“Honey Badger Don’t Give a Shit”

-motto of Steve Bannon, White House chief strategist

On the plains of Africa – circa 18,000 BCE

Gog is standing by Dug and Dug’s woman Laka. An incessant buzzing is heard and eyes turn to see a honey badger contentedly gnawing on a honeycomb while swarmed by thousands of angry bees.

Dug – Honey badger take what want. Stings no bother.

Gog – Me honey badger. Me no give shit. Take what want.

Gog puts his hand on Laka’s breast. She slaps his face.

Gog – Slap no bother. Gog puts his other hand on Laka’s other breast.

Laka – Keep small hands off. She slaps him again. Gog grabs her groin.

Gog – Wookie grab.

Laka – Dug! She bashes Gog on head with a small rock.

Gog – See stars, but no bother. Honey badger want wookie. While Gog fiddles with his loincloth, Dug picks up a large rock in both hands and stoves Gog’s head in. Gog crumbles to ground.

Dug – Honey badger bothered.

Laka – Honey badger dead.

 

Pharaoh’s palace – 1232 BCE

It’s been a tough week for the Egyptians. Sunday the Nile turned to blood; Monday frogs inundated the land, Tuesday was gnats, and so on until last night when every first born male of Egypt died. The plagues are attributed to Yahweh, the Hebrew god.

Ankhu, the Vizier, is quietly sobbing in the corner for his dead son.

Pharaoh – Ankhu! Sound the trumpet! We are giving chase to the Hebrew dogs!

Ankhu  – O Great Pharaoh, Son of Ra, Dispenser of Mercy, Destroyer of Infidels, I beseech you, let them go!

Pharaoh – Are you a woman?

Ankhu – O Great Pharaoh, Bringer of Light, Lord of Goodness, Father of Justice, Yahweh’s plagues have devastated Mother Egypt!

Pharaoh – Disloyal dog!  Who is the god who laughs in the face of pain? Who is the god whose strength grows with every set-back?

Ankhu – lowers his head It is you, O Great Pharaoh, Mighty God of the Honey Badger

Pharaoh – And don’t forget it! Now bring me the Honey Badger and call my army!

Ankhu hands Pharaoh the long-snouted mask and drapes a black coat with a thick white stripe over Pharaoh’s shoulders. Ankhu picks up the trumpet and blows.

 

The island of Elba – 1820

Napoleon Bonaparte sits in exile with his lieutenant, Marcel.

Marcel – Emperor, I’ve bribed the guards. A boat for our escape will be made ready tomorrow.

Napoleon, with hands clasped behind his back, stares at the wall and sighs.

Marcel – Emperor, did you hear me?

Napoleon – Yes, yes, Marcel. I heard. I’ve no stomach for it. Defeated by the Russian winter. And now Josephine dead. I am done.

Marcel – Can it be true? The Uniter of Europe? The giver of the Napoleonic Code too defeated to stanch France’s carnage?

Napoleon – I am no more than a simple, defeated man.

Marcel – This cannot be. You are our savior!

Napoleon remains unmoved.

Are you not the Honey Badger of France?

Napoleon slowly turns from the wall to face Marcel. For the first time since his exile, his eyes gleam, his posture straightens, and he thrusts his right hand into his shirt.

Napoleon – Do not stand as a mute. Pack my bag and sharpen my sword. I will march to Waterloo, for I have an engagement with that British dog Wellington.

 

Little Big Horn – 1876

The 7^th Calvary under the command of General George Armstrong Custer is being badly beaten by a force of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapaho. Out of Custer’s initial 600 men, he and his brother Boston are two of the dozen soldiers still standing.

Boston – This is a fine mess you’ve got us into.

George – Don’t falter, Boston, we’ve got them on the run.

Boston – Shit! A goddamn arrow into my thigh!

George – Don’t be such a little girl.

George yanks the arrow from Boston’s thigh. Boston screams.

George – You’ve always been too soft.

A bullet strikes George in the arm.

George – shouts at the Indians You’re making me more pissed off you dirty Redskin dogs!

