Characters:
Oliver Eisenberg: (formerly known as Honkers the Clown) Worked as clown at Hoffharlow Circus for the past 18 years.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Ringmaster of Hoffharlow Circus; plans to take over the circus staff and then the world
Mr. Wiggles: Oliver’s ex-partner; co-conspirator of Ringmaster Ronnie
Allen Donney: Soup kitchen worker; befriends Oliver
Connie Besden: (also known as Sparky the Clown) Works at Hoffharlow Circus; Oliver’s best friend at the circus
Captain Hammel: Captain of the local police force
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Scene One: Hoffharlow Circus Administration Building - Ringmaster Ronnie’s Office
(Oliver is waiting nervously for Ringmaster Ronnie to arrive. Black curtains shield all of the windows in the medium-sized office, creating an ominous atmosphere.)
(Enter Ringmaster Ronnie)
Ringmaster Ronnie: (in a smug, condescending tone) Ah, Honkers. I can see that you received my message.
Oliver: (uncomfortably) Yeah, Wiggles told me. Is there a problem sir?
Ringmaster Ronnie: Yes Honkers, unfortunately there is a problem. (Ringmaster Ronnie pulls out an unmarked video tape and smacks it down unto his desk loudly) We have video footage of you feeding Lucinda, our prize elephant, a large quantity of chocolate. (Ringmaster Ronnie clicks his tongue disapprovingly)
Oliver: (In a confused tone) Oh. (Pauses briefly) Is that all?
Ringmaster Ronnie: Is that all Honkers? Is that all? I don’t think you comprehend the serious consequences your foolish actions could have caused.
Oliver: I was just trying to help sir. Lucinda looked like she was having a bad day, so I let her have half of my Mars bar. Besides, I didn’t know elephants were allergic to chocolate.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Most elephants aren’t Honkers. But our Lucinda, well, she’s a very special elephant. (Ringmaster Ronnie pats his heart several times for emphasis)
Oliver: I understand now sir and I am extremely sorry. Maybe I should go apologize to Lucinda now. (Oliver begins to get out of his chair)
Ringmaster Ronnie: We are not done here Honkers. As I was saying before, your imprudence could have cost the circus thousands of dollars. Elephants are quite expensive these days. I’m afraid I can no longer tolerate your antics here at Hoffharlow.
Oliver: Excuse me sir?
Ringmaster Ronnie: Don’t get me wrong, you were a great clown. And if I recall correctly, you were here with us when Hoffharlow was first founded. (Begins counting his short stubby fingers but then gives up) Eighteen years now is it? Time really does fly. I know Wiggles is really going to hate replacing you.
Oliver: (meekly) I’m…fired?
Ringmaster Ronnie: (looks up at Oliver incredulously) Yes, Honkers, that is what this entire conversation has been about. You have about the attention span of a five year-old. No wonder I’m canning you.
(Oliver stares at Ringmaster Ronnie, speechless)
Ringmaster Ronnie: By the way, I’ll expect your clown suit in my office first thing tomorrow morning. Ironed. And don’t forget the nose.
Oliver: (timidly) Ringma - … err.. Ronnie, I…err…before I leave, I thought you might like to know that a lot of the staff have been acting weird lately.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (in a nervous, high-pitched voice) Oh? How so?
Oliver: I can’t really put my finger on it. No one has been acting like themselves. Actually they all kind of act the same. Sparky, she doesn’t even -
Ringmaster Ronnie: (cutting Oliver off) What an interesting observation Honkers. However, I am sure it is nothing. You know the saying, ‘clowns will be clowns’! (Ringmaster Ronnie chuckles nervously) Remember, I want that clown suit on my desk first thing tomorrow morning.
Scene Two: The basement of Hoffharlow Circus Administration Building
(The basement is scattered with old circus relics and outdated funhouse mirrors. Ringmaster Ronnie and Mr. Wiggles are seated around an old table adorned with a giant map of the world containing a large ‘X’ over the state of Montana. The two seem to be having a heated conversation.)
Ringmaster Ronnie: He knows too much Wiggles. We have to get rid of him before he uncovers our master plan!
Wiggles: Get rid of him? You already fired him; he is no longer a threat.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (Bangs fist on the table) Yes, and I am trying to tell you that he is on to us. He noticed the staff was acting strangely. He is a threat.
Wiggles: (rubs his red clown nose apprehensively) I still don’t get it. Why didn’t the Super Juice work on him? If it had we wouldn’t have this problem.
Ringmaster Ronnie: It’s those blasted Mars bars. He eats them every day. Something in those candy bars counteracted the Super Juice.
Wiggles: Darn them! (As an afterthought) Well regardless, we have more urgent matters now. Phase II is almost complete. If everything continues accordingly, we can start selling Super Juice to the public very soon. Then, once the American masses are under our control, we can move on to the rest of North America.
Ringmaster Ronnie: I don’t understand how Honkers’s knowledge of our plans is not (making quote signs with his fingers) ‘urgent.’ He could put our entire plan in jeopardy. Everything we have worked for all these years. All that Super Juice!
Wiggles: Ronald! Please just let me do my job. You and I, we are certainly partners, but we each have our own special talents. You make that delectable Super Juice of yours, and I make all the intelligent decisions. (soothingly) Trust me, Honkers is not a problem.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Yes, I suppose you are right.
Wiggles: Besides, even if he did uncover our plan, how could he possibly stop us? The entire circus is already under our control.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Yes, and circus folk do make excellent fighters. They are bred for strength and agility you know. I read that somewhere.
Wiggles: (in agreement) These past 18 years we have worked hard grooming them into the perfect army. Things are turning out very well. (Wiggles darkens the ‘X’ over Montana with clown makeup and cackles evilly)
Ringmaster Ronnie: (slightly hurt) You say that like you expected otherwise.
Wiggles: Well Ronald, I have to admit, when you first approached me with the idea, I was a little skeptical that a drink was capable of mind-control.
Ringmaster Ronnie: That was the genius of my plan. Once they taste just one sip of the delicious, irresistible flavor, they are forever hooked and under our control. (proudly) I grow the secret ingredient right here in this basement.
Wiggles: (looking slightly unsettled) So this mold thing has been a hobby of yours for a while then?
Ringmaster Ronnie: Since grade school m’boy.
Scene Three: Local Soup Kitchen
(Oliver, who has lived on the streets the past three days, is being served by Allen Donney, a young man in his mid-twenties.)
Oliver: (looks uneasily at the lumpy brown soup being served to him) Hey you guys don’t happen to have any chocolate here do you?
Allen: (slightly amused) Sorry sir. Here at the Soup Kitchen we have limited resources. Besides, chocolate is not exactly the best source of nourishment.
Oliver: (desperately) Well then can I borrow a dollar?
Allen: (skeptically) Borrow a dollar?
Oliver: Come on man, I really need this! I’m desperate.
Allen: Is this really for chocolate, or for some kind of habit?
Oliver: (sheepishly) Both I guess.
Allen: Well I won’t support your drug addiction. I suggest you get yourself help.
Oliver: (surprised) What? Oh, I think you misunderstood me. It’s Mars bars.
Allen: What about them?
Oliver: They are my habit. I have had one every day of my life since I was five. But since I’ve been living on the street and deprived of them, I can’t sleep or even eat.
Allen: Hmm… still sounds like withdrawal symptoms to me. You know, what drugs cause. (glances Oliver over) What happened to you anyways?
Oliver: (blushing from embarrassment) I got kicked out of the circus. But I’d rather not talk about it.
Allen: Well that is certainly one I have never heard before. Must have been rough.
Oliver: Yeah, I guess. (long silence)
Allen: (glancing at the long line of people behind Oliver waiting to be served) Hey, my shift is ending ten minutes. What do you think about hanging around and then I’ll take you out to a real lunch. And I’ll even get you a Mars bar.
Oliver: I thought you wouldn’t support ‘my habit’.
Allen: Well I’ve changed my mind. (slowly)Yes or no?
Oliver: Yes.
Scene Four: Kung Fu Pagoda – a small Chinese restaurant
(Allen and Oliver share a comfortable booth located in the back corner of the tiny restaurant.)
Allen: So what made you join the circus anyways?
Oliver: I was fifteen and I hated my parents. They were never home. Plus, I was flunking out of school. Everything seemed like it was crashing down around me. I know its kind of a cliché these days, but running off to join the circus seemed like a great idea at the time.
Allen: Eighteen years in a circus. That’s enough to mess anyone up for life.
Oliver: (smiling) That’s what my parents said. Anyways, it may seem hard to believe, but everyone there was completely normal. They became my family.
Allen: Was normal?
Oliver: Yeah, everyone started acted really weird these past couple of months. They lost all of their personality. No one told jokes anymore. My friend Sparky, (Allen raises and eyebrow) well Connie, that’s her real name, I noticed it in her first.
Allen: (confused) What do you mean they lost their personality. People don’t just lose their personality.
Oliver: They were kind of like zombies. They didn’t really talk unless they were asked a direct question. It happened to everyone except me and my stunt partner Wiggles. It even affected the animals. In a bizarre way, that is what led to my dismissal.
Allen: The animals acting strangely led to you getting fired?
Oliver: Not exactly. One of our elephants, Lucinda, wasn’t being herself. I thought she might be having a bad day, so I gave her half of my Mars bar. I guess she was allergic to chocolate.
Allen: What? Elephants aren’t allergic to chocolate.
Oliver: That’s what I thought. Apparently, according to the ringmaster, Lucinda is a very special elephant.
Allen: Your ringmaster told you that? He sounds like a clever person.
Oliver: He is kind of a weird guy. I always had this feeling that he was up to something.
Allen: All of this sounds really shady to me. I think we should go to this circus and do some investigating on our own.
Oliver: I can’t go back there! I was fired! Everyone will laugh at me.
Allen: Now the clown doesn’t want to be laughed out.
Oliver: You know what I mean. It’s embarrassing.
Allen: You admitted yourself that something wasn’t right about that place. Do you care about your friends? Do you care about that Sparky girl? The only we can figure out what is wrong with them is to go to that circus ourselves. Besides, we are going to be secretive about it. If all goes well no one will even see us.
Oliver: (hesitantly) Okay, but only if we are extremely careful.
Allen: (claps Oliver on the back) That’s the spirit!
Scene Five: Hoffharlow Administration Building
(Oliver and Allen enter the building silently through a back door)
Allen: So where are we exactly? I don’t see a giant circus tent anywhere.
Oliver: Did you see those houses outside? (Allen nods) When we are not touring, the members of the circus live here. And this is the administration building. Ringmaster Ronnie lives here, so I figured that if we were going to find anything, it would be here.
Allen: Let’s check out the basement then. That’s always where the bad guys make their secret lair.
Oliver: Well, I was going to say Ronnie’s office, but he is probably still up there anyways, so I don’t see why not.
Scene Six: the basement of Hoffharlow Circus Administration Building
(Oliver and Allen begin to search the basement for anything suspicious)
Allen: Hey Oliver, I think I found something! (Allen leads Oliver over to a shaded corner of the basement. It is covered with a glowing mass of neon purple fungi.)
Oliver: What is that stuff?
Allen: (wrinkles nose) I don’t know, but it smells like my grandmother’s house.
Oliver: It kind of looks like fungi. Purple fungi. We’ll have to – (Oliver stops mid-sentence. Voices can be heard up stairs) (quietly) We better hide.
(Oliver and Allen quickly hide in the room’s opposite corner. They are shielded by and old chestnut wardrobe. Ringmaster Ronnie and Wiggles come bounding down the stairs.)
Wiggles: It takes a special kind of stupid to single handedly delay our plans for at least a month, and you Ronnie, are that kind of stupid.
Ringmaster Ronnie: I’m sorry Wiggles. I try, honestly I do. Anyone could have made that mistake.
Wiggles: (pulls off his nose and squeaks it menacingly in his hand) Yes Ronnie, anyone could have destroyed two thousand bottles of Super Juice. Now we have to harvest more fungi and create more juice and package more bottles before we can market it to the American public. That is at least another month now before I can take over the country.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (pleadingly) What if we didn’t have to harvest any more fungi? What if we made the circus folk do it? They are under our control after all. We’d probably only lose a couple of weeks.
Wiggles: (short pause) Yes, I suppose that could work. You’ve redeemed yourself Ronald. Now collect some fungi and I’ll summon the circus folk into the harvesting room.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (timidly) Oh, and Wiggles.
Wiggles: (sharply) What, Ronald?
Ringmaster Ronnie: What are we going to do about the Mars bars?
Wiggles: They must be destroyed Ronald. (eyes narrow) All of them.
(Wiggles and Ringmaster Ronnie exit up the stairs, arms full of fungi.)
(Allen and Oliver appear slowly from behind the wardrobe)
Allen: Whoa. This is what happens when you combine heavy LSD use with repeated viewings of Pinky and the Brain. Did you know about this Super Juice stuff?
Oliver: Yeah, a couple months ago Ronnie started handing it out like Happy Meals. He said it was some expensive imported European stuff.
Allen: Yes, Super Juice. How European sounding.
Oliver: I cannot believe Wiggles was in cahoots with Ronnie. My own stunt partner and I didn’t notice.
Allen: Which one was Wiggles? The fat one or the one who looks like the candy cane guy from Candy Land?
Oliver: Candy cane guy.
Allen: And they took over the circus with this Super Juice, and now they are trying to take over the world.
Oliver: I should have realized that this was what they were using to control everyone. The timing matches perfectly.
Allen: I still have one question: Why weren’t you affected by it?
Oliver: Didn’t you hear what they were saying? They want to destroy all the Mars bars. The candy must have protected me from the Super Juice’s effects. (Oliver pulls a Mars bar out of his pocket) We can use this to save Connie and the others.
(Oliver and Allen race up the steps and follow Ringmaster Ronnie to the harvesting room)
Scene Seven: A large room in the Hoffharlow Administration building known as ‘the harvesting room.’
(Inside the room, roughly 100 members of the Hoffharlow Circus are at work harvesting the purple fungi.)
Allen: (peeks his head into the room) These are circus people? They look like normal people to me.
Oliver: First of all, circus folk is the politically correct term. Secondly, I know this may seem hard for you to believe, but we ‘circus people’ don’t strut around all day in our uniforms. We only wear them when we are performing.
Allen: Alright, no need to get offended. (points finger into the room) So which one of them is Connie? We might as well save her first.
Oliver: There she is in the back corner.
Allen: Well, what are you waiting for? Go get her.
