Just a little note before our tale begins…I’m well aware a lot of the historical figures I write about have been represented on H!. The figures are not based on the H! representations, but on my own. I mean no disrespect to our Founding Fathers by this…in fact, I feel for them only the deepest respect, both Federalist and Anti-Federalist. That done, let’s begin…


NEWSPAPER WARS

(Scene: It is night, in the Tidewater region of Virginia. A warm, humid breeze rustles the trees around a large, Georgian plantation with an oddly-domed roof. A carriage pulls up, and a man walks out. He’s short…probably only five-four, with long hair tied up in a green bow and a nervous expression. He’s wearing a black waistcoat, a white cravat tucked into a black vest, black breeches, and black traveling boots. His name is James Madison. James knocks on the door softly, looking around him, like he suspects he’s being watched. He knocks again, and the door opens. Another man stands behind it. His name is Tom Jefferson. He’s tall…around six-one…with reddish hair and a quiet, almost sinister expression. He’s wearing a purple waistcoat, with a long, lacy cravat, not tucked into his lighter-purple vest. He has one black breeches and white stockings. Tom motions for James to come in, and James does so. Tom closes the door behind them.)

Tom: (in aggravation) Do you know what time it is!? Nearly twelve! Did anyone see you come in?

James: No. And I’m sorry Tom, but I just got here, and it’s too late to find an inn. Plus, that would look more suspicious. People know we’re friends, they won’t suspect. And besides, Tom, who do we have to hide from here?

Tom: Well…you have a point. Anyway, speaking of suspicion…do Hamilton and Jay know anything?

James: No. They still think I’m with them.

Tom: Excellent. Now, do you have it?

James: Yes. It took a hell of a lot of wheedling, but Hamilton finally let me see it. (reaches into the pocket of his waistcoat and procures a rolled up piece of paper.) Here you go. (hands it to Tom)

Tom: Excellent. (skims through the paper)

James: I didn’t read it yet. What is it?

Tom: (with an enraged look) Just what I thought it was! Hamilton’s assumption plans! Damn…I didn’t think he would actually carry this out…and if he presents this in Congress, Washington is definitely going to support it.

James: Assumption!? Does that mean…

Tom: Yes. He’s going to try to make Virginia pay off the other states’ debts! Like Virginia is in the same league as Connecticut or Rhode Island. It’s bad enough that we were forced into this Confederation. Now, to try and take our money!?

James: Well what are we going to do about it? With Washington’s support, it’s going to pass eventually. No matter how many Federalists we kill, with Washington in power, we’ll never be strong enough.

Tom: I know. Look, James, you’ve had a hard journey. Go upstairs and get some sleep. I’ll try and figure this out. And tomorrow we can meet with Patrick Henry and the other Antis.

James: All right. See you in the morning.

Tom: (distracted) Uh-huh.

(James walks upstairs. When his footsteps disappear, a new figure comes out of the shadows, but his face is still unseen. Tom turns to him.)

Tom: I think I know what you’re going to suggest.

Shadowed Figure: We have to kill Washington.

Tom: That’ll be much harder than murdering some unknown Federalists on the street. It could be dangerous.

Shadowed Figure: Having him in office is more dangerous. If Hamilton gets this damned assumption plan passed, then the precedent will be set. Virginia will fade into nothingness.

Tom: (in a rage of passion) THAT CANNOT HAPPEN!!!

Shadowed Figure: Then we have to kill Washington.

Tom: (softer, but still with force and passion) Yes. We have to kill Washington.

(Scene: A townhouse in New York City. It is the wee hours of the morning, and the streets are silent, except for a lone carriage every now and again. A man stands by the window inside the townhouse. He’s of medium height, with reddish-gold hair and strangely-colored, dark violet eyes. He’s wearing a blue-and-gold waistcoat, a cravat, not tucked into his light blue vest, black breeches, white stockings, and buckled shoes. His name is Alexander Hamilton. A man sits at a desk behind him. He has grayish hair and dark brown eyes. He is wearing black judicial robes. His name is John Jay. Both men look somber. Alexander finally turns to John)

Alexander: I guess we can’t kid ourselves anymore. Madison is definitely gone.