Boston – How do you do it? We’re being massacred, you’re shot in the arm, and still you taunt them.

George takes aim with his good arm and shoots.

George –Remember that book Ma read us when we were little about them honey badgers who never give up? That’s me. I’m a honey badger and don’t give a shit. Damn, I just took one in the side! Fuck you, Redskin! I’m going to kill you all!

 

Beverly Hills – 1962

Richard Nixon just conceded the California governorship to Edmund “Pat” Brown. This follows his defeat by Kennedy two years prior for the presidency. His political career appears to be over. He is mobbed by reporters.

Reporter – Mr. Vice President, anything to add to your concession speech?

Nixon – Never in my 16 years of campaigning have I complained about your coverage of me. I only wish you’d give my opponent the same going over that you give me. For 16 years, you’ve never missed an opportunity to attack me.  You’re going to miss me. You won’t have Nixon to kick around anymore, because, gentlemen, this is my last press conference. Good night.

Nixon leaves the stage. His wife, Pat, embraces him.

Pat – Honey, the media has always treated you so unfairly. Now we can finally live a quiet life in San Clemente. I’m so happy for us.

Nixon takes Pat’s shoulders and holds her at arms’ length.

Nixon – I don’t give a shit how they treat me. I’m a honey badger. I’ll be back in ‘68.

 

The cockpit of American Airlines Flight 11 – 2001

At the controls, the hijackers Mohamed Atta and Abdul Aziz are flying low over Manhattan approaching the North Tower of the World Trade Center.

Abdul – Have you said your final prayers?

Mohamed – Yes. Are you ready to martyr yourself for the glory of Allah?

Abdul – And the 70 virgins.

Mohamed – Yes, the 70 virgins.

In the lull, a child’s scream can be heard from the cabin. Abdul cocks his head and becomes contemplative as the World Trade Towers come into view.

Abdul – Does it bother you about the innocent children among the infidels?

Mohamed glares at Abdul for a moment, then turns to the North Tower.

Mohamed – America is corrupt. I want to bring everything crashing down, and destroy it all. Innocent children? No American is innocent. Besides, I’m a Honey Badger. Honey Badger don’t give a shit.

Mohamed guns the engines.

 

Mar-a-Lago– 2016

Donald Trump’s campaign is in free fall. Pussygate dominates the news cycle.  Hillary Clinton has whipped him in the debates. Her lead is so large, she is seen at Nordstrom’s picking out curtain swatches for the Oval Office. Trump is having a drink with his campaign chair, Steve Bannon, at poolside.

Steve – You look relaxed.

Donald – Just thinking about headquartering Trump TV at Trump Hotel Washington DC.

Steve – What the fuck you talking about?

Donald – The day after the election, I’m starting Trump TV. This campaign has been great. More publicity than I ever dreamed of. And power, so much power. When Hillary’s President, she’s going have to go through me to make any deal because I’ve got the people behind me. Oh, I’m going to make some sweet deals.

Steve – That cunt isn’t going to be President, you are, so you won’t have time to start a fucking TV station.

Donald laughs and shakes his empty glass at his butler.

Another Diet Pepsi! Steve, gin and tonic?

Steve slaps the empty glass out of Donald’s hand.

Steve – What the fuck. You had some setbacks. You think honey badgers give up when a swarm of bees stings it? Or if some cunt cobra bites it? Or a fucking hyena throttles it?

Donald – What the hell are you talking about? A honey badger? Is it like a pussy grab?

Steve – It is the toughest mother-fucking animal in the world. Honey Badger don’t give a shit about what happens to it. It wants something and it gets it. Nothing stops it. Like you and me. Forget TV. When you’re the fucking President, you can bring everything crashing down, and destroy all of today’s establishment. Isn’t that why we got into this? Isn’t this why so many people love you?

Donald – I am very loved. Extremely loved. My rallies are 10, probably 20 times bigger than hers.

Steve – They’re the ones going to elect you President.

Donald – It’s called a Honey Badger?

Steve – Yeah, a fucking Honey Badger.