bar. He leans into the microphone. He speaks slowly, because the facts are heavy. He has four minutes of context. He will be told this is a “four-minute question.”
QUESTIONER TWO
How many of Epstein’s co-conspirators have you indicted?
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
First you showed it, I find it — how many have—
QUESTIONER TWO
Answer my question.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
No, I’m going to answer the question the way I want to answer the question. Your theatrics are—
QUESTIONER TWO
Ask the question the way I asked it.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
Chairman Jordan, I’m not going to get in the gutter with these people.
“These people.” The elected representatives of the United States Congress. She gestures vaguely in their direction as if waving away gnats at a picnic. THE SURVIVORS lean forward. They know about being waved away.
QUESTIONER TWO
(After a procedural battle that costs him forty-five seconds he will never get back:)
The answer to my question — how many of Epstein’s co-conspirators she has indicted — is zero. You have been the Attorney General for a whole year. Your DOJ fired the lead prosecutor. Sat on evidence this entire time. Claimed falsely last July that there were no more leads. It took an act of Congress to force your hand.
♪ “Zero” (QUESTIONER TWO, spoken over a slow drumbeat)
How many indicted? Zero.
How many pages reviewed in public? Zero.
How many times she turned to face the survivors? Zero.
How many yes-or-no answers? Zero.
How many times the Chairman stopped her clock? Zero.
Three million pages and the number is zero.
Twelve months in office and the number is zero.
Four computers for four hundred and thirty-five members —
and the most transparent administration in history
gives you a number,
and the number,
always,
is zero.
We are now deep in the hearing. The air has thickened. The questions have sharpened. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL has developed a rhythm — a kind of verbal judo where every incoming question is redirected toward one of seven approved landing zones: (1) Merrick Garland, (2) the previous administration, (3) crime in the questioner’s district, (4) three million pages, (5) the most transparent presidency ever, (6) “I’m not going to play games,” or (7) simply speaking until the timer expires. THE SURVIVORS have not moved. A QUESTIONER asks about Trump’s connections to Epstein.
QUESTIONER
Were there underage girls at that party or at any party that Trump attended with Jeffrey Epstein?
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
This is so ridiculous, and they are trying to deflect from all the great things Donald Trump has done. There is no evidence that Donald Trump has committed a crime. Everyone knows this has been the most transparent presidency—
QUESTIONER
Reclaiming my time—
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
He’s the one who asked that those files be released!
A QUESTIONER from the other side notes, almost to himself: “It’s been twelve months since you gave Republican influencers Part One of the Epstein files. You said the list was on your desk. Then a memo came out and said there was no list. Phase Two never happened. The President calls it a hoax.” He pauses. “Before Trump, we didn’t know the word transparency.”
The hearing is ending. Hours have passed. The timers have expired and been reset and expired again, dozens of times. Every question from the minority has been met with the same choreography: deflect, accuse, run out the clock, invoke Garland, call it theatrics, never turn around. THE SURVIVORS are still seated. They have watched the back of a head for the entire performance. The lights narrow. Only THE ATTORNEY GENERAL is lit. She speaks to no one in particular — or perhaps to everyone watching at home.
THE ATTORNEY GENERAL
(Straightening her papers, satisfied:)
I think this has been very productive. We’ve been transparent. We’ve answered every question. We’ve shown the American people what accountability looks like.
Behind her, THE SURVIVORS stand. One by one. Not dramatically — not theatrically — just standing. Because they’ve been sitting for a very long time. THE ATTORNEY GENERAL gathers her materials. She does not turn around.
♪ “The Gutter” (Full Company, finale)
ATTORNEY GENERAL:
I never got in the gutter,
I never lowered myself,
I answered every question
With poise and grace and stealth—
QUESTIONERS:
She never answered a question,
She never said yes or no,
She called our oversight “theatrics”
And put on quite a show—
THE CHAIRMAN:
The time belongs to the gentle-person,
The witness may respond as she sees fit,
I’ll give you seventeen more seconds
If you promise not to use them—
THE SURVIVORS (finally, softly):
We sat behind her all day long,
We heard the speeches and the song,
We heard her say she’d find the truth
While never looking at the proof.
She said she wouldn’t play our games,
She said she wouldn’t say our names,
She said she’d never stoop so low—
ALL:
But the gutter is where the truth is,
The gutter is where they left us,
The gutter is where the children were,
The gutter is where the files are,
The gutter is where the questions go
When no one has to answer them.
(THE ATTORNEY GENERAL exits without turning around.)
(THE SURVIVORS remain standing.)
(THE CLOCK reads 0:00.)
(The lights do not go down.)
— the lights do not go down —
— END —
Author’s Note: Every rhetorical move in this play — every deflection, every “I’m not going to play games,” every accusation of “theatrics,” every refusal to answer yes or no, every invocation of Merrick Garland, every instance of answering a question that wasn’t asked, and every single second that the Attorney General of the United States did not turn to face the survivors of sexual trafficking sitting three feet behind her — is drawn directly from the Congressional testimony of February 11, 2026. The structure is fiction. The technique is documentary. The gutter is real.