John: In more ways than one.

Alexander: (after staring at John for a second, he continues in a sad voice) My servant was talking to his chauffeur. Madison is heading ‘home’ to Virginia.

John: And to Jefferson.

Alexander: (in a hurt tone) Don’t say his name.

John: We have to know the enemy, Alexander. I know you’re still…well…

Alexander: Still upset because he killed Gouvener? Damn right I am.
John: Alexander, look…Jefferson is responsible for a lot of deaths. And we have to stop him. But we can’t do it blindly, in revenge. We have to be measured and careful, or we’re going to end up dead too.

Alexander: (after a long, silent moment. His eyes are shadowed, but he blinks, and it clears) I know, I know you’re right. But it’s harder for me to control my…

John: Emotional outbursts?

(Alexander and John both laugh a little, but it is weak, and half-hearted)

Alexander: Exactly. Anyway…why did he switch? Why did Madison switch? After helping us with the Papers…after doing all he did at the Convention…why the hell would he switch!?

John: Because, Alexander, he’s a Virginian. And Virginians will always be true to Virginia. They may start out true to our cause, but when push comes to shove, Virginians will always stand behind Virginia.

Alexander: General Washington is a Virginian.

John: He’s the exception.

Alexander: I guess so…(suddenly, he turns pale, and puts a hand to his face. He stumbles back a few steps, and turns to John, his eyes wide in alarm)

John: What!? What is it!?

Alexander: I know why he went back…my plans! My assumption plans! He must have…oh damn it…damn! (Alexander rushes to the desk and starts going through it, pulling out papers, searching desperately. Finally he stops, dejected)

John: You don’t mean to say that…that Madison stole your plans?

Alexander: I mean to say exactly that. He must have taken them to show Jefferson. And now…and now they’ll be more militant than ever…

John: (bleakly) We are in deep trouble.

Alexander: (equally bleak) Very deep.

(Scene: A lone man is running through the darkness of the Virginian night. He is out of breath, shaken, his face white. His name is Thomas Pinckney, a young senator from South Carolina. A Federalist. If this were real history, he would be the one responsible for securing America’s right to deposit goods on the Mississippi, from Spain, with Pinckney’s Treaty. But now, he’s running in fear from his own countrymen. He’s a strong, handsome-looking youth, wearing travelling clothing and boots)

Thomas: (breathing hard) Have to…have to get to…Mount Vernon…

(Suddenly, there is the sound of hoof beats. Thomas gasps, and runs faster, looking for cover. There is none. He is running through a bare, open field. Lowering his head and sprinting, he tries to outdistance the horse and rider, which have appeared on the horizon. Unfortunately, Thomas trips, splaying forward, his boot caught in a rotted stump)

Thomas: (struggling to pull his boot lose) Damnit! Come on, come on!

(The horse approaches, a huge, evil-looking black stallion, its eyes almost glowing red, steam coming from its nostrils. Its rider is a tall and imposing figure, his cloak flowing behind him in the moonlight.)

Thomas: (almost sobbing with fear, sweat rolling down his forehead) Please! Please, please, let go! (he struggles with his boot, but it won’t come lose. The horse bears down on him, stopping in a skid of dust and dirt mere inches from him. Thomas looks up, and his eyes widen) It’s…it’s you! Patrick Henry.

Patrick: (with a dark smile) So, you thought you could outrun me? Thomas, Thomas, Thomas! (Patrick dismounts, and kneels down, eye-level with Thomas. He takes out a pistol from his pocket, and points it at the young man. Thomas cries out in fear.)

Thomas: Please. Please, let me go.

Patrick: Let you go? Well, not with what you know now.

Thomas: I don’t know anything, I swear!

Patrick: Well, my fellow Anti-Federalist, Mr. Jefferson, told me that he saw you running from his house. Now, what would a Federalist like you be doing at Mr. Jefferson’s house? At this time of night? I doubt it was for a friendly visit.