Oliver: Alright, but I know I’m going to get caught. (Oliver sneaks into the room. He grabs Connie by the arm and awkwardly pulls her outside. Surprisingly not one member of the circus notices or even looks up from their work.)
Allen: Nice work Bond. You’re lucky they were all too phased to notice how clumsy you were. Whatever that Wiggles guy has got them on must be some strong stuff. (Allen notices Connie for the first time) Wow, so this is Connie? She’s pretty cute for a clown.
Oliver: (rolls his eyes) Yeah, well, just help me feed her this Mars bar. She keeps trying to get back into that room.
(Allen holds Connie, who begins kicking violently)
Connie: (in a mechanical voice) Super Juice! Super Juice! Super Juice!
(Allen finally manages to hold Connie still while Oliver forces the Mars bar down her throat)
(Connie coughs several times)
Oliver: Connie, are you okay?
Connie: (confused) I think. Oliver what’s going on? I don’t feel very well.
Oliver: This is going to sound really bizarre Connie, but do you remember that Super Juice that Ronnie kept making us drink? (Connie nods) Well he and Wiggles were using it to control the members of the circus. He had you in there (Oliver points inside the harvesting room) harvesting this purple fungi with the others. Now Ronnie and Wiggles plan on taking over the world.
Connie: (bewildered) Ringmaster Ronnie and Wiggles? (thoughtfully) So that’s why those two were always running off together. How did you free me from that stuff anyways?
Oliver: I made you eat a Mars bar. Something about the chocolate counteracts the Super Juice.
Connie: You force-fed me one of those nasty candy bars? You know I hate those!
Oliver: You say it like I was running over kittens on the highway. Besides it was for your own good.
Allen: (speaking for the first time) I told him he shouldn’t feed you it if you didn’t want it. Are you okay? Did he puncture your esophagus or something?
Connie: (looking at Allen curiously) Who’s this guy?
Oliver: I met him at a soup kitchen. He was my server.
Allen: Giving back to the community is very important to me.
Connie: (ignoring Allen) Why were you at a soup kitchen?
Oliver: I got fired. Don’t you remember?
Connie: To tell you the truth, I don’t remember much at all from these past two months. Must have been the juice. (face lights up in excitement) I just thought of an idea to bring down Ringmaster Ronnie and Wiggles, but I have to check up on something first. I’ll meet you guys at my house in a half hour.
Scene Eight: Connie’s House
Oliver: (on his hands and knees searching around a potted plant) I know the key is around here somewhere.
Allen: You know where the key to her house is?
Oliver: We have been friends for twelve years. Don’t worry, we’re not dating or anything.
Allen: Oh. Was it that obvious I liked her?
Oliver: (continues searching for the key) No, I guess not.
Allen: If it was obvious, just tell me. I was trying to be subtle. But if I wasn’t, I want to know.
Oliver: I’m telling you that you weren’t obvious, okay?
Allen: You’re lying.
Oliver: Fine. You were going after her like the last turkey leg at Thanksgiving dinner. Now leave me alone so I can find the key.
(Oliver finally finds the key. He and Allen enter into the house and wait for Connie’s return)
(Connie enters the house)
Oliver: (tapping his watch) Connie, it’s 6:47. You’re twelve minutes late.
Connie: Thanks Big Ben. When I said a half-hour I didn’t realize you would be counting.
(Oliver rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds like “someone’s irritable” under his breath)
Allen: So what’s the plan boss?
Connie: Okay, remember when I said that I trouble recalling anything from these past two months. (Oliver raises his eyebrows and Allen nods enthusiastically) Well, one of the last things I did remember was that Ringmaster Ronnie finally bought a computer. I figured that if we were going to find out anything to help us it would be on there. So I hacked onto his computer and I found a detailed day planner. Tonight they are planning on moving a large amount of their Super Juice to a warehouse in Denver Colorado. Apparently they want a base on the west coast.
Oliver: Right, so tonight would be the perfect opportunity to catch them off guard.
Connie: And that’s not all I found. Ringmaster Ronnie has one of those online journals.
Allen: No way! That old guy? I thought only teenagers wrote in those things.
Connie: Yeah, I know. The whole thing was about how he was sick of Wiggles pushing him around. Anyways, he’s planning on double-crossing Wiggles.
Oliver: What does any of this have to do with the plan though?
Connie: You’ll see in a minute. Allen, can you do something for me?
Allen: (dreamily)Yeah, anything.
Connie: Okay, go to the nearest supermarket and buy a couple hundred Mars bars. Then go free the rest of circus and meet us down in the basement.
Allen: No problem. I’ll go as fast as I can. Are king-size Mars bars acceptable?
Connie: Allen, just go.
(Allen leaves)
Connie: Oliver, we’ve got work to do.
Scene Nine: The basement of Hoffharlow Circus Administration Building
Wiggles: Just a few more bottles to load up on the truck and then I can practically check off number 8 on my list of things to do before I turn forty.
Ringmaster Ronnie: What’s that?
Wiggles: To take over the world. I’ve showed you that list ages ago. I can’t believe you don’t remember.
Ringmaster Ronnie: No, what’s that over there in the corner. (points to the chestnut wardrobe where Connie’s foot is clearly visible)
(Ringmaster Ronnie drags Oliver and Connie out sits them down in front of Wiggles)
Ringmaster Ronnie: I told you he was on to us.
Wiggles: Shut up Ronald. (turning to face Oliver and Connie) Well. Well. Well. I see by the fact that you have released Sparky, that you discovered the little flaw with this idiot’s juice. No matter, I’ll just dispose of both of you.
Oliver: It doesn’t matter that you’ve found us Wiggles. We have the whole thing on tape (dangles it in front of Wiggles face) and we’re turning it in to the police.
Wiggles: Right. I’ll just take that. (grabs tape out of Oliver’s hands and looks it over) This isn’t even a blank tape. Nice try.
Oliver: Yeah it is. We taped over whatever was on it.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (reaching over for the tape) Hey that’s my yoga tape!
Wiggles: Shut up you fat imbecile. I’m dealing with our problem here. (Deep in thought, Wiggles paces back and forth in front of the Connie and Oliver rapidly. Occasionally he rubs his clown nose in concentration.) I guess we could just make them Super Juice test subjects. Or maybe we could just leave them in the local Mars Bar factory. We were planning on blowing it up anyways.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Maybe we should just let them go. All the super cool bad guys in movies have an arch-enemy. It’s half the fun!
Wiggles: Ronald, everything you just said is completely and utterly stupid. This isn’t a movie and our enemies here aren’t going to play into your deluded fantasies of cops and robbers. They are going to turn us in.
Connie: Maybe we’re not your real enemy Wiggles.
Wiggles: What’s that supposed to mean?
Connie: Your partner over there (points to a cowering Ringmaster Ronnie) wrote this on his online journal.
Wiggles: (to Ringmaster Ronnie) You have one of those? (snatches the paper out of Connie’s hands and reads aloud) Dear Diary, Wiggles is so mean. Every day he yells at me and calls me stupid. Sometimes I get the feeling that he doesn’t like me at all. It’s just like high school all over again. I’m sick and tired of him pushing me around all the time. After all, I’m the one who discovered the Super Juice. I should get credit. Maybe tonight I’ll get him to drink a special batch of Super Juice and he’ll be under my control. (to Ringmaster Ronnie) So that was what that wine bottle was all about. It wasn’t a present, it was an attempt to stab me in the back!
Ringmaster Ronnie: (squirming) Listen to me Wiggles, it was nothing. You know how people write things in the heat of the moment.
Wiggles: No Ronald, I don’t! I thought we were friends! I told you things: my hopes, dreams, and aspirations. I can’t believe you would –
(Wiggles is cut off by a storm of people entering the room: a dozen cops and around 100 angry circus folk, led by Allen)
Captain Hammel: Ronald Dougall and Nancy Sullivan, you are under arrest for the high treason against your country.
Oliver: Wiggles’s real name is Nancy?
Allen: No wonder he was so messed up.
Ringmaster Ronnie: (whimpering) It was him officer! He coerced me and controlled me with my own juice. I tried to fight him I really did!
Wiggles: Not true officer. Do you see the way he lies? He’s a psychopath! He’s been growing this mold for years. Then he threatened my life if I didn’t help him.
Captain Hammel: (grabs tape out of Wiggles’s hands) We’ll clear this up at the station boys. After I watch this videotape I’m sure it will clear both of your names.
Ringmaster Ronnie: Never! You’ll never catch me. (Ronnie begins to run towards the back-entrance of the building but is attacked my Susie the Acrobat, who looks quite unhappy.)
Captain Hammel: They always run.
(Captain Hammel escorts Ringmaster Ronnie and Wiggles outside into a waiting police car)
Wiggles: (from outside) This is all your fault Ronald!
(Wiggles and Ronnie can be heard fighting in the distance as the scene shifts back to Connie, Allen, and Oliver.)
Connie: (to Allen) You really saved us there Allen. I didn’t even think about calling the police. I thought the angry mob of circus folk would do them in for sure.
Allen: (blushing) Well, I try.
Oliver: Come on you two, we had better get out of here. We’ll probably have to make some kind of statement to the police down at the station. Besides, this basement really does smell.
The End
Friday, November 7, 2008
A Second Letter to Qwendy
Dearest Coach:
Its been a while since our last letter, hasn’t it? And actually you’ve been much better lately. Maybe you have lightened up on the pumpkin cookies? AND you brought us apples to our last match. My initial suspicion that you injected anabolic steroids into each delicious bite of juicy apple was confirmed by the team’s play on Friday (Lord knows it wasn’t the coaching).
Oops. There I go being mean again. This is really hard for me because you gave me like 37 minutes against Penn Trafford. Maybe you noticed my WTF expression during the entire game. It was like a gift from God. Quick question actually: Are you secretly Jewish, and thus no doubt aware that it is indeed Rosh Hashanah, a week full of good and selfless acts? If so, good for you, or “mazel tov”, if you like that better. And in honor of Rosh Hashanah I should say sorry. I did blame you for a lot of things Coach. A lot of it you really really really deserved. But some of the things I blamed you for really weren’t your mistakes. After all, it wasn’t your fault that that bitch Paterra ordered us all medium jackets.
So you might be wondering why I am writing again. Really, its more of an affirmation statement, which is something that comes from the heart, I think. Here is my “affirmation statement” Coach: I AM NOT A WATERGIRL. I did see the movie “Water Boy.” I enjoyed it. But the connection between me and that mentally retarded guy really needs to end there. First of all, I don’t have a lisp. Just wanted to get that little tidbit out there. Secondly, we “benchers” (as I have affectionately dubbed us) do not mind helping out our fellow teammates. I heartily enjoy the company of most of them. However, you kind of treated us like Siberian Huskies. That’s really the best analogy I can come up with. Like little work horses that must go “FASTER! FASTER” to retrieve water for Master. And then to “reward” us for our hard service by patting (petting?) us on the back and with a lofty coo, tell us: “Good Girl.” Beacuse I’m pretty sure that’s what people do to dogs. And not only was I blessed without a lisp, but without fur as well. So really there was no reason for that.
Oh, and FYI: They let the Waterboy play football.
Slightly annoyed,
Molly
Its been a while since our last letter, hasn’t it? And actually you’ve been much better lately. Maybe you have lightened up on the pumpkin cookies? AND you brought us apples to our last match. My initial suspicion that you injected anabolic steroids into each delicious bite of juicy apple was confirmed by the team’s play on Friday (Lord knows it wasn’t the coaching).
Oops. There I go being mean again. This is really hard for me because you gave me like 37 minutes against Penn Trafford. Maybe you noticed my WTF expression during the entire game. It was like a gift from God. Quick question actually: Are you secretly Jewish, and thus no doubt aware that it is indeed Rosh Hashanah, a week full of good and selfless acts? If so, good for you, or “mazel tov”, if you like that better. And in honor of Rosh Hashanah I should say sorry. I did blame you for a lot of things Coach. A lot of it you really really really deserved. But some of the things I blamed you for really weren’t your mistakes. After all, it wasn’t your fault that that bitch Paterra ordered us all medium jackets.
So you might be wondering why I am writing again. Really, its more of an affirmation statement, which is something that comes from the heart, I think. Here is my “affirmation statement” Coach: I AM NOT A WATERGIRL. I did see the movie “Water Boy.” I enjoyed it. But the connection between me and that mentally retarded guy really needs to end there. First of all, I don’t have a lisp. Just wanted to get that little tidbit out there. Secondly, we “benchers” (as I have affectionately dubbed us) do not mind helping out our fellow teammates. I heartily enjoy the company of most of them. However, you kind of treated us like Siberian Huskies. That’s really the best analogy I can come up with. Like little work horses that must go “FASTER! FASTER” to retrieve water for Master. And then to “reward” us for our hard service by patting (petting?) us on the back and with a lofty coo, tell us: “Good Girl.” Beacuse I’m pretty sure that’s what people do to dogs. And not only was I blessed without a lisp, but without fur as well. So really there was no reason for that.
Oh, and FYI: They let the Waterboy play football.
Slightly annoyed,
Molly
A Letter to Qwendy
Dear Coach:
Hi, how are you? I am not so well. You’ve kind of put me in a bit of an emotional state. And I’ve sort of lost my appetite as well. So my parents think I’m anorexic now (this is worse than last month when they thought I was bulimic). Luckily I’m used to these kinds of notions, so I just sort of brush them off. Of course, you could be doing this to help me. You, the clever medical assistant that you are, might have realized my plans to fit back into this old pair of jeans I really like (they are Mavi brand and therefore it is absolutely necessary for me to trim down those love handles) decided that since I wasn’t burning calories in game play (FUN FACT: surprisingly people don’t burn many calories while sitting!) would push my fragile emotional state far enough that the look, smell, and taste of edible substances makes me want to vomit. Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this letter. I guess it really is my best interests you have at heart.
So anyways, I guess I don’t really mind sitting on the bench that badly. My hair is usually much nicer this way. But seriously, you were WAY harsh on us today. And I just wanted to be like: “Coach, that was WAY harsh.” But you scare me and would most likely beat me with your stick. Or maybe just reply in that fake, sickly sweet saccharine voice of yours that I was not being a “team player.” I used to just compare you to like a Gestapo. Like really mean and all, but just doing what you had to do. But more and more you are actually becoming Hitler-esque. I really hate making Holocaust metaphors, but in this case this works pretty well. Cuz McCabe, Becca, Sam, Kita and I are the Jews. We are the “bench players” – a subhuman race tyrannized by you. And just because you don’t make us wear little Star of Davids on our backs doesn’t mean you aren’t oppressing us. I’m not gonna lie. You totally are. Hitler was very mean to the Jews and he made them cry. Last night, I cried Coach. (I admit partly because everyone in my family got fast food and I had to eat nasty old leftovers, but that’s beside the point. I was easily broken at that point because of you). But the more alarming thing is that at least Hitler had syphilis. At least he had a minor excuse for his insanity. You have absolutely no excuse. And that makes me cry inside Coach. It really does.
