writing prompt: the political climate of [your choice of historical period] expressed in the form of office drama

[Interior - an anachronistic office building, equal parts The Name of The Rose and Parks and Rec. Holy Roman Emperor MAXIMILIAN I is in the background, listening to a PETITIONER. Court musicians nearby are playing something soothing as MAXIMILIAN I visibly tries not to lose his shit.

In the foreground, several people are seated around a table. The table is piled high with semi-organized stacks of papers, labeled “Habsburgs,” “Denmark,” and “???” There is a tired-looking COURT LAWYER who is skimming through a document, seated across from a Fancy-Lad DUCAL ENVOY and an old, gray-bearded, Prussian-looking MARGRAVE, who is half-asleep. The COURT LAWYER skims over a few pages in tense, frustrated silence before finally speaking.]

COURT LAWYER: So King Christian I is his own vassal?

[Cut to the COURT LAWYER doing that talking-to-the-camera-like-The-Office thing, because I have never written a TV script before and am fuzzy on the terminology.]

COURT LAWYER: The Holstien case… is hell. The cadet branches just pop up like… like pimples! One minute it’s Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Beck, then it’s Schleswig-Holstein-Sonderburg-Glücksburg, then—

[Snap cut back to the table, making it clear the COURT LAWYER could have gone on for hours. The DUCAL ENVOY gestures to a document and starts to explain.]

DUCAL ENVOY: That, ah, that’s from a different case. You see, our illustrious house was rewarded for our service against the Ottomans during the Siege of Thessalonica.

[The MARGRAVE snaps awake.]

MARGRAVE: The Ottomans? Where? Drive back the Turk! Get me the garrison commander! Murm, and a stuffed pastry or two…

[Everyone ignores the MARGRAVE, who falls back asleep after a few more rambles.]

COURT LAWYER: Wasn’t the Siege of Thessalonica a total failure and humiliating defeat on our end?

[The DUCAL ENVOY makes a “yeah, but I’m gonna get mine” gesture. The camera tilts to zoom in on MAXIMILIAN I, who pauses to give a you-are-the-first-to-die-in-my-fantasies glare at the DUCAL ENVOY, then puts his normal expression back on and resumes listening to the PETITIONER.]

[The COURT LAWYER sets the document aside and picks up another one, then winces.]

COURT LAWYER: For god’s sake, Schleswig-Holstein-Liga?

DUCAL ENVOY: I think that one’s just a soccer league, actually.

[The PETITIONER leaves. MAXIMILIAN I signals to the court musicians to stop playing. Suddenly, there is a sense silence. MAXIMILIAN I stands up, takes a deep breath, and screams.]

MAXIMILAN I: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[He pauses to breathe in again, then starts to storm offscreen, shouting.]

MAXIMILIAN I: *offscreen* If you rat bastards are going to wave forged documents in my face, at least have the goddamn decency to put in a little effort! The Habsburgs wrote the book on forgeries! Don’t TREAT ME LIKE A CHUMP!

RANDOM RETAINER: The, uh, the emperor will not be seeing any more petitioners today.

[The DUCAL ENVOY stands up and, taking his cue to leave, scoots away, opposite the direction the emperor left.]

[Cut to MAXIMILIAN I doing the talking-to-camera thing. Time has clearly passed, and servants are busy cleaning up rage-smashed furniture.]

MAXIMILIAN I: How come everyone who’s on my side sucks? The dukes, the electors, the rich territories, they’re always busy scheming and trying to fuck me over. But an abbey full of old nuns? Oh, we’re on your side, emperor! Anything you want, emperor! Here, here’s a pair of old sandles, that’ll keep the French from conquering Naples!

MAXIMILIAN I: *heavy, wistful sigh* I bet the Sultan doesn’t have to deal with shit like this. I wish I could be like that… with a harem of women, and not having to take any sass from anyone… this is getting edited out, right?

[Snap cut to interior – Topkapi Palace. Ottoman Sultan BAYEZID II is trying not to look guilty as his mother, GÜLBAHAR HATUN, lectures him.]

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: It’s been months, sweetie. Months!

BAYEZID II: *trying not to get snippy* I know, mother, but things have been crazy at work lately, and—

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: That’s what you say every time! I know you’re the head of the House of Osman, but you’re still my little boy too.

BAYEZID II: I’m sorry, it’s just, I’ve been on campaign, mom. I can’t just drop everything and come visit whenever I want. If we don’t control the Peloponnese, how are we going to have enough naval power to compete with the Venetians?

GÜLBAHAR HATUN: *crossing her arms* You care more about those Venetians than your own mother! The woman who gave birth to you!

[In the background, a HAREM LADY scoots by, trying not to be noticed, dressed in expensive but modest clothing. Cut to her doing the talking-to-camera thing.]

HAREM LADY: Look, I don’t know what those horny Austrians told you I did, but I just copy poetry, alright?

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Postscripts:

This was delayed because it started with me going “Schleswig-Holstein? That is a funny name, I’m going to use that for this ask, because it is funny” only to find out that it has been involved in insanely complicated legal disputes for basically eight hundred years. I decided to get around the issue by not dealing with it.

Wiki-ing told me that Gülbar Hatun did, in fact, send letters to Bayezid II complaining that he was always too busy emperor-ing to visit her.

I spent too much time and attention at first trying to get the date-overlap right with things but stopped caring after a bit because it was against the spirit of prompts