Thomas: I didn’t hear a thing. I didn’t hear anything, I promise you!

Patrick: (cocking his pistol) Well, there’s only one way to be sure of that…

(QC to horse, as it tosses its head. A shot rings out, and the horse rears up and neighs. Patrick Henry gets to his feet and mounts his skittish animal. He rides off into the night)

(Back to the New York townhouse, only it is daytime now. The streets are full of carts and carriages, and the sidewalks are bustling with pedestrians. Inside the town house, Alexander Hamilton and John Jay have been joined by two other men--Charles Pinckney, the brother of the slain Thomas, and a South Carolinian congressman, and Timothy Pickering, the postmaster general. Charles is pacing angrily, his face flushed)

John: We know why we’re all here, I assume.

Charles: Because those inhuman monsters killed my brother!?

Alexander: They’ve killed many of us, and that’s part of it. A large part.

Timothy: Wait a moment, shouldn’t Adams be here?
Alexander: We couldn’t reach him in time. He’s back in Boston, visiting his wife. We could only get you guys because you were here, in New York.

Timothy: You nearly missed me…I was just passing through back to Connecticut.

Charles: (angrily) Look, can we get to the point!? How can I get back at those two devils, Jefferson and Henry?

John: In good time, Charles, in good time. But, there’s something much bigger, and much more frightening going on here than usual.

Charles: I don’t see what could be bigger than…killing…my brother!

Alexander: Look, we’ve ALL lost someone! These Anti-Federalists have to be stopped, but we can’t do it blindly…we have to be careful, and we have to be measured in our response.

(John stares at Alexander with a raised eyebrow. Alexander stares back evenly, but smiles just a bit. John puts his hands on his hips.)

John: That sounds awful familiar.

Alexander: You know I emulate you…anyway…there’s something else you men don’t know about yet. Something that…well…that Thomas found out. That was why he was killed.

Charles: What!?

John: We got in touch with Thomas’s servant, who went with him that night. He said…Thomas heard…Jefferson…talking to someone unfamiliar. They were discussing a plot to murder…(John trails off, unable to finish)

Timothy: (gravely) Murder who, John?

John: Washington. They want to kill Washington.

(Timothy and Charles stare at John in shock, their jaws dropped. Charles shakes his head slowly, unwilling to believe)

Charles: They wouldn’t! Not even Jefferson would dare!

Alexander: Jefferson would do anything to advance himself and his cause.

John: I know it’s hard to believe, but we must. It’s better to be prepared. We have to protect General Washington at all costs. If the Anti-Federalists kill him, nothing can stop them from taking over.

Timothy: (darkly) How can we stop them? We haven’t been able to so far. What can we possibly do?

Alexander: We’ve managed to find a group of people who may be able to help us. John and I have been able to connect them with who we think this ‘mysterious figure’, Jefferson’s friend, is.

Timothy: Who are they.

John: They’re from the future. In the year 1998, a cartoon was created by the Warner Brothers animation studio. Though it only ran for fifty-odd episodes, it was the best one they ever created. It was called Histeria!, and it was about a group of people who interviewed people from different eras.

Charles: How can we get to them?

Alexander: Well, we’ve managed to interrupt their episode schedule a bit. Seems they did an episode about the Constitution, which is close enough to this time period. They should be dropping in any moment now…

(Alexander is interrupted when many of the members of the H! casts literally ‘drops in’. There is a big cloud of dust, and when it finally clears, our favorite Histerians are lying in a messy heap in the middle of the townhouse floor. Alexander, John, Charles, and Timothy are plastered against the wall, looking in shock at the mass on the floor. Father Time manages to disentangle himself, and he looks around in confusion)

Father Time: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!?

Alexander: Are you the cast of Histeria! ?

Father Time: Maybe…why…and who are you? How did we get here?

John: Well, he’s Alexander Hamilton, I’m John Jay, that’s Timothy Pickering, and that’s Charles Pinckney.

Alexander: Hello.

Timothy: Hello.