On another note: seriously Coach, WTF? Sam Ratica works harder than any person on the team. She is first every freaking time we do sprints. She is nice to every girl. She doesn’t have anything but a pleasant, positive attitude. And you have the audacity to say that SHE isn’t a team player? WTF is in those pumpkin cookies you gobble down so voraciously? What kind of drugs are you seriously taking? Oh wait I forgot! It wasn’t that North Allegheny was better skilled than us, or that they worked harder, or played better, or had a better coach whose not taking drugs. It was those damn bench players fault we lost. If only those stupid bitches had just cheered more. THEN we would have won. OF COURSE!
“Oh no! Someone alert the bench players! They are not cheering again! Their faces will be so red!”
And like after that game and all, I felt pretty played. Like a little puppet that you used to just make yourself laugh and laugh and laugh. And that hurts too. Because, we really do not enjoy being screwed over again and again and again (contrary to popular opinion). Like in the future I think before people join field hockey there should be a warning sign – CAUTION: MAY CAUSE LOW SELF-ESTEEM OR EXTREME DEPRESSION, BUT PROBABLY BOTH!
Coach, I’m not gonna lie. I had a fantasy about stabbing you with my field hockey stick (and I’m pretty sure that this is justifiable homicide.) It went a little something like this:
ME: I’m not gonna take this anymore you crazy bitch! *I wave my stick around wildly before cracking it in half over the fence. My eyes are glazed over and crazed-looking*
COACH: This is not team spirit. Why is your jaw dropping to the ground?
I have to go to bed now because I
ME: My fucking jaw isn’t on the fucking ground. *I thrust the splintered edge of Cyclone into her stomach and walk away complacently*
I hope you enjoyed that little segment of writing. I guess I’m not very talented at field hockey, so maybe you can enjoy one of my other “talents.” I trust it was a nice little pleasant treat for you to mull over. I find it a quite palatable little scenario, don’t you?
have a headache from thinking about all of this again.
Hate,
Molly
Hi, how are you? I am not so well. You’ve kind of put me in a bit of an emotional state. And I’ve sort of lost my appetite as well. So my parents think I’m anorexic now (this is worse than last month when they thought I was bulimic). Luckily I’m used to these kinds of notions, so I just sort of brush them off. Of course, you could be doing this to help me. You, the clever medical assistant that you are, might have realized my plans to fit back into this old pair of jeans I really like (they are Mavi brand and therefore it is absolutely necessary for me to trim down those love handles) decided that since I wasn’t burning calories in game play (FUN FACT: surprisingly people don’t burn many calories while sitting!) would push my fragile emotional state far enough that the look, smell, and taste of edible substances makes me want to vomit. Maybe I shouldn’t be writing this letter. I guess it really is my best interests you have at heart.
So anyways, I guess I don’t really mind sitting on the bench that badly. My hair is usually much nicer this way. But seriously, you were WAY harsh on us today. And I just wanted to be like: “Coach, that was WAY harsh.” But you scare me and would most likely beat me with your stick. Or maybe just reply in that fake, sickly sweet saccharine voice of yours that I was not being a “team player.” I used to just compare you to like a Gestapo. Like really mean and all, but just doing what you had to do. But more and more you are actually becoming Hitler-esque. I really hate making Holocaust metaphors, but in this case this works pretty well. Cuz McCabe, Becca, Sam, Kita and I are the Jews. We are the “bench players” – a subhuman race tyrannized by you. And just because you don’t make us wear little Star of Davids on our backs doesn’t mean you aren’t oppressing us. I’m not gonna lie. You totally are. Hitler was very mean to the Jews and he made them cry. Last night, I cried Coach. (I admit partly because everyone in my family got fast food and I had to eat nasty old leftovers, but that’s beside the point. I was easily broken at that point because of you). But the more alarming thing is that at least Hitler had syphilis. At least he had a minor excuse for his insanity. You have absolutely no excuse. And that makes me cry inside Coach. It really does.
On another note: seriously Coach, WTF? Sam Ratica works harder than any person on the team. She is first every freaking time we do sprints. She is nice to every girl. She doesn’t have anything but a pleasant, positive attitude. And you have the audacity to say that SHE isn’t a team player? WTF is in those pumpkin cookies you gobble down so voraciously? What kind of drugs are you seriously taking? Oh wait I forgot! It wasn’t that North Allegheny was better skilled than us, or that they worked harder, or played better, or had a better coach whose not taking drugs. It was those damn bench players fault we lost. If only those stupid bitches had just cheered more. THEN we would have won. OF COURSE!
“Oh no! Someone alert the bench players! They are not cheering again! Their faces will be so red!”
And like after that game and all, I felt pretty played. Like a little puppet that you used to just make yourself laugh and laugh and laugh. And that hurts too. Because, we really do not enjoy being screwed over again and again and again (contrary to popular opinion). Like in the future I think before people join field hockey there should be a warning sign – CAUTION: MAY CAUSE LOW SELF-ESTEEM OR EXTREME DEPRESSION, BUT PROBABLY BOTH!
Coach, I’m not gonna lie. I had a fantasy about stabbing you with my field hockey stick (and I’m pretty sure that this is justifiable homicide.) It went a little something like this:
ME: I’m not gonna take this anymore you crazy bitch! *I wave my stick around wildly before cracking it in half over the fence. My eyes are glazed over and crazed-looking*
COACH: This is not team spirit. Why is your jaw dropping to the ground?
I have to go to bed now because I
ME: My fucking jaw isn’t on the fucking ground. *I thrust the splintered edge of Cyclone into her stomach and walk away complacently*
I hope you enjoyed that little segment of writing. I guess I’m not very talented at field hockey, so maybe you can enjoy one of my other “talents.” I trust it was a nice little pleasant treat for you to mull over. I find it a quite palatable little scenario, don’t you?
have a headache from thinking about all of this again.
Hate,
Molly
Operation Russian Blue
Characters:
Laura Denny - Marries into the Walpole family; exudes a falsely sweet persona; determined to figure out the mysterious Walpole secret.
Miles Walpole - Laura's husband; youngest member of the Walpole family; enjoys food
Marge Walpole - Miles's older, outspoken sister; not fond of Laura; works as a writer for the show BooBahs
Eileen Walpole - The matriarch of the Walpole family
Oswald Walpole - Eileen's husband; suffers from a heart condition.
Scene One - The basement of the Walpole house
(The basement is dimly lit and dusty. Barbara Streisand’s Greatest Hits Volume 2 can be heard playing lightly in the background. Marge, Eileen, and Oswald Walpole are gathered together on two lumpy couches, talking quietly.)
Eileen: (tapping fingers lightly against her jaw) We have put off this dilemma quite long enough. It happens in a week and a half. We have to make a decision about Laura.
Marge: Refer to her as “the Enemy,” Mother. Don’t humanize her with a name. As for me, (slamming her fist into her hand viciously) I say we kill the little imposter. (Marge opens a large notebook to reveal a poster of a young woman. A large red 'X' has been drawn over her face and the word 'ENEMY' is written at the bottom)
Oswald: For goodness sake, Marge! What kind of daughter have we raised? I can’t even believe you would suggest that! (Oswald wheezes, grabs his chest, and begins coughing fitfully.) (To Eileen, in between coughs) This is all your doing. Letting her run off with new-age hippies so she can smoke pot and write those poems about how much she loathes us.
Eileen: (defensively) Now Oswald, Marge has always been a bit dramatic, (pauses, eyes shifting around the room) even before her little “experimentation” phase. I’m sure she would never really want to hurt Laura. (to Marge) (assuredly) Don’t listen to your father; I think all of your poems are beautiful, darling. And now look at you! You’re a successful writer!
Marge: (agitated) Please Mother, I don’t want to talk about my job.
Eileen: I don’t know what you’re so ashamed of. I think BooBahs is a great television show that encourages (pauses) creativity in children -
Marge: (exasperated) Mother, please!
Eileen: - and I don’t know why you’re always going on about how it’s not real writing. I for one find a lot of symbolism in their little “BooBah dances.”
Marge: (angrily) Mother! You know that I’m sensitive about BooBahs. Now I would appreciate it if we could please change the subject.
Eileen: Aww, Margie, I’m sorry! Give me a hug! (Eileen attempts to embrace Marge.)
Marge: (disgustedly) No, I don’t want to hug you. (Raises hands frantically in an attempt to stop her mother’s advances.) I’m very upset right now and you are never receptive to my needs. If it wasn’t for you-know-what, I wouldn’t even be here right now.
(Eileen gasps and rises to her feet.)
Oswald: (raising his voice) Speaking of you-know-what. (Oswald pauses. Marge and Eileen both look in his direction. Eileen sits back down.) That was the original intention of this conversation. The wedding is in ten days.
Marge: If we let her marry him she’ll find out about it. Laura will wait all of about five seconds to turn us over to the police.
Oswald: I hardly think that Laura would turn over her husband’s family to the police. She loves Miles. That has to count for something.
Eileen: (sighs) No, Marge is right. Laura doesn’t like us. But there’s really no way to stop the wedding. (Eileen muses for a few seconds. Her face brightens with excitement) Unless, (to Marge) do you still have any of that pot left? Or how about. (pause) What do the kids call it. (taps her fingers in thought) Acid?
Marge: Drugs won’t work on her. She’s much too evil. (matter-of-factly) I renew my original suggestion.
Oswald: Both of you are out of your minds. Laura is about as evil as Oscar the Grouch. She’s just a little bit (pause) abrasive when you first meet her. (decidedly) The only thing we can do is to let this wedding proceed and pray that Laura never discovers (eyes narrow) the truth.
Marge: Clearly, Dad, you’ve never actually watched the television show. Oscar pretty much runs the whole Sesame Street Underworld. So actually I’d say your comparison is quite accurate. Therefore, unless we want to invite a fire-breathing, hellion she-devil into our family, we have to thwart this wedding at all costs.
Eileen: (in an annoyingly condescending, maternal tone) Sorry Margie, but we really have no other options. There is no way to stop this wedding without hurting Miles. And this family was built on values like love (pats own heart several times) not hurt (clenches hand into karate chop position and hacks at the air for emphasis).
(Marge gives Oswald a what-in-the-word-is-she-talking-about look. Oswald looks back at Eileen clueless, but says nothing. Marge rolls her eyes.)
Marge: (sourly) Amateurs. (Murmurs under her breath as she exits) If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.
Eileen: (to Oswald) Since she’s come back home she’s gotten even more ridiculous.
Oswald: (tiredly) No. It’s the same old Marge.
(Oswald exits, leaving Eileen alone in the basement.)
Scene Two – A small lodge in rural New Jersey
(Guests are being served dinner at Laura and Miles’s wedding reception. Eileen and Marge are seated at a circular table with three other guests talking quietly amongst each other. Marge and Eileen sit in silence. Eileen occasionally casts sideways glances at Marge, who is tapping her fingers against the table in agitation. Eileen makes an odd gagging noise as she swallows another piece of her steak. Marge clenches her teeth in annoyance and increases the rate of her finger tappings.)
Eileen: (breaking the silence) This food is really great! (pieces of food fly out of her mouth into the air.)
(Marge gives Eileen a cold look and continues to tap her fingers loudly)
Eileen: (concerned) Are you upset about something Margie?
(Marge’s finger tappings, now at their fastest rate yet, abruptly stop. Marge looks up at Eileen in amazement.)
Marge: (in an exasperated tone) Yes, Mother, I would say something is wrong. Laura and Miles just got married. And maybe if you weren’t hacking away at that steak like you’ve never tasted cow before, you might consider the severity of our situation.
(Eileen opens her mouth to speak, but changes her mind and returns to her steak.)
Marge: (arms crossed) So I guess that’s it. She’s part of the family now. And you just let it happen without a fight.
Eileen: (between mouthfuls of steak) You know, you should really try this. It’s delicious.
Marge: Why aren’t you taking this seriously? (smugly) I am. I even have something special planned for later.
Eileen: What do you mean?
Marge: Remember what Laura and Miles’s song is?
Eileen: (sighs lovingly) My Heart Will Go On. (Eileen clasps her heart and begins to hum My Heart Will Go On in a loud off-tune tone.)
Marge: (makes gagging gesture with finger) What a classic. (contentedly) Luckily I fixed that little dilemma.
Eileen: (unsettled) What did you do?
Marge: (smiling malignantly) You’ll see. (Marge spies Laura and Miles chatting with a few friends.) Why don’t we congratulate the happy couple?
Eileen: Marge, it’s their wedding. We shouldn’t cause trouble. What if – (Eileen’s words go unheard. Marge is already walking towards Laura and Miles.)
(Marge soon arrives at Laura and Miles’s table. Eileen comes trailing after her. For a brief moment, Marge and Laura make eye contact. Laura’s left eye begins to twitch. Miles looks nervous.)
Laura: (in an extremely fake, nasal voice) Oh, hi Marge! Are you enjoying the reception?
Marge: You bet! (Marge smiles threateningly, scrunching her nose, crinkling her eyes, and revealing her fang-like teeth)
Laura: Hmm… well that’s super. And it’s great to see that you’re wearing your latest zebra kill! (Laura gestures to Marge’s outfit: a zebra-print power suit complete with hot pink stiletto heels.)
Marge: Well, I wanted to look snappy for your wedding. Don’t you think these zebra stripes are slimming Miles? (Turns about, running her hands down the fabric.)
(Miles opens his mouth uncertainly, but says nothing. Eileen has just arrived and is eager to change the subject.)
Eileen: Speaking of slimming, Laura, you look absolutely fabulous in that wedding dress. (convincingly)You must be eating your peas and carrots!
Marge: (snorts) Or Exlax.
(Eileen jabs Marge in the stomach with her elbow. Marge winces in pain, grabbing her rib cage dramatically.)
Laura: (ignoring Marge) Thank you Mom. (Eileen smiles uncomfortably at the maternal reference.) I have been working out lately. I’ve been taking this great yoga class. I feel as though it really cleanses my soul. (notices that her audience is losing interest) Well, Miles and I better get going. The DJ is about to play our song.
Marge: (in an exaggerated tone of excitement) What a treat! Celine Dion has always been my absolute favorite Canadian songstress!
Laura: Wow, thanks Sis.
Marge: Please, call me Big Marge. That’s what everyone in my poker club calls me.
Laura: (in a phony voice) Hmm… I’ll keep that in my mental lockbox for future reference. (Points to her head and winks)
Marge: (with a fake smile) Oh I bet you will.
(Laura drags Miles away to the center of the dance floor to prepare for their first dance as a married couple. Laura signals to the DJ who begins to play My Heart Will Go On. Laura begins to sing along to the lyrics while Marge watches on with a malevolent smirk.)
Laura: (singing in a shrill, nasal voice) Far across the distance, and spaces between us. You have come to show you go on. (Laura abandons Miles as a dancing partner and begins an elaborate dance routine complete with hand gestures) Neeeaar, faaaar, wheeereveeeer you –
(The music cuts off suddenly. Laura releases a piercing shriek of horror. Instead, Gangsta Paradise comes pounding through the speakers.)
Laura: (hysterically) My wedding is ruined! (In between sobs, Laura pulls at Miles’s arm.) Fix it Miles! Put Celine back on!
(A relieved-looking Miles escapes from Laura’s whines to go speak to the DJ. Marge is standing in the corner of the dance floor with a smug look on her face. For a fleeting instant she and Laura make eye-contact for the second time that night. A look of understanding and furor crosses over Laura’s face. Laura points to Marge and then pretends to slit her own throat with her finger suggestively.)
Scene Three – the family room of the Walpole house
(Marge, Eileen, and Oswald are seated on a large dandelion-yellow couch with red and blue flowers printed across the fabric. Oswald calmly reads the newspaper. Eileen chews on her nails nervously, while Marge stares straight ahead, her lips puckered and her eyes bulging out as though she is being force-fed a bag of lemons.)
Marge: (bitterly) Remind me again why she is coming? Don’t you think it’s a little bit risky to bring her into the house?
Oswald: It’s not like she has rabies Marge.
Marge: That’s not what I meant. (looks around the room suspiciously) (in a hushed voice) She’ll have access to the basement.
Oswald: The basement is locked Marge.
Marge: Locks can’t stop an untamed beast!
Eileen: (annoyed) Margie! Thanksgiving is my favorite time of the year. Look around you (Eileen gestures to her many Thanksgiving-themed decorations): turkeys, pilgrim hats, cornstalks. All symbols of this beautiful holiday. I won’t have you ruin it for me, Margie.
Marge: Mother –
(Marge is interrupted by the doorbell. Oswald, Eileen, and Marge open the door to a waiting Miles and Laura.)
Laura: (with an enormous smile on her face) Mom! Dad! Big Marge! Happy Thanksgiving family!
(Laura embraces Oswald, Eileen, and Marge. Marge struggles uselessly to release herself from Laura’s kung-fu grip.)
Laura: (in a rehearsed voice) Wow, your house is really nice! (batting her eyelashes) I baked you guys an apple pie. (Laura holds pie out in front of her proudly.)
Marge: (mockingly) Wooowwww, Laura. That pie almost looks delicious, (under her breath) for a wild animal.
Laura: Hmm…wow, Big Marge. You know exactly how to warm my heart. Just the sound of your voice makes me think of rainbows, lollypops, and kittens.
(Marge looks alarmingly at Eileen and Oswald. Eileen begins to chew her fingernails frantically. The tension in the room lightens when Miles breaks the awkward silence.)
Miles: (in a whining tone) Mom, where are the cookies?
Scene Four - The Walpole family kitchen
(Oswald, Eileen, Marge, Miles, and Laura are gathered around the table, prepared to eat Thanksgiving dinner.)
Eileen: Now Laura, we Walpoles have a very special family tradition. Every Thanksgiving we go around the table and name something we're thankful for. Oswald, why don’t you go first?
Oswald: (clears throat) I’m thankful for this wonderfully cooked dinner (winks at Eileen) and of course my loving family.
(Marge coughs loudly. Miles has already begun to devour a large portion of turkey, a side of mash potatoes, and a generous share of cranberry sauce. Eileen nudges him gently.)
Eileen: (to Miles) Your turn sweets.
Miles: (with a quizzical look on his face) I’m thankful for (pause) world peace (pause) and stuff. (puffs out chest proudly.)
(Oswald, Eileen, Marge, and Laura all stare at Miles with a concerned look on their faces.)
Laura: Hmm… I’m thankful for assault weapons. (Smiles sweetly. Everyone stares in silence.) Just kidding.
(The actual Thanksgiving dinner is quiet and uneventful. Throughout the meal, Marge continues to cast Laura suspicious looks and raise her eyebrows at Eileen and Oswald knowingly. After Miles finishes his fourth serving of turkey, the dinner is officially over.)
Laura: Time for dessert guys. Why don’t I get that delicious gourmet apple pie from the kitchen?
Marge: No, let me get it Laura. I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself. You’ve already done so much for us.
Laura: Hmm… wow. Thanks Big Marge.
(Marge exits and then returns with the pie. As she nears the table she “accidentally” drops the apple pie.)
Marge: (innocently) Oopsy Daisy.
(Laura’s arms flail into the air. As Marge bends down to clean up the destroyed pie, she sniffs at its remnants.)
Laura: (For the first time, Laura’s voice loses its nasal sweetness. Her voice becomes deep and hoarse.) What are you doing! (Laura controls herself. The sweet nasally voice returns.) Hmm… I mean, why are you smelling that pie?
Marge: (matter-of-factly) Checking for toxins. (Marge continues smelling the pie) Interesting. (Marge rubs pie crumbs between her fingers.) Tut. Tut. Tut. I think the results are pretty clear. (She smashes the remainder of the pie with her stiletto heel.)
Eileen: I guess that rules out apple pie à la mode.
Scene Five – Miles’s bedroom
(Miles is sitting comfortably on his bed with a plate of cookies. Laura is pacing his bedroom floor anxiously.)
Laura: (in a slightly hoarser version of the sweet nasally voice) She did it on purpose Miles. She dropped my beautiful, delectable, scrumptious, gourmet apple pie on purpose. Just like the wedding song. It was all her doing.
Miles: (between a mouthful of cookies) Uh huh. (nods head enthusiastically.)
Laura: (slamming her fist onto Miles’s desk) Exactly. And she’s going to pay for it. I’ll be damned if I let that pie-ruining hippie from Hell get away with this. (glancing up at a preoccupied Miles) Don’t you agree Miles?
Miles: (obliviously) What (pause) I (pause) what?
Laura: (the sweet nasally voice returns to its full potent power) Don’t you agree that Marge deserves to be punished? (as an afterthought) Dearest?
Miles: (remains clueless) Oh yeah. Right.
Laura: Hmm… I guess it might help if I could find some kind of place where Marge kept her personal things. You know, a place all to herself. I wonder where I could find such a place.
(Laura stares at Miles waiting for him to reply. Miles stares back oblivious to her intentions.)
Laura: (aggravated) Her bedroom Miles. Where is it?
Miles: Oh. That. Two doors down on the right.
(Laura chuckles evilly to herself and exits in search of Marge’s room)
Scene Six – Marge’s Room
(Laura enters a spacious yet noticeably bare room. The walls are a deep violet, splattered with hot pink paint. Laura rolls her eyes as she enters the room.)
Laura: (muttering to herself) Now where would good ol’ Margie hide incriminating information?
(Laura walks over to one of the only pieces of furniture in the room: a chestnut dresser. She carefully opens the top drawer to reveal a dozen or so BooBah shirts.)
Laura: (murmuring excitedly) What have we here? (inspecting one of the tee-shirts more closely) It appears to be a throng of overweight little puppets dancing around like wild banshees. What coke-huffing maniac came up with these things? (Remembers that she is in Marge’s room and chuckles to herself) I guess Marge really does do drugs.
(Laura continues to rifle through the dresser until she happens upon a small bronze key labeled ‘Basement.’)
Laura: Now I wonder what Marge could be hiding in the basement. (Giggles evilly as she exits the room.)
Scene Seven – The Walpole Kitchen
(Oswald, Eileen, and Marge sit around the large kitchen table talking quietly. A loud crash can be heard from the basement.)
Marge: (alarmed) Did you hear that? It’s the basement! I knew she would break in, that shrewd little armadillo!
Eileen: (unsuccessfully tries to hide her worried tone) Now let’s not jump to conclusions Margie. It could be anything.
Marge: Well I’m not waiting to find out.
(Marge runs to the basement door. Finding it unlocked, her eyes widen with horror. She runs frantically downstairs, followed by Eileen and Oswald.)
Scene Eight – The Walpole Basement
(When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Marge and Eileen stop dead in their tracks from shock. Laura is surrounded by dozens of tiny cats. She is stroking the largest of the undersized felines in her arms and cackling madly. When Oswald finally makes it down the stairs and sees Laura, he begins to wheeze and then faints. )
Eileen: (shocked) Laura, how did you get down here!
Laura: (Laura’s eyes are blazing and her usually well-maintained hair is wild with static.) Stay back or I'll pelt you with raw tuna. (holds out can of Fancy Feast cat food threateningly)
Marge: Laura, you don’t know what you’re doing!
Laura: Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing. I know all about your little freak show mutant teacup cat industry.
Eileen: (confused) But how? Operation Russian Blue is top secret!
Laura: (complacently) I have my connections. My brother sells illegally imported Cuban rugs on the black market. Plus I have a couple of friends in the New York Mafia. So, one day, my brother mentioned an interesting story he had encountered while making a recent deal: a family from rural New Jersey who genetically alters Russian Blues to keep them miniature-sized forever. When I discovered how lucrative your little business actually was, I knew I had to have piece of it. So, courtesy of my Mafia buddies, I arranged a little bump-in with Miles. A few months later, we’re married and I’m here. Everything has gone exactly according to plan.
Eileen: (sadly) My poor sweets. Just a pawn in your sick, twisted ploy. He was always such a good boy. He always –
Marge: (interjecting) Laura, I hope you know what you’re doing. Genetically mutating cats is a messy business. I’ve seen things that have scarred me forever.
Laura: (determinedly) I want a part in your heteromorphic mutant cat enterprise. And if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll kill this one. (Marge dangles the cat she had been holding by its left leg.)
Marge: (pleadingly) No! Not Humbah!
Laura: Then do as I say, or Hommibo gets it! (shakes Humbah again and giggles when the cat begins to squeal)
Marge: His name is Humbah! HOOM-BUH. He’s named after my favorite Boo Bah. The yellow one.
Laura: Yes, these Boo Bahs you speak of, I noticed the shirts in your dresser. They are quite (pause) colorful. (contemplates for a moment than drops Humbah) I wonder what the producers of your beloved children’s television show would think if they discovered that one of their writers was involved in an illegal mutant cat enterprise.
Marge: (raises fist angrily) You wouldn’t dare! Don’t bring the Boo Bahs into this!
Laura: Oh (pauses dramatically) but I would.
Marge: (despairingly) Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just please, leave the Boo Bahs out of this.
Laura: (the sweet nasally voice returns) Perfect.
Scene Nine – Walpole Family Room
(Marge, Eileen, and Laura are seated together on the yellow couch with red and blue flowers.)
Laura: Okay, now that we’re a little bit more comfortable, why don’t you get those plans for Operation Russian Blue?
Marge: (Marge glances over at Eileen and then at Humbah shaking in the corner of the room) I suppose I could go get the plans. (pause) (Marge’s face brightens) In the meantime, why don’t you relax and enjoy an episode of the Boo Bahs? I know you’ll love it!
Laura: (extra-obnoxiously nasal voice) Hmm… wow Big Marge. That would be just delightful.
(Marge puts a Boo Bahs videocassette into the VCR and instantly the screen is filled with colorful, gumdrop-like puppets. Laura’s eyes become extremely large and she is immediately mesmerized by the show.)
Eileen: Good thinking Margie! You must be eating your Smarties!
Marge: As much as you’d like to believe it Mother, people do not become more intelligent by eating Smarties. (Marge glances down at Laura who is bobbing up and down in beat with the Boo Bahs) Now, what are we going to do about her? (Marge jabs Laura who begins sputtering out nonsense.)
Laura: Jumbabumbabah moomoo bah bah.
Eileen: (Eileen prods Laura a few more times. Laura remains non-responsive.) Maybe we should have her institutionalized or something. She doesn’t really seem right in the head.
Marge: She never really seemed right in the head to me.
Eileen: Well, the important thing is that Operation Russian Blue is safe.
Marge: Yes, thanks to me.
Eileen: No, thanks to the Boo Bahs. I told you there was something mesmerizing about their little dances.
Marge: (looks skeptically at Laura who is now crawling around the floor and drooling) Indeed.
The End
Laura Denny - Marries into the Walpole family; exudes a falsely sweet persona; determined to figure out the mysterious Walpole secret.
Miles Walpole - Laura's husband; youngest member of the Walpole family; enjoys food
Marge Walpole - Miles's older, outspoken sister; not fond of Laura; works as a writer for the show BooBahs
Eileen Walpole - The matriarch of the Walpole family
Oswald Walpole - Eileen's husband; suffers from a heart condition.
Scene One - The basement of the Walpole house
(The basement is dimly lit and dusty. Barbara Streisand’s Greatest Hits Volume 2 can be heard playing lightly in the background. Marge, Eileen, and Oswald Walpole are gathered together on two lumpy couches, talking quietly.)
Eileen: (tapping fingers lightly against her jaw) We have put off this dilemma quite long enough. It happens in a week and a half. We have to make a decision about Laura.
Marge: Refer to her as “the Enemy,” Mother. Don’t humanize her with a name. As for me, (slamming her fist into her hand viciously) I say we kill the little imposter. (Marge opens a large notebook to reveal a poster of a young woman. A large red 'X' has been drawn over her face and the word 'ENEMY' is written at the bottom)
Oswald: For goodness sake, Marge! What kind of daughter have we raised? I can’t even believe you would suggest that! (Oswald wheezes, grabs his chest, and begins coughing fitfully.) (To Eileen, in between coughs) This is all your doing. Letting her run off with new-age hippies so she can smoke pot and write those poems about how much she loathes us.