Charles: What they said.

(Toast pulls himself out of the writhing tangle)

Toast: Whoa, Father Time dude, weren’t we, like, supposed to…like, do an episode with these dudes today?

(The other members to have been transported…Loud Kiddington, Chit Chatterson, Bill Straitman, Sammy Melman, the World’s Oldest Woman, Lucky Bob, Pepper Mills, Charity Bazaar, and Cho-Cho…manage to get to their feet as well. Sammy pulls a schedule out of his pocket)

Sammy: Actually, it says we’re supposed to be doing the ‘Music’ episode.

Loud: WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!?

John, Alexander, Timothy, & Charles: AAAAAH!

Charles: Jesus, what is wrong with that child!?

Charity: His name is Loud Kiddington. You figure it out.

John: Anyway…we brought you here.

WOW: Why? You better start explaining before I start to do some maiming, boy!

John: (a little afraid) Well, America is in danger, and we need your help because we think someone from your world has corrupted the Anti-Federalists into killing our fellow Federalists.

Bill: Someone from our world!?

Chit: No one from our world would be that evil, except…

Father Time: Are you guys thinking who I’m thinking…

Sammy: If you mean the guy who would love to destroy America, both its history and its present state, then yes.

Alexander: Can you tell us who it is?

(The Histerians! Look at each other gravely, then back at the Federalists.)

I have a bad feeling I know who's responsible for all of this. Geez, we must have use him many times! But he's always a popular villain. I won't say who, though! That's for you to figured out.

It's the Omenex!!!!

And they just begun their terror.

The villain JusSonic talked about is in this point of our timeline, dead, and the Omenex are in a whole other series than this, so they can't be responsible{sounds up their ally though}I imagine it's some made up guy by this Hamilton writer, but if it's anyone we created, it's not these two. And yes, JusSonic, the guy you mentioned is close to being overused, as I said before, I don't want him turning into a Freddy Kruger esq unkillable horror monster.

A little note...you're all wrong about the villian . It isn't someone I made up, and I don't know who JusSonic is referring to anyway, so...here's a bit more

(Scene: Tom Jefferson and James Madison are waiting inside Tom’s house. Tom is pacing anxiously, and James is looking at him, concerned.)

James: So you think they know?

Tom: Apparently! I didn’t see Pinckney’s servant…I didn’t even know he had one with him. Now he’s probably told Hamilton and Jay.

James: Well what can they do! I mean, we took care of Pinckney pretty easily…just like we took care of Gouvener Morris back during the ratification debates. These Federalists just don’t have the power to stand up to us.

Tom: We can’t take that attitude though. We can’t be too careful.

(Suddenly there’s a knock at the door. James frowns, but Tom answers it. James Monroe and Albert Gallatin are standing there, looking flushed and happy. Monroe is a young, strapping man, dressed in an elaborately embroidered vest and waistcoat. Albert is also young, but dressed less eloquently. He has a slight accent, as he only recently emigrated to the US from Switzerland. Even though, he has a seat in Congress)

Tom: Hello boys. What are you so excited about.

Albert: We just took out a Federalist newspaper office in Williamsburg! The last one left!

Monroe: Tom, Jemmy, you shoulda seen them run! That’ll show ‘em they can’t convince Virginians of anything.

Tom: (smiling with pride) Good show, boys, good show. And I’m glad you’re here, anyway. I have someone I would like all four of you to meet.

James: Who?

(The door opens again, and Tom and the others look up. It is the shadowed figure from before, only he’s not shadowed anymore. He is none other than Joseph Stalin, leader of communist Russia, and enemy of the United States. He looks different, though, from his portrayal on H!. His features aren’t as exaggerated and…well…made fun of, as on the show. He looks infinitely more evil.)

Stalin: I heard about the Pinckney episode.

Tom: I had no way of knowing his servant was present.

Stalin: Well then you should have someone guarding your house.

James: Tom, who is this man?

Stalin: I am Joseph Stalin. I lead the USSR during the Cold War, when the United States humiliated my country.