Eileen: (defensively) Now Oswald, Marge has always been a bit dramatic, (pauses, eyes shifting around the room) even before her little “experimentation” phase. I’m sure she would never really want to hurt Laura. (to Marge) (assuredly) Don’t listen to your father; I think all of your poems are beautiful, darling. And now look at you! You’re a successful writer!
Marge: (agitated) Please Mother, I don’t want to talk about my job.
Eileen: I don’t know what you’re so ashamed of. I think BooBahs is a great television show that encourages (pauses) creativity in children -
Marge: (exasperated) Mother, please!
Eileen: - and I don’t know why you’re always going on about how it’s not real writing. I for one find a lot of symbolism in their little “BooBah dances.”
Marge: (angrily) Mother! You know that I’m sensitive about BooBahs. Now I would appreciate it if we could please change the subject.
Eileen: Aww, Margie, I’m sorry! Give me a hug! (Eileen attempts to embrace Marge.)
Marge: (disgustedly) No, I don’t want to hug you. (Raises hands frantically in an attempt to stop her mother’s advances.) I’m very upset right now and you are never receptive to my needs. If it wasn’t for you-know-what, I wouldn’t even be here right now.
(Eileen gasps and rises to her feet.)
Oswald: (raising his voice) Speaking of you-know-what. (Oswald pauses. Marge and Eileen both look in his direction. Eileen sits back down.) That was the original intention of this conversation. The wedding is in ten days.
Marge: If we let her marry him she’ll find out about it. Laura will wait all of about five seconds to turn us over to the police.
Oswald: I hardly think that Laura would turn over her husband’s family to the police. She loves Miles. That has to count for something.
Eileen: (sighs) No, Marge is right. Laura doesn’t like us. But there’s really no way to stop the wedding. (Eileen muses for a few seconds. Her face brightens with excitement) Unless, (to Marge) do you still have any of that pot left? Or how about. (pause) What do the kids call it. (taps her fingers in thought) Acid?
Marge: Drugs won’t work on her. She’s much too evil. (matter-of-factly) I renew my original suggestion.
Oswald: Both of you are out of your minds. Laura is about as evil as Oscar the Grouch. She’s just a little bit (pause) abrasive when you first meet her. (decidedly) The only thing we can do is to let this wedding proceed and pray that Laura never discovers (eyes narrow) the truth.
Marge: Clearly, Dad, you’ve never actually watched the television show. Oscar pretty much runs the whole Sesame Street Underworld. So actually I’d say your comparison is quite accurate. Therefore, unless we want to invite a fire-breathing, hellion she-devil into our family, we have to thwart this wedding at all costs.
Eileen: (in an annoyingly condescending, maternal tone) Sorry Margie, but we really have no other options. There is no way to stop this wedding without hurting Miles. And this family was built on values like love (pats own heart several times) not hurt (clenches hand into karate chop position and hacks at the air for emphasis).
(Marge gives Oswald a what-in-the-word-is-she-talking-about look. Oswald looks back at Eileen clueless, but says nothing. Marge rolls her eyes.)
Marge: (sourly) Amateurs. (Murmurs under her breath as she exits) If you want something done, you have to do it yourself.
Eileen: (to Oswald) Since she’s come back home she’s gotten even more ridiculous.
Oswald: (tiredly) No. It’s the same old Marge.
(Oswald exits, leaving Eileen alone in the basement.)
Scene Two – A small lodge in rural New Jersey
(Guests are being served dinner at Laura and Miles’s wedding reception. Eileen and Marge are seated at a circular table with three other guests talking quietly amongst each other. Marge and Eileen sit in silence. Eileen occasionally casts sideways glances at Marge, who is tapping her fingers against the table in agitation. Eileen makes an odd gagging noise as she swallows another piece of her steak. Marge clenches her teeth in annoyance and increases the rate of her finger tappings.)
Eileen: (breaking the silence) This food is really great! (pieces of food fly out of her mouth into the air.)
(Marge gives Eileen a cold look and continues to tap her fingers loudly)
Eileen: (concerned) Are you upset about something Margie?
(Marge’s finger tappings, now at their fastest rate yet, abruptly stop. Marge looks up at Eileen in amazement.)
Marge: (in an exasperated tone) Yes, Mother, I would say something is wrong. Laura and Miles just got married. And maybe if you weren’t hacking away at that steak like you’ve never tasted cow before, you might consider the severity of our situation.
(Eileen opens her mouth to speak, but changes her mind and returns to her steak.)
Marge: (arms crossed) So I guess that’s it. She’s part of the family now. And you just let it happen without a fight.
Eileen: (between mouthfuls of steak) You know, you should really try this. It’s delicious.
Marge: Why aren’t you taking this seriously? (smugly) I am. I even have something special planned for later.
Eileen: What do you mean?
Marge: Remember what Laura and Miles’s song is?
Eileen: (sighs lovingly) My Heart Will Go On. (Eileen clasps her heart and begins to hum My Heart Will Go On in a loud off-tune tone.)
Marge: (makes gagging gesture with finger) What a classic. (contentedly) Luckily I fixed that little dilemma.
Eileen: (unsettled) What did you do?
Marge: (smiling malignantly) You’ll see. (Marge spies Laura and Miles chatting with a few friends.) Why don’t we congratulate the happy couple?
Eileen: Marge, it’s their wedding. We shouldn’t cause trouble. What if – (Eileen’s words go unheard. Marge is already walking towards Laura and Miles.)
(Marge soon arrives at Laura and Miles’s table. Eileen comes trailing after her. For a brief moment, Marge and Laura make eye contact. Laura’s left eye begins to twitch. Miles looks nervous.)
Laura: (in an extremely fake, nasal voice) Oh, hi Marge! Are you enjoying the reception?
Marge: You bet! (Marge smiles threateningly, scrunching her nose, crinkling her eyes, and revealing her fang-like teeth)
Laura: Hmm… well that’s super. And it’s great to see that you’re wearing your latest zebra kill! (Laura gestures to Marge’s outfit: a zebra-print power suit complete with hot pink stiletto heels.)
Marge: Well, I wanted to look snappy for your wedding. Don’t you think these zebra stripes are slimming Miles? (Turns about, running her hands down the fabric.)
(Miles opens his mouth uncertainly, but says nothing. Eileen has just arrived and is eager to change the subject.)
Eileen: Speaking of slimming, Laura, you look absolutely fabulous in that wedding dress. (convincingly)You must be eating your peas and carrots!
Marge: (snorts) Or Exlax.
(Eileen jabs Marge in the stomach with her elbow. Marge winces in pain, grabbing her rib cage dramatically.)
Laura: (ignoring Marge) Thank you Mom. (Eileen smiles uncomfortably at the maternal reference.) I have been working out lately. I’ve been taking this great yoga class. I feel as though it really cleanses my soul. (notices that her audience is losing interest) Well, Miles and I better get going. The DJ is about to play our song.
Marge: (in an exaggerated tone of excitement) What a treat! Celine Dion has always been my absolute favorite Canadian songstress!
Laura: Wow, thanks Sis.
Marge: Please, call me Big Marge. That’s what everyone in my poker club calls me.
Laura: (in a phony voice) Hmm… I’ll keep that in my mental lockbox for future reference. (Points to her head and winks)
Marge: (with a fake smile) Oh I bet you will.
(Laura drags Miles away to the center of the dance floor to prepare for their first dance as a married couple. Laura signals to the DJ who begins to play My Heart Will Go On. Laura begins to sing along to the lyrics while Marge watches on with a malevolent smirk.)
Laura: (singing in a shrill, nasal voice) Far across the distance, and spaces between us. You have come to show you go on. (Laura abandons Miles as a dancing partner and begins an elaborate dance routine complete with hand gestures) Neeeaar, faaaar, wheeereveeeer you –
(The music cuts off suddenly. Laura releases a piercing shriek of horror. Instead, Gangsta Paradise comes pounding through the speakers.)
Laura: (hysterically) My wedding is ruined! (In between sobs, Laura pulls at Miles’s arm.) Fix it Miles! Put Celine back on!
(A relieved-looking Miles escapes from Laura’s whines to go speak to the DJ. Marge is standing in the corner of the dance floor with a smug look on her face. For a fleeting instant she and Laura make eye-contact for the second time that night. A look of understanding and furor crosses over Laura’s face. Laura points to Marge and then pretends to slit her own throat with her finger suggestively.)
Scene Three – the family room of the Walpole house
(Marge, Eileen, and Oswald are seated on a large dandelion-yellow couch with red and blue flowers printed across the fabric. Oswald calmly reads the newspaper. Eileen chews on her nails nervously, while Marge stares straight ahead, her lips puckered and her eyes bulging out as though she is being force-fed a bag of lemons.)
Marge: (bitterly) Remind me again why she is coming? Don’t you think it’s a little bit risky to bring her into the house?
Oswald: It’s not like she has rabies Marge.
Marge: That’s not what I meant. (looks around the room suspiciously) (in a hushed voice) She’ll have access to the basement.
Oswald: The basement is locked Marge.
Marge: Locks can’t stop an untamed beast!
Eileen: (annoyed) Margie! Thanksgiving is my favorite time of the year. Look around you (Eileen gestures to her many Thanksgiving-themed decorations): turkeys, pilgrim hats, cornstalks. All symbols of this beautiful holiday. I won’t have you ruin it for me, Margie.
Marge: Mother –
(Marge is interrupted by the doorbell. Oswald, Eileen, and Marge open the door to a waiting Miles and Laura.)
Laura: (with an enormous smile on her face) Mom! Dad! Big Marge! Happy Thanksgiving family!
(Laura embraces Oswald, Eileen, and Marge. Marge struggles uselessly to release herself from Laura’s kung-fu grip.)
Laura: (in a rehearsed voice) Wow, your house is really nice! (batting her eyelashes) I baked you guys an apple pie. (Laura holds pie out in front of her proudly.)
Marge: (mockingly) Wooowwww, Laura. That pie almost looks delicious, (under her breath) for a wild animal.
Laura: Hmm…wow, Big Marge. You know exactly how to warm my heart. Just the sound of your voice makes me think of rainbows, lollypops, and kittens.
(Marge looks alarmingly at Eileen and Oswald. Eileen begins to chew her fingernails frantically. The tension in the room lightens when Miles breaks the awkward silence.)
Miles: (in a whining tone) Mom, where are the cookies?
Scene Four - The Walpole family kitchen
(Oswald, Eileen, Marge, Miles, and Laura are gathered around the table, prepared to eat Thanksgiving dinner.)
Eileen: Now Laura, we Walpoles have a very special family tradition. Every Thanksgiving we go around the table and name something we're thankful for. Oswald, why don’t you go first?
Oswald: (clears throat) I’m thankful for this wonderfully cooked dinner (winks at Eileen) and of course my loving family.
(Marge coughs loudly. Miles has already begun to devour a large portion of turkey, a side of mash potatoes, and a generous share of cranberry sauce. Eileen nudges him gently.)
Eileen: (to Miles) Your turn sweets.
Miles: (with a quizzical look on his face) I’m thankful for (pause) world peace (pause) and stuff. (puffs out chest proudly.)
(Oswald, Eileen, Marge, and Laura all stare at Miles with a concerned look on their faces.)
Laura: Hmm… I’m thankful for assault weapons. (Smiles sweetly. Everyone stares in silence.) Just kidding.
(The actual Thanksgiving dinner is quiet and uneventful. Throughout the meal, Marge continues to cast Laura suspicious looks and raise her eyebrows at Eileen and Oswald knowingly. After Miles finishes his fourth serving of turkey, the dinner is officially over.)
Laura: Time for dessert guys. Why don’t I get that delicious gourmet apple pie from the kitchen?
Marge: No, let me get it Laura. I don’t want you to inconvenience yourself. You’ve already done so much for us.
Laura: Hmm… wow. Thanks Big Marge.
(Marge exits and then returns with the pie. As she nears the table she “accidentally” drops the apple pie.)
Marge: (innocently) Oopsy Daisy.
(Laura’s arms flail into the air. As Marge bends down to clean up the destroyed pie, she sniffs at its remnants.)
Laura: (For the first time, Laura’s voice loses its nasal sweetness. Her voice becomes deep and hoarse.) What are you doing! (Laura controls herself. The sweet nasally voice returns.) Hmm… I mean, why are you smelling that pie?
Marge: (matter-of-factly) Checking for toxins. (Marge continues smelling the pie) Interesting. (Marge rubs pie crumbs between her fingers.) Tut. Tut. Tut. I think the results are pretty clear. (She smashes the remainder of the pie with her stiletto heel.)
Eileen: I guess that rules out apple pie à la mode.
Scene Five – Miles’s bedroom
(Miles is sitting comfortably on his bed with a plate of cookies. Laura is pacing his bedroom floor anxiously.)
Laura: (in a slightly hoarser version of the sweet nasally voice) She did it on purpose Miles. She dropped my beautiful, delectable, scrumptious, gourmet apple pie on purpose. Just like the wedding song. It was all her doing.
Miles: (between a mouthful of cookies) Uh huh. (nods head enthusiastically.)
Laura: (slamming her fist onto Miles’s desk) Exactly. And she’s going to pay for it. I’ll be damned if I let that pie-ruining hippie from Hell get away with this. (glancing up at a preoccupied Miles) Don’t you agree Miles?
Miles: (obliviously) What (pause) I (pause) what?
Laura: (the sweet nasally voice returns to its full potent power) Don’t you agree that Marge deserves to be punished? (as an afterthought) Dearest?
Miles: (remains clueless) Oh yeah. Right.
Laura: Hmm… I guess it might help if I could find some kind of place where Marge kept her personal things. You know, a place all to herself. I wonder where I could find such a place.
(Laura stares at Miles waiting for him to reply. Miles stares back oblivious to her intentions.)
Laura: (aggravated) Her bedroom Miles. Where is it?
Miles: Oh. That. Two doors down on the right.
(Laura chuckles evilly to herself and exits in search of Marge’s room)
Scene Six – Marge’s Room
(Laura enters a spacious yet noticeably bare room. The walls are a deep violet, splattered with hot pink paint. Laura rolls her eyes as she enters the room.)
Laura: (muttering to herself) Now where would good ol’ Margie hide incriminating information?
(Laura walks over to one of the only pieces of furniture in the room: a chestnut dresser. She carefully opens the top drawer to reveal a dozen or so BooBah shirts.)