Monroe: He doesn’t exactly sound…helpful. He hates the US.

Stalin: No, I hated what the Federalists did to the US. I came back here to help you regain control, and make the US into a better land than it turns out to be.

James: Oh, I see. Well, pleased to meet you then. I’m James Madison.

Monroe: James Monroe

Albert: And I’m Albert Gallatin.

Stalin: (waving his hand, disinterested) Yes, yes, yes. Now, we must start working out a plan to kill General George Washington.

James: Whoa, wait a minute. Who ever said anything about killing Washington?! I mean, shooting some no-account Federalists is no big deal, but Washington?
Tom: We have to, James. He’s endangering Virginia. He’ll go along with Hamilton’s damned assumption plan, and Virginia will be sapped of all her power.

Monroe: I agree with Tom. Washington is a traitor to all that Virginia stands for!

Albert: But how could we ever manage to kill someone like him?

Stalin: I can arrange it, but before I do, we must have a gathering…all the Anti-Federalists of note must be present. If we are to take out Washington…along with his associates…

Tom: Namely that bastard son of a Scottish peddler Alexander Hamilton.

Stalin: (ignoring Tom) We must be very well organized. The Federalist scum will give their all to protect their leader.

Monroe: Well, Albert and I can arrange it with Anti-Federalists in Congress.

James: I can get the newspapers to print it.

Tom: We can arrange it, Stalin. We’d do anything to get back into power, and reclaim our right as the true revolutionaries and leaders of Virginia…and America!

(Laughter is heard from the five…only Stalin’s sounds much, much more angry and sinister. His eyes are veiled, but it’s obvious that he has something more going on here. Something the Anti-Federalists don’t know about, and something that could destroy not only the Federalists, but America as a whole)

(Scene: The NYC townhouse again. The Histerians! Have just finished explaining to the Federalists about their suspicions)

Alexander: So some Russian named Joseph Stalin is behind this?

Chit: Believe you me, he’s not just some Russian! This guy is real bad news.

Father Time: Chit’s right. When Stalin was in power in Russia, he killed hundreds of thousands of people in his bloody purges. He sent thousands of others to cruel work camps.

John: Well, obviously, he has some hidden agenda here!

Timothy: John’s right. Someone that evil wouldn’t go to all this trouble just to eradicate one American political party.

Loud: YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT!

(All the Federalists jump)

Alexander: Could you PLEASE do something about that!?

Father Time: We’ve been trying to do something about it for a while now.

Alexander: Yes…all right…anyway, we have reason to believe that Stalin and the Anti-Federalists are plotting to kill President Washington.

Bill: That would send America into chaos!

John: Exactly, and destroy American history as we know it.

Charles: Plus, you guys are forgetting that these monsters kill people! In cold blood! Just for having a different political belief!

Loud: THEY KILL PEOPLE!? THAT’S HORRIBLE!

Father Time: But how can we help? I don’t know what you expect us to do.

Alexander: You know the enemy. We don’t. We need your knowledge.

Sammy: But we don’t know all of the enemy. We only know Stalin. You guys know these Anti-Federalists better than we ever will.

Timothy: But if we can get to this Stalin character, than we can cut off the head of this operation.

Alexander: (impassioned, almost in tears) Yes! I know Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison, and a lot of the other Anti-Federalists. And before this, they weren’t violent people. If we can get rid of Stalin, them maybe we can fix our history, and maybe we can save our friends. Maybe we can save our country.

WOW: We have to have a few minutes to discuss this, if you guys don’t mind.

Timothy: No, of course not.

John: Come on, men, let’s get a breath of fresh air.

Alexander: All right.

Charles: One more thing, before you decide…they killed my brother. My brother. I’m in this whether you are or not.

(Alexander, Charles, Timothy, and John leave the room)

Father Time: Well, what do you guys think.

Charity: This killing of people makes me supremely not happy. And we’ve had problems with Stalin many times before.

Sammy: Yeah…maybe this time we can get rid of him once and for all.

Chit: But this could cost us our lives!