Laura: (murmuring excitedly) What have we here? (inspecting one of the tee-shirts more closely) It appears to be a throng of overweight little puppets dancing around like wild banshees. What coke-huffing maniac came up with these things? (Remembers that she is in Marge’s room and chuckles to herself) I guess Marge really does do drugs.
(Laura continues to rifle through the dresser until she happens upon a small bronze key labeled ‘Basement.’)
Laura: Now I wonder what Marge could be hiding in the basement. (Giggles evilly as she exits the room.)
Scene Seven – The Walpole Kitchen
(Oswald, Eileen, and Marge sit around the large kitchen table talking quietly. A loud crash can be heard from the basement.)
Marge: (alarmed) Did you hear that? It’s the basement! I knew she would break in, that shrewd little armadillo!
Eileen: (unsuccessfully tries to hide her worried tone) Now let’s not jump to conclusions Margie. It could be anything.
Marge: Well I’m not waiting to find out.
(Marge runs to the basement door. Finding it unlocked, her eyes widen with horror. She runs frantically downstairs, followed by Eileen and Oswald.)
Scene Eight – The Walpole Basement
(When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Marge and Eileen stop dead in their tracks from shock. Laura is surrounded by dozens of tiny cats. She is stroking the largest of the undersized felines in her arms and cackling madly. When Oswald finally makes it down the stairs and sees Laura, he begins to wheeze and then faints. )
Eileen: (shocked) Laura, how did you get down here!
Laura: (Laura’s eyes are blazing and her usually well-maintained hair is wild with static.) Stay back or I'll pelt you with raw tuna. (holds out can of Fancy Feast cat food threateningly)
Marge: Laura, you don’t know what you’re doing!
Laura: Oh, I know exactly what I’m doing. I know all about your little freak show mutant teacup cat industry.
Eileen: (confused) But how? Operation Russian Blue is top secret!
Laura: (complacently) I have my connections. My brother sells illegally imported Cuban rugs on the black market. Plus I have a couple of friends in the New York Mafia. So, one day, my brother mentioned an interesting story he had encountered while making a recent deal: a family from rural New Jersey who genetically alters Russian Blues to keep them miniature-sized forever. When I discovered how lucrative your little business actually was, I knew I had to have piece of it. So, courtesy of my Mafia buddies, I arranged a little bump-in with Miles. A few months later, we’re married and I’m here. Everything has gone exactly according to plan.
Eileen: (sadly) My poor sweets. Just a pawn in your sick, twisted ploy. He was always such a good boy. He always –
Marge: (interjecting) Laura, I hope you know what you’re doing. Genetically mutating cats is a messy business. I’ve seen things that have scarred me forever.
Laura: (determinedly) I want a part in your heteromorphic mutant cat enterprise. And if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll kill this one. (Marge dangles the cat she had been holding by its left leg.)
Marge: (pleadingly) No! Not Humbah!
Laura: Then do as I say, or Hommibo gets it! (shakes Humbah again and giggles when the cat begins to squeal)
Marge: His name is Humbah! HOOM-BUH. He’s named after my favorite Boo Bah. The yellow one.
Laura: Yes, these Boo Bahs you speak of, I noticed the shirts in your dresser. They are quite (pause) colorful. (contemplates for a moment than drops Humbah) I wonder what the producers of your beloved children’s television show would think if they discovered that one of their writers was involved in an illegal mutant cat enterprise.
Marge: (raises fist angrily) You wouldn’t dare! Don’t bring the Boo Bahs into this!
Laura: Oh (pauses dramatically) but I would.
Marge: (despairingly) Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. Just please, leave the Boo Bahs out of this.
Laura: (the sweet nasally voice returns) Perfect.
Scene Nine – Walpole Family Room
(Marge, Eileen, and Laura are seated together on the yellow couch with red and blue flowers.)
Laura: Okay, now that we’re a little bit more comfortable, why don’t you get those plans for Operation Russian Blue?
Marge: (Marge glances over at Eileen and then at Humbah shaking in the corner of the room) I suppose I could go get the plans. (pause) (Marge’s face brightens) In the meantime, why don’t you relax and enjoy an episode of the Boo Bahs? I know you’ll love it!
Laura: (extra-obnoxiously nasal voice) Hmm… wow Big Marge. That would be just delightful.
(Marge puts a Boo Bahs videocassette into the VCR and instantly the screen is filled with colorful, gumdrop-like puppets. Laura’s eyes become extremely large and she is immediately mesmerized by the show.)
Eileen: Good thinking Margie! You must be eating your Smarties!
Marge: As much as you’d like to believe it Mother, people do not become more intelligent by eating Smarties. (Marge glances down at Laura who is bobbing up and down in beat with the Boo Bahs) Now, what are we going to do about her? (Marge jabs Laura who begins sputtering out nonsense.)
Laura: Jumbabumbabah moomoo bah bah.
Eileen: (Eileen prods Laura a few more times. Laura remains non-responsive.) Maybe we should have her institutionalized or something. She doesn’t really seem right in the head.
Marge: She never really seemed right in the head to me.
Eileen: Well, the important thing is that Operation Russian Blue is safe.
Marge: Yes, thanks to me.
Eileen: No, thanks to the Boo Bahs. I told you there was something mesmerizing about their little dances.
Marge: (looks skeptically at Laura who is now crawling around the floor and drooling) Indeed.
The End
Smooth Criminal (by Xtina)
List of Characters:
Julie – Grumpy 18-year-old girl who isn’t humored by her brother’s Christmas gift
Ben – Julie’s older brother who doesn’t realize that the gift he bought for his sister is more than what he bargained for.
Nathan – Julie’s 12-year-old brother who is only a small part in a very evil scheme.
Mrs. Greenwald – Weary of Julie’s claims about her Christmas gift.
Michael Jackson Action Figure – Hellish nightmare of a doll with a detachable nose; chip off the ol’ block. Has a slightly higher voice than the real man.
Michael Jackson – Indescribable. Trying to pull off an illegal scheme that could destroy the world.
Worker – One of the many who are helping Michael Jackson and his evil plot.
Policeman one – Puts Michael Jackson dolls in their place.
Policeman two – Aware of the dangerous task at hand.
Scene 1
[The sounds of various machines are heard out of the darkness. A pale, nose-less white face is seen as the lights slowly illuminate a busy factory. Evil cackles fill the air as mini Michael Jackson dolls are spewed from a main machine.]
Michael Doll: If somebody announced that all kids are dead, I would jump off a balcony immediately!
Michael: There we go! More, more, more! We don’t want to get behind on our spring line! Everyone should enjoy seeing Michael Jackson in pastels!
[A worker in a brown uniform enters, visibly upset.]
Worker: Excuse me, Michael?
Michael: What is it? Be quick about it!
Worker: It’s just that, we’re… um… out of… you know.
Michael: Already? My, my, my love will sure be entering many households this month. [giggles girlishly]
[Michael walks over to a nearby table and picks up his nose. He removes a small portion and hands it to the worker.]
Michael: There you go. It’s some of the last that’s actually natural. That should last us another two thousand at least. I just want to make sure that a little of me is with every child who buys a doll.
[The worker is clearly bothered. She looks around tensely and gazes at Michael for a few seconds.]
Worker: Do you honestly think that parents will buy these things for their children? It’s just… so…. wrong!
Michael: What are you saying? The police may not trust me, but surely the parents of America understand! When I was acquitted, it was a clear sign that adults understand me, even if I don’t understand them! [shaking] Children are what make the sun shine!
Worker: [mumbling] I knew I should have applied at Wal-Mart instead.
[The curtain closes as we see Michael watching diligently over the creation of his dolls.]
Scene 2
[The sounds of sleigh bells jingling are distinctly heard as we first view the Greenwald’s abode. The only light visible is the one emanating from the Christmas tree; the tinsel is sparkling and the rainbow colored lights glow happily. The sleigh bells stop suddenly and the theme from “Psycho” begins as a stage light shines upon a rectangular Christmas gift, wrapped in jolly reindeer wrapping paper with wads of tape conspicuously added on as an afterthought.]
[Julie enters.]
Julie: [cheerfully] Hmmm……
[Julie wanders around the Christmas tree, as if looking for a specific gift. Ben enters behind]
Julie: I hope that what you bought me this year is better than a sponge dinosaur that magically grows in the sink.
Ben: Very funny, and by the way, it was a seahorse.
Julie: OK, whatever, now where’s my present?
[Ben pulls out the rectangular gift that was highlighted in the beginning of the scene]
Julie: Well, you wrapped it this year, so that’s a definite improvement
Ben: [aggravated] Just open it!
[Julie slowly pulls the ribbon off, afraid of what she will find inside. After tearing apart the wrapping paper and discovering what Ben has given her, her face contorts into something between humor and disgust. A Michael Doll Jackson action figure lies inside the box, complete with a glitter vest and a white complexion. He is also donning a Santa hat for the holidays.]
Julie: Wow… I really don’t know what to say.
Ben: Just tell me that it’s the most amazing gift you’ve ever been given.
Julie: [sarcastically] And with a detachable nose – how lifelike!
Ben: Don’t forget that he can talk!
[Ben pulls a string the doll’s back.]
Michael Doll: If loving children is a crime, then I am guilty as charged!
Ben: [makes the doll moonwalk] You can’t tell me that this thing isn’t cool! And look! If you fill out this little survey you can win a grand prize trip to his Neverland Ranch! Don’t tell me that that’s never been a dream of yours! Maybe you’ll get to see Blanket or something! [chuckles]
Julie: Guess what? If I end up winning, I’ll let you go! I’m sure that you and Mikey would really bond. You both have mental issues.
Ben: Thanks. Since you were so generous, I’d probably get you a key chain or something.
Julie: [disturbed] You know what? I’m just going to put this in my room. All of the sparkles on his vest are hurting my eyes.
Ben: You like it… right?
Julie: [assuringly] Of course I do! It’s just that I can’t handle all of this excitement.
[Julie and Ben exit.]
Scene 3
[It is night and Julie is sound asleep. The alarm clock on her nightstand reads 3:07. Out of the silence comes a screeching voice.]
Michael Doll: I’m never gonna grow up! I’m Peter Pan!
[Julie wakes up with a start.]
Julie: [grumpily] I thought I turned you off!
[She grudgingly gets up and takes Michael Doll off of her dresser. The figurine is already turned off.]
Michael Doll: I love climbing trees and eating milk and cookies!
Julie: We’ll see how much you like this!
[Julie throws Michael Doll into the hallway and jumps back into her bed. A thump is heard as the Michael doll hits a wall.]
Michael Doll: [From afar] Little boys are like presents – they need to be cherished!
[Julie puts a pillow over her head and groans.]
Scene 4
[Julie sleepily enters the kitchen where Mrs. Greenwald and Julie’s younger brother Nathan are seated.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Wow, Julie… you look… unhappy.
Julie: That’s probably because that screwy plastic piece of crap that Ben bought me kept waking me up last night.
Mrs. Greenwald: Well, isn’t there an “off” switch?
Julie: It was off! It must be defective, just like the real guy.
Mrs. Greenwald: You know, his childhood is what caused him to be like he is, you really should have pity for the poor soul.
Julie: [staring at her mother with a scowl on her face] Well, I grew up with that leech Ben, isn’t that disturbing enough? I don’t carry an umbrella around with me claiming I have a skin disorder.
Mrs. Greenwald: [sighs] Maybe you should give it to Nathan, then. He must like it, anyway. It was in his bedroom this morning.
Nathan: [with a mouthful of cereal] I thought Julie put it in there!
Julie: I threw it in the hallway last night, but there’s no way it could’ve gotten all the way down to your bedroom. It’s OK, Nathan; you can just admit that you want it for your own!
Nathan: Ewww, I do not! I already stepped on its stupid nose that was lying in the middle of my bedroom floor!
Julie: [smirking] OK, buddy. Whatever you say.
Michael Doll: [from the distance] Let’s take a ride on my Ferris wheel and eat cupcakes!
[Laughter is heard from another room. Moments later, Ben enters cradling the Michael Doll Jackson doll in his arms. He is grinning broadly, apparently entertained by the doll. Suddenly, the theme music from “Psycho” ensues and the doll’s eyes seem to glow with glee for a split second. Julie gasps.]
Julie: [pointing at the doll madly] Did you…. did you…. did you see what it just did?
Ben: What? This? [pulls on the string]
Michael Doll: Rainbows, daisies, tootsie rolls! Let’s go play on my swing set!
Julie: [looking at Mrs. Greenwald] You saw it, didn’t you?
Mrs. Greenwald: Yes, I saw it talk. I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about. Can’t you just be happy with your brother’s gift?
Julie: Ben? Please, take it back and exchange it for a sponge leprechaun for all I care!
Ben: Sorry, no refunds on seasonal merchandise. [pointing to Michael Doll’s head] Note the Santa hat!
Julie: I don’t care if you keep that thing until all of the sparkles blind you, but just keep it away from me! [storms away]
Ben: Jeez, if she wanted a repeat of what I got her last year she should have just said so.
Mrs. Greenwald: [pats Ben on the head] It’s OK, dear, I think she’s just going through a phase.
Scene 5
[Julie and her Mom visit Target for some post-holiday shopping. Julie approaches the stacks of Michael Jackson dolls and shudders. She sees an array of varieties of the doll – she sees him in military garb, in a space suit, in swimming trunks, and wearing an exterminator’s suit with a large rat stamped on the front.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Wow, he’s really targeting all audiences, isn’t he?
Julie: Looks like it. God forbid the young exterminators feel excluded, huh?
[The ringing of a cell phone sounds from Mrs. Greenwald’s purse.]
Mrs. Greenwald: [opening the cell phone] Ben?
[Mrs. Greenwald’s face becomes increasingly more disturbed. Her mouth widens in horror as Ben’s indistinguishable voice becomes louder.]
Mrs. Greenwald: [tossing the cell phone back in her purse] We have to go!
Julie: [extremely frightened] Wha-what?
[A huge crash is heard from behind them. As Julie turns around she screams. The Michael Jackson dolls that she had been looking at are no longer in their containers. The lights suddenly blink off and scattered shrieks are heard. A few moments later massive footsteps are heard and dispersed rays from flashlights are seen. Julie looks around and is appalled. An astronaut Michael Jackson is seen floating through the air yelling something about children and sunflowers as a policeman battles the military Michael Jackson. Phrases from the dolls overpower any other noise and Julie and Mrs. Greenwald cover their ears in sheer terror. The lights come on once again.]
Policeman one: I think that’s all of them!
Policeman two: [wiping sweat from his forehead] The one with a rat on its shirt almost got me!