Loud: BUT IF WE DON’T DO THIS, AMERICA, AS A NATION, COULD BE DESTROYED FOREVER! WHO KNOWS HOW THAT COULD AFFECT HISTORY?
WOW: (putting her finger in her ear to try and clear her hearing) Loud’s right…albeit he expressed it a little…deafeningly…this could have far reaching consequences.

Toast: Dude, you know, I don’t like these dudes, especially Stalin. I don’t know about the rest of you, but, I’m like, so totally in.

Father Time: Strangely, I have to agree with Toast…for once.

Toast: (amazed) Who-o-oaaa…

Father Time: It’s not going to be a regular occurrence, so don’t get used to it.

Toast: Like…ok.

Father Time: Well what about the rest of you?

Charity: I’m in.

WOW: Could ya be more enthusiastic about it, honey.

Charity: Actually…no.

WOW: Whatever. Anyway, I’m in too.

Loud: SO AM I!

Sammy: I guess I gotta go with them

Bill: Me too.

(Everyone turns to Chit in unison. He looks a little pale, and he pulls on his collar. Father Time puts his hands on his hips, and WOW raises an eyebrow. Charity, Sammy, Bill, and Loud cross their arms expectantly. Chit rolls his eyes, then throws up his hands.)

Chit: All right, all right, I’m in. I figure if I say no, you’ll all lynch me or something.

WOW: (taking out a noose) You can bet your sweet…

Father Time: Watch it!

WOW: Aaah, stuff it.

(Scene: A man is pacing in a small room in an Inn, just outside of Philadelphia. He is of medium-height, with thinning brown hair, piercing green eyes, and an almost hawk-like profile. His name is Aaron Burr. Suddenly, the door swings open, and Stalin walks in.)

Stalin: I suppose you know why I have come?

Aaron: What other reason could there be?

Stalin: Do not talk to me in that tone. I could destroy you.
Aaron: And show your true colors to your allies? I don’t think you would, not yet. Remember, Stalin, I know what you really want. Which puts me in a good position, and you in a bad one. You may be able to have that attitude with Jefferson, Madison, Henry and the others, but not with me.

Stalin: Moving monologue, Burr, but if you don’t want to be destroyed along with the others, I would suggest you refrain from any more.

Aaron: Very well. Anyway, what’s the plan now?

Stalin: To kill Washington.

Aaron: Finally some real action!

Stalin: But there’s something else I want you to do.

Aaron: What? I hope it has to do with killing…

Stalin: Of course it does. I need you to go to New York City and get rid of Alexander Hamilton. John Jay too, if you can manage it, but Alexander Hamilton is your main target.

Aaron: That’s my kind of assignment!

Stalin: You’re almost as despicable as I am.

Aaron: Just remember our deal, Comrade.

Stalin: Joseph Stalin does not forget those who help him…now go. And take care of Hamilton.

Aaron: Yes sir. (salutes sharply, and watches Stalin walk out. A bright, devious smile slowly forms on his thin, colorless lips, and he goes to his nightstand, picking up the large, smooth-bore pistol from the top.)

(Scene: The NYC townhouse. The Histerians! And the Federalists again. Only this time there’s a new face among them…a rotund, short man, with grey hair and dancing eyes. His name is Vice President John Adams.)

John: We’re so glad you could make it in time, Mr. Adams.

Adams: Well, it’s still relatively safe in New England…for Federalists I mean… anyway…oh yes…who are they? (motions to the Histerians! With a confused expression)

Alexander: Our new Allies.

Timothy: They’re going to help us stop Tom Jefferson and his Anti-Federalists.

Father Time: Yeah…we’re cartoon characters.

WOW: Wanna make something of it, fatty!?

Adams: (Still confused, but not persisting.) They’re the ones who are going to help us? How? Why them?

Father Time: Well, because, the man responsible for turning the Anti-Federalists evil is someone we know personally.

Chit: Unfortunately.

Adams: Who is it?

Sammy: His name is Joseph Stalin. He’s a pretty evil man.

Adams: But why would he want to destroy America.

Alexander: Well, according to what they told us, this Stalin fellow hates America with a passion.

Charles: Though that still doesn’t explain why he would support the Anti-Federalist.

Toast: Who knows. But like, enough of this boring…talking…stuff. Like, when are we gonna kick some Commie butt?

(Everyone looks at him with raised eyebrows.)

Toast: Well, like…never mind.

John: Yes…well, then…we need to go to Philadelphia. That’s where Washington is. We need to warn and protect him, and we need to meet up with this Stalin character…and stop him.

Alexander: We can leave tomorrow, first thing in the morning.

Charles: Let’s hope it’s not too late.

Sammy: This is starting to sound quite…er…life-threatening. How many people have these Anti-Federalists killed, exactly?

Alexander: We don’t know exactly.

John: Ever since the ratification of the Constitution, they’ve been killing newspaper owners who support the Federalists, not to mention politicians, who are Federalists.

Charles: Like my brother.

Alexander: Like my good friend.

Charity: Why aren’t they stopped? I mean, why doesn’t anyone do something about it.

John: We’ve tried, but we can’t stop all of them.
WOW: Well I’m ready to kick some dissenting…

Father Time: Watch it…

WOW: I KNOW! JEEZE!

Loud: WELL WE ALL GET YOUR POINT. WE ALL WANT TO STOP THEM AND STALIN!

John: All right, this is getting slightly irritating.

Charity: Welcome to our lives.

Alexander: Anyway, we should get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.

(They all agree, and Alexander shows the Histerians to a few rooms they can use. Timothy and Charles leave for the Inn they are staying at in town, and John Jay goes to fix up a room for John Adams. Alexander walks out, same time as John. The two stare at each other for a moment.)

John: Do you think we have a chance?

Alexander: I cannot believe anything else.

John: No…I don’t suppose we would benefit, eh? Well, I suppose I’ll be turning in as well. Are you coming to bed?

Alexander: Not yet. I’ll see you tomorrow, John.

John: Alex…are you all right (John notices a piece of paper sticking out of Alexander’s pocket. Alexander follows his eyes, and takes it out. It’s the cover of a book…’The Federalist’. John’s eyes cloud with pain) Madison…God, it’s so hard to think of him as a traitor. He is such a talented man.

Alexander: I know you said he switched because he was a Virginian. But I cannot help but think it was something I did…

John: Don’t think that. Tom Jefferson has a hold on that man. He always had. When this is all over, maybe he’ll come back.

Alexander: I wish the others could come back.

(John sighs painfully, and puts a comforting hand on Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander smiles weakly, but walks towards the window. John shakes his head sadly, and walks into his bedroom. Alexander presses his hands against the glass, and watches the starlit night, looking as if he wants to say something, but not knowing what, or who he even wants to say it to.)

(Scene: Aaron Burr steps out of his coach into the New York City night. He puts his hand to the pistol, in his pocket. He smiles.)

Aaron: Finally…I get to do what Jefferson never could…kill that illegitimate brat.

(Aaron quickly darts down the sidewalk, intent on getting to the house. He finally reaches the townhouse, and stares up at it, in anticipation so strong he’s actually shaking. He smiles wider, and walks around back of the house. The back door is locked, so he searches for an open window. There is one on the second floor, conveniently, for him at least, right by a drain pipe. Aaron starts to carefully climb up, and eventually reaches the window. He softly lowers himself inside. It is Alexander’s room, but Alexander is still outside, by the front window. Aaron pushes the door open and silently and carefully looks out into the living room. Alexander has fallen asleep at his desk, his head resting on the cover of the ‘Federalist’ he had showed to John. Aaron smirks darkly, and pulls the pistol out of his pocket, cocking it softly. Alexander stirs, and Aaron waits, tensely. After a moment, Alexander sighs fitfully in his sleep, and turns his head away from Aaron. Whistling a bit in relief, Aaron walks closer, and presses the gun to Alexander’s head.)

Aaron: I am going to enjoy this…