Policeman one: We’d better go; I heard that Wal-Mart has ten times as many. It seems like it’s the kids they’re after.
Policeman two: [nods] OK, People, there’s nothing left to see here. Go back to your homes and don’t let your children out of your sight!
Julie: Mom! Come on, they’re going to hurt Nathan!
[Julie and Mrs. Greenwald are seen running feverishly as the curtain falls.]
Scene 6
[The living room is silent except for the figure of Nathan sitting Indian style, only the back of his head visible. Julie and Mrs. Greenwald enter, extremely disheveled.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Nathan – honey – where’s Ben?
[Nathan is whispering, and then laughs. The theme from “Psycho” once again plays. Slowly, he turns around. His eyes are glowing orange. He is holding the Michael Jackson doll and smiling widely. He points towards the kitchen eerily. A spotlight shines on a partial view of the kitchen that is visible from the doorway. Ben is passed out on the floor, his arms and legs sprawled out in awkward positions.]
Michael Doll: Let’s go play Jacks!
Nathan: [innocently] Mommy, can we buy truck driver Michael?
Mrs. Greenwald: Sure, honey, just put the doll down….slowly…
Nathan: [putting his ear up to the doll] Mommy, Michael wants to talk to you.
[Mrs. Greenwald tears the doll away from her son and brutally steps on it. It tries to retaliate, but it utters only “sugar candy” as it is destroyed. Nathan shrieks, but his eyes stop glowing and he looks around, tremendously confused.]
Julie: My god, and I thought that the growing dinosaur sponge was bad.
Mrs. Greenwald: Next year, how about we stick to gift certificates?
[The prostrate figure of Ben begins to groan and he makes spastic movements. He slowly recovers and they help him up. The lights slowly dim to blackness, and the Christmas tree is the only source of light. The curtain falls. ]
Julie – Grumpy 18-year-old girl who isn’t humored by her brother’s Christmas gift
Ben – Julie’s older brother who doesn’t realize that the gift he bought for his sister is more than what he bargained for.
Nathan – Julie’s 12-year-old brother who is only a small part in a very evil scheme.
Mrs. Greenwald – Weary of Julie’s claims about her Christmas gift.
Michael Jackson Action Figure – Hellish nightmare of a doll with a detachable nose; chip off the ol’ block. Has a slightly higher voice than the real man.
Michael Jackson – Indescribable. Trying to pull off an illegal scheme that could destroy the world.
Worker – One of the many who are helping Michael Jackson and his evil plot.
Policeman one – Puts Michael Jackson dolls in their place.
Policeman two – Aware of the dangerous task at hand.
Scene 1
[The sounds of various machines are heard out of the darkness. A pale, nose-less white face is seen as the lights slowly illuminate a busy factory. Evil cackles fill the air as mini Michael Jackson dolls are spewed from a main machine.]
Michael Doll: If somebody announced that all kids are dead, I would jump off a balcony immediately!
Michael: There we go! More, more, more! We don’t want to get behind on our spring line! Everyone should enjoy seeing Michael Jackson in pastels!
[A worker in a brown uniform enters, visibly upset.]
Worker: Excuse me, Michael?
Michael: What is it? Be quick about it!
Worker: It’s just that, we’re… um… out of… you know.
Michael: Already? My, my, my love will sure be entering many households this month. [giggles girlishly]
[Michael walks over to a nearby table and picks up his nose. He removes a small portion and hands it to the worker.]
Michael: There you go. It’s some of the last that’s actually natural. That should last us another two thousand at least. I just want to make sure that a little of me is with every child who buys a doll.
[The worker is clearly bothered. She looks around tensely and gazes at Michael for a few seconds.]
Worker: Do you honestly think that parents will buy these things for their children? It’s just… so…. wrong!
Michael: What are you saying? The police may not trust me, but surely the parents of America understand! When I was acquitted, it was a clear sign that adults understand me, even if I don’t understand them! [shaking] Children are what make the sun shine!
Worker: [mumbling] I knew I should have applied at Wal-Mart instead.
[The curtain closes as we see Michael watching diligently over the creation of his dolls.]
Scene 2
[The sounds of sleigh bells jingling are distinctly heard as we first view the Greenwald’s abode. The only light visible is the one emanating from the Christmas tree; the tinsel is sparkling and the rainbow colored lights glow happily. The sleigh bells stop suddenly and the theme from “Psycho” begins as a stage light shines upon a rectangular Christmas gift, wrapped in jolly reindeer wrapping paper with wads of tape conspicuously added on as an afterthought.]
[Julie enters.]
Julie: [cheerfully] Hmmm……
[Julie wanders around the Christmas tree, as if looking for a specific gift. Ben enters behind]
Julie: I hope that what you bought me this year is better than a sponge dinosaur that magically grows in the sink.
Ben: Very funny, and by the way, it was a seahorse.
Julie: OK, whatever, now where’s my present?
[Ben pulls out the rectangular gift that was highlighted in the beginning of the scene]
Julie: Well, you wrapped it this year, so that’s a definite improvement
Ben: [aggravated] Just open it!
[Julie slowly pulls the ribbon off, afraid of what she will find inside. After tearing apart the wrapping paper and discovering what Ben has given her, her face contorts into something between humor and disgust. A Michael Doll Jackson action figure lies inside the box, complete with a glitter vest and a white complexion. He is also donning a Santa hat for the holidays.]
Julie: Wow… I really don’t know what to say.
Ben: Just tell me that it’s the most amazing gift you’ve ever been given.
Julie: [sarcastically] And with a detachable nose – how lifelike!
Ben: Don’t forget that he can talk!
[Ben pulls a string the doll’s back.]
Michael Doll: If loving children is a crime, then I am guilty as charged!
Ben: [makes the doll moonwalk] You can’t tell me that this thing isn’t cool! And look! If you fill out this little survey you can win a grand prize trip to his Neverland Ranch! Don’t tell me that that’s never been a dream of yours! Maybe you’ll get to see Blanket or something! [chuckles]
Julie: Guess what? If I end up winning, I’ll let you go! I’m sure that you and Mikey would really bond. You both have mental issues.
Ben: Thanks. Since you were so generous, I’d probably get you a key chain or something.
Julie: [disturbed] You know what? I’m just going to put this in my room. All of the sparkles on his vest are hurting my eyes.
Ben: You like it… right?
Julie: [assuringly] Of course I do! It’s just that I can’t handle all of this excitement.
[Julie and Ben exit.]
Scene 3
[It is night and Julie is sound asleep. The alarm clock on her nightstand reads 3:07. Out of the silence comes a screeching voice.]
Michael Doll: I’m never gonna grow up! I’m Peter Pan!
[Julie wakes up with a start.]
Julie: [grumpily] I thought I turned you off!
[She grudgingly gets up and takes Michael Doll off of her dresser. The figurine is already turned off.]
Michael Doll: I love climbing trees and eating milk and cookies!
Julie: We’ll see how much you like this!
[Julie throws Michael Doll into the hallway and jumps back into her bed. A thump is heard as the Michael doll hits a wall.]
Michael Doll: [From afar] Little boys are like presents – they need to be cherished!
[Julie puts a pillow over her head and groans.]
Scene 4
[Julie sleepily enters the kitchen where Mrs. Greenwald and Julie’s younger brother Nathan are seated.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Wow, Julie… you look… unhappy.
Julie: That’s probably because that screwy plastic piece of crap that Ben bought me kept waking me up last night.
Mrs. Greenwald: Well, isn’t there an “off” switch?
Julie: It was off! It must be defective, just like the real guy.
Mrs. Greenwald: You know, his childhood is what caused him to be like he is, you really should have pity for the poor soul.
Julie: [staring at her mother with a scowl on her face] Well, I grew up with that leech Ben, isn’t that disturbing enough? I don’t carry an umbrella around with me claiming I have a skin disorder.
Mrs. Greenwald: [sighs] Maybe you should give it to Nathan, then. He must like it, anyway. It was in his bedroom this morning.
Nathan: [with a mouthful of cereal] I thought Julie put it in there!
Julie: I threw it in the hallway last night, but there’s no way it could’ve gotten all the way down to your bedroom. It’s OK, Nathan; you can just admit that you want it for your own!
Nathan: Ewww, I do not! I already stepped on its stupid nose that was lying in the middle of my bedroom floor!
Julie: [smirking] OK, buddy. Whatever you say.
Michael Doll: [from the distance] Let’s take a ride on my Ferris wheel and eat cupcakes!
[Laughter is heard from another room. Moments later, Ben enters cradling the Michael Doll Jackson doll in his arms. He is grinning broadly, apparently entertained by the doll. Suddenly, the theme music from “Psycho” ensues and the doll’s eyes seem to glow with glee for a split second. Julie gasps.]
Julie: [pointing at the doll madly] Did you…. did you…. did you see what it just did?
Ben: What? This? [pulls on the string]
Michael Doll: Rainbows, daisies, tootsie rolls! Let’s go play on my swing set!
Julie: [looking at Mrs. Greenwald] You saw it, didn’t you?
Mrs. Greenwald: Yes, I saw it talk. I don’t know what you’re getting so worked up about. Can’t you just be happy with your brother’s gift?
Julie: Ben? Please, take it back and exchange it for a sponge leprechaun for all I care!
Ben: Sorry, no refunds on seasonal merchandise. [pointing to Michael Doll’s head] Note the Santa hat!
Julie: I don’t care if you keep that thing until all of the sparkles blind you, but just keep it away from me! [storms away]
Ben: Jeez, if she wanted a repeat of what I got her last year she should have just said so.
Mrs. Greenwald: [pats Ben on the head] It’s OK, dear, I think she’s just going through a phase.
Scene 5
[Julie and her Mom visit Target for some post-holiday shopping. Julie approaches the stacks of Michael Jackson dolls and shudders. She sees an array of varieties of the doll – she sees him in military garb, in a space suit, in swimming trunks, and wearing an exterminator’s suit with a large rat stamped on the front.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Wow, he’s really targeting all audiences, isn’t he?
Julie: Looks like it. God forbid the young exterminators feel excluded, huh?
[The ringing of a cell phone sounds from Mrs. Greenwald’s purse.]
Mrs. Greenwald: [opening the cell phone] Ben?
[Mrs. Greenwald’s face becomes increasingly more disturbed. Her mouth widens in horror as Ben’s indistinguishable voice becomes louder.]
Mrs. Greenwald: [tossing the cell phone back in her purse] We have to go!
Julie: [extremely frightened] Wha-what?
[A huge crash is heard from behind them. As Julie turns around she screams. The Michael Jackson dolls that she had been looking at are no longer in their containers. The lights suddenly blink off and scattered shrieks are heard. A few moments later massive footsteps are heard and dispersed rays from flashlights are seen. Julie looks around and is appalled. An astronaut Michael Jackson is seen floating through the air yelling something about children and sunflowers as a policeman battles the military Michael Jackson. Phrases from the dolls overpower any other noise and Julie and Mrs. Greenwald cover their ears in sheer terror. The lights come on once again.]
Policeman one: I think that’s all of them!
Policeman two: [wiping sweat from his forehead] The one with a rat on its shirt almost got me!
Policeman one: We’d better go; I heard that Wal-Mart has ten times as many. It seems like it’s the kids they’re after.
Policeman two: [nods] OK, People, there’s nothing left to see here. Go back to your homes and don’t let your children out of your sight!
Julie: Mom! Come on, they’re going to hurt Nathan!
[Julie and Mrs. Greenwald are seen running feverishly as the curtain falls.]
Scene 6
[The living room is silent except for the figure of Nathan sitting Indian style, only the back of his head visible. Julie and Mrs. Greenwald enter, extremely disheveled.]
Mrs. Greenwald: Nathan – honey – where’s Ben?
[Nathan is whispering, and then laughs. The theme from “Psycho” once again plays. Slowly, he turns around. His eyes are glowing orange. He is holding the Michael Jackson doll and smiling widely. He points towards the kitchen eerily. A spotlight shines on a partial view of the kitchen that is visible from the doorway. Ben is passed out on the floor, his arms and legs sprawled out in awkward positions.]
Michael Doll: Let’s go play Jacks!
Nathan: [innocently] Mommy, can we buy truck driver Michael?
Mrs. Greenwald: Sure, honey, just put the doll down….slowly…
Nathan: [putting his ear up to the doll] Mommy, Michael wants to talk to you.
[Mrs. Greenwald tears the doll away from her son and brutally steps on it. It tries to retaliate, but it utters only “sugar candy” as it is destroyed. Nathan shrieks, but his eyes stop glowing and he looks around, tremendously confused.]
Julie: My god, and I thought that the growing dinosaur sponge was bad.
Mrs. Greenwald: Next year, how about we stick to gift certificates?
[The prostrate figure of Ben begins to groan and he makes spastic movements. He slowly recovers and they help him up. The lights slowly dim to blackness, and the Christmas tree is the only source of light. The curtain falls. ]
People of the X!
Disclaimer: This is not copying X-Men in anyway, shape or form! In case you can’t read this is called: People of the X! Silly!
It was a beautiful sunny day at the People of the X school for gifted students, or POX school. The team was awoken by a loud bell signaling ‘first period’. You see while these ‘students’ moped around school pretending to learn (some better than others) they were really on the lookout for the RARs (Really Annoying Republicans).
As Phoenix, sporting awesome red hair, scanned the school with fellow ‘Person of the X’ Psylocke, who with her telepathic powers could scan for any conservative thoughts, they discussed their concern about the growing RAR population. For some time now, she had been worried about her current boyfriend Archangel. Could it be he was betraying everything the People of the X stood for? She soon found out that it was Apocalypse (A.K.A. ApocaRussak) who had stolen his wings and turned him into Death. Phoenix and Psylocke decided that they must find ApocaRussak before it was too late.
Not without obstacles did they embark on their quest. First they met up with Calisto, former friend turned RAR. She had been transformed when she began dating one of ApocaRussaks men: Sabastian Shaw (a native of a Kansas nudist camp). They tried to convince her that gun control was the right thing to do and that the environment should take first priority, but it was clear Sabastian had brainwashed this poor soul. Another perfectly good POX had been tainted. Therefore, they had to capture her and send her to the school where she would receive shock therapy as she saw anything to do with Kansas or Nudist Camps.
While Calisto had been an easy match, Phoenix and Psylocke knew they needed help. They quickly found Storm. With her crazy blonde hair (that she CLAIMS her straightening iron won’t flatten) she joined up with the POXs. Even with three though, they were worried. They knew next they must fight Candra: she was such a RAR and she wasn’t even brainwashed. They found Candra relatively quickly. She was spraying cans and cans of hairspray in her hair, CLAIMING it was for looks when everyone knew she was just trying to deplete the Ozone layer and kill as many possible living beings as she could. And as she strutted around in her American Eagle clothes, Psyclocke jumped up and down in digust. This was the last straw. She attacked Candra with all her might, but to no avail. It was she who perished. Candra had her tied up in giant oversized American Eagle jeans. And as she felt her metal powers draining (for it was her cute Abercrombie clothing that gave her power) she called out to Phoenix and Storm in her last breath: Rescue Archangel for me! But beware…. Beware of the Vulcan!
“Who was this Vulcan?” Phoenix wondered, but she had no time to give it too much thought. She had to move on with her quest. They had made it to the RAR headquarters and quickly fought off the incompetent Sabertooth (well mostly it was just Phoenix. Storm couldn’t stop staring at his greasy striped hair. “How did it get so greasy and striped?” she wondered)
As they approached the throne room where AppocaRussak sat, they noticed they were surrounded by huge ‘W’ signs that showed horrible pictures of mining Alaska. “This is wrong,” said Storm. “Very wrong!”
“Well you’ve found my humble abode,” started AppocaRussak. “It only a taste of what I have planned. Once I’ve completely destroyed the environment, I plan to stupidify everyone with horrible grammar and dress them all up in American Eagle clothes! Mwa Ha Ha Ha!”
“But wait! What about Canada!” shouted Phoenix, her voice raising slightly.
“It will perish like the rest!” An evil grin spread across AppocaRussak’s face. Obviously he was pleased with his own evilness.
“We’ll never let you!” shouted Storm!
“You have yet to meet my secret weapon. Enter the Vulcan!”
As a man walked in, around 5’9 with light brown hair and blue eyes, Phoenix was astonished to see that something so good looking could be so conservative and close-minded. She didn’t really care though. She knew that she could save him and make him liberal if she worked really hard. There would just be some excessive shock therapy involved. While Phoenix stood dead in her tracks, Magneta walked in from behind and tackled Storm. Magneta was a very lost and confused mutant. She had recently been put into a concentration camp for being 1/140000000000000000 Jewish and now she felt she needed revenge on the rest of the world. Her scheme: to pretend to be as liberal as possible, then poison everyone with her multi-colored goldfish which she dealt out generously.
Knowing her friends were in trouble Phoenix momentarily forgot about Archangel and brought down Magneta. After that AppoccaRussak was no problem as he was weak and full of him self. Then Phoenix saved Psylocke her was trapped in a block of ice, and brought back Archangel, Calisto, Candra, and of course Vulcan. (She left Magneta because she was so disturbed she was afraid of what the shock therapy might do to her). Finally (once Psylocke was restored of course) Storm, Phoenix, and Psylocke were able to save Archangel and Vulcan who are now active POXs and SUPER GREAT boyfriends. Calisto was of course reconverted back to liberalism and now her only enemy is Terrible Tori who dates this squid man using mind control (he really loves Calisto) and she doesn’t even think about Kansas anymore! (YAY!) They keep Candra tied up in a white room with padded walls (she has to wear all Abercrombie clothing too!).
THE END
It was a beautiful sunny day at the People of the X school for gifted students, or POX school. The team was awoken by a loud bell signaling ‘first period’. You see while these ‘students’ moped around school pretending to learn (some better than others) they were really on the lookout for the RARs (Really Annoying Republicans).
As Phoenix, sporting awesome red hair, scanned the school with fellow ‘Person of the X’ Psylocke, who with her telepathic powers could scan for any conservative thoughts, they discussed their concern about the growing RAR population. For some time now, she had been worried about her current boyfriend Archangel. Could it be he was betraying everything the People of the X stood for? She soon found out that it was Apocalypse (A.K.A. ApocaRussak) who had stolen his wings and turned him into Death. Phoenix and Psylocke decided that they must find ApocaRussak before it was too late.
Not without obstacles did they embark on their quest. First they met up with Calisto, former friend turned RAR. She had been transformed when she began dating one of ApocaRussaks men: Sabastian Shaw (a native of a Kansas nudist camp). They tried to convince her that gun control was the right thing to do and that the environment should take first priority, but it was clear Sabastian had brainwashed this poor soul. Another perfectly good POX had been tainted. Therefore, they had to capture her and send her to the school where she would receive shock therapy as she saw anything to do with Kansas or Nudist Camps.
While Calisto had been an easy match, Phoenix and Psylocke knew they needed help. They quickly found Storm. With her crazy blonde hair (that she CLAIMS her straightening iron won’t flatten) she joined up with the POXs. Even with three though, they were worried. They knew next they must fight Candra: she was such a RAR and she wasn’t even brainwashed. They found Candra relatively quickly. She was spraying cans and cans of hairspray in her hair, CLAIMING it was for looks when everyone knew she was just trying to deplete the Ozone layer and kill as many possible living beings as she could. And as she strutted around in her American Eagle clothes, Psyclocke jumped up and down in digust. This was the last straw. She attacked Candra with all her might, but to no avail. It was she who perished. Candra had her tied up in giant oversized American Eagle jeans. And as she felt her metal powers draining (for it was her cute Abercrombie clothing that gave her power) she called out to Phoenix and Storm in her last breath: Rescue Archangel for me! But beware…. Beware of the Vulcan!
“Who was this Vulcan?” Phoenix wondered, but she had no time to give it too much thought. She had to move on with her quest. They had made it to the RAR headquarters and quickly fought off the incompetent Sabertooth (well mostly it was just Phoenix. Storm couldn’t stop staring at his greasy striped hair. “How did it get so greasy and striped?” she wondered)
As they approached the throne room where AppocaRussak sat, they noticed they were surrounded by huge ‘W’ signs that showed horrible pictures of mining Alaska. “This is wrong,” said Storm. “Very wrong!”
“Well you’ve found my humble abode,” started AppocaRussak. “It only a taste of what I have planned. Once I’ve completely destroyed the environment, I plan to stupidify everyone with horrible grammar and dress them all up in American Eagle clothes! Mwa Ha Ha Ha!”
“But wait! What about Canada!” shouted Phoenix, her voice raising slightly.
“It will perish like the rest!” An evil grin spread across AppocaRussak’s face. Obviously he was pleased with his own evilness.
“We’ll never let you!” shouted Storm!
“You have yet to meet my secret weapon. Enter the Vulcan!”
As a man walked in, around 5’9 with light brown hair and blue eyes, Phoenix was astonished to see that something so good looking could be so conservative and close-minded. She didn’t really care though. She knew that she could save him and make him liberal if she worked really hard. There would just be some excessive shock therapy involved. While Phoenix stood dead in her tracks, Magneta walked in from behind and tackled Storm. Magneta was a very lost and confused mutant. She had recently been put into a concentration camp for being 1/140000000000000000 Jewish and now she felt she needed revenge on the rest of the world. Her scheme: to pretend to be as liberal as possible, then poison everyone with her multi-colored goldfish which she dealt out generously.
Knowing her friends were in trouble Phoenix momentarily forgot about Archangel and brought down Magneta. After that AppoccaRussak was no problem as he was weak and full of him self. Then Phoenix saved Psylocke her was trapped in a block of ice, and brought back Archangel, Calisto, Candra, and of course Vulcan. (She left Magneta because she was so disturbed she was afraid of what the shock therapy might do to her). Finally (once Psylocke was restored of course) Storm, Phoenix, and Psylocke were able to save Archangel and Vulcan who are now active POXs and SUPER GREAT boyfriends. Calisto was of course reconverted back to liberalism and now her only enemy is Terrible Tori who dates this squid man using mind control (he really loves Calisto) and she doesn’t even think about Kansas anymore! (YAY!) They keep Candra tied up in a white room with padded walls (she has to wear all Abercrombie clothing too!).
THE END
It's a Small World After All
Characters:
Lisa Bolden – Middle-aged Disney fanatic; moody
Sally Swann – Another middle-aged Disney fanatic; submissive and a compulsive eater
Edwin Jones – Regular at Disney conventions; a little obsessive and over-energetic
Nick Barber – President of the Official Disney Fan Club
Babette “Babs” Best – Member of the Midwestern Alliance of Disney Fanatics
Scene One – The home of Sally Swann
(Lisa, a petite middle-aged woman with stringy, brown hair waits outside of a small rundown trailer. The trailer is covered with tacky Mickey Mouse lights, and a large technicolor “What Would Mickey Do?” poster hangs on the front door. Lisa taps her foot impatiently until, finally, the door of the trailer creaks open.)
Sally: (smiles timidly while the eight arms attached to her purple outfit jiggle nervously) Sorry I’m late. This costume took forever to put on. The arms kept whacking into things. (she lifts one of the fat purple pool noodles attached to her grotesque purple sweat suit. Her hand releases it unenthusiastically and it hangs limply at her side.) Poor Roger will never be the same (she looks over at a small rabbit scrunched in the corner of the room and sniffs dramatically.)
Lisa: (stuffily) I don’t need your excuses Sally; just don’t let it happen again.
Sally: (eyes Lisa’s Princess Jasmine outfit greedily) (innocently) Your outfit is pretty.
Lisa: Some people are just born to be princesses. (She jangles the bangles crowding her wrist and smiles smugly.) (In a patronizing, saccharine voice) You make a very convincing Ursula, Sally.
Sally: (pouts and pulls a Mickey Mouse shaped cookie out of her oversized ‘Walt Disney World 100th Anniversary Celebration’ purse) But I hate being Ursula. She has a raspy voice and crazy spider hair! (nibbles on Mickey’s ear fretfully)
Lisa: (sternly) Well, I’m sorry that you eat those nasty Mickey Mouse cookies everywhere you go. It’s not my fault that you have the figure of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. (glances at watch busily) Your little feast is making us late for the Convention. You need to come with me now.
(Lisa strides purposefully to her rusty, old Ford. Sally follows obediently, like a well-trained dog, cookie still in hand.)
Scene Two – The Disney Fan Convention
(Sally and Lisa enter into a giant building. Inside are thousands of men, women, and children dressed as various Disney characters. The room is a giant clash of color. Tacky Disney posters and merchandise cover every inch of the walls. In the center of the room is a disgustingly large Mickey Mouse statue.)
Lisa: Doesn’t it feel great to be a part of the largest group of Disney fanatics in the world, Sally? (sighs lovingly) I can already smell the aroma of cheap Disney perfume.
Sally: (Sally’s blue eyes are wide open in wonder) (simply) Look at all the pretty costumes!
(Lisa scans the room approvingly. As her eyes near the giant Mickey Mouse statue, she jumps back in alarm)
Lisa: (in a hushed voice) Edwin is coming.
(Sally’s face flushes white in horror. Both women turn to leave, but are overtaken by Edwin, a small, energetic man dressed as one of the Lion King hyenas. Edwin is waving excitedly and bouncing up and down like a rabbit on crystal meth.)
Edwin: (Edwin’s eyes are shiny with enthusiasm. He begins speaking in an extremely loud, squeaky voice) Well, hello, hello little Miss! (he turns to Sally) Little Missy Dos! (Edwin chuckles at his own bilingual capabilities)
Lisa and Sally: (unenthusiastically) Hello Edwin.
Edwin: How do you ladies like the Convention so far? Isn’t it great? Isn’t it everything you thought it would be and more?
Lisa: It’s great Edwin.
Edwin: (energetically) Come on you guys! It’s practically perfect in every way! (giggles merrily at his Mary Poppins reference) I know it, and you know it!
Sally: (dully) The room sure is - (trails of in silence)
Lisa: (finishing Sally’s sentence) – really, really special.
Edwin: (in an excited high-pitched voice) I know! I decorated the entire ball room! Isn’t it perfect looking? I think we can all agree it is something that Walt would be proud of. (Edwin chokes up for a moment) That wonderful, beautiful, perfect man. I totally asked him on my Ouija board what color shorts he wanted Mickey to have. (gaining momentum, and now slightly out of breath) When the guy first made it, it was WAY orange. Like his pants and everything. And I told the guy, I said: “Guy, this is WAY orange!” And I told him that Disney makes little children smile, so he should redo the shorts the right color because that would make me smile!
Lisa: (sarcastically) That’s great that you’re using a Ouija board to make these kind of important decisions, Edwin.
Edwin: (earnestly) I know. I never make any major decision without consulting Walt’s spirit first. In fact just the other day –
(Edwin is cut off by the President of the Official Disney Fan Club. Lisa and Sally wear expressions of extreme relief. President Nick Barber, a man with greasy black hair, is wearing an elaborate Gaston outfit and raising his hand in the air (while flexing his biceps) in an effort to command the silence of the room)
Nick: Attention loyal Disney maniacs! (pauses for effect) Today, on this joyous celebration of unadulterated Disney worship and devotion, I am here to deliver to you, faithful followers, some terribly, terribly sad news.
(The room is now completely silent. Every single person is staring intently at Nick.)
Nick: (continuing) I know we were all looking forward to the release of The Little Mermaid IV: Ariel Battles the Eskimos, but it appears that the Disney Corporation has decided to keep that little treasure locked safely and securely within the Disney Vault for another ten years.
(The room erupts in angry panic. Lisa throws her Princess Jasmine tiara angrily to the floor. Sally looks as though she is about to cry.)
Nick: (loudly, in an effort to talk over the raging crowd of crazed Disney fans) In light of this information, we will be ending the Conference early. Please help yourself to some Mickey-shaped fruit snacks. They are quite delicious. (Nick hastily exits)
(A riot, started by a man scantily clad in a Peter Pan costume, consumes the Convention. Enraged fans begin to throw chairs at the giant Mickey statue. Edwin is huddled in the corner of the room mumbling over his Ouija board and crying.)
Scene 3 – Lisa’s House
(Lisa and Sally are seated on a large pink and green retro Mickey Mouse print couch. Disney’s classic “Aladdin” is playing on a small nearby television, but neither woman seems able to pay attention.)
Lisa: (while making frantic hand gestures) How could they do this to us? I would have done anything for Disney! I would have given them my first born child! And this is how they repay me?
Sally: I’ve been waiting for The Little Mermaid IV ever since we saw that preview for it during The Lion King 0.003! I was sure it was going to be an instant classic. Kind of like Macaroni and Cheese, except in the form of a classic Disney flick! Because everyone loves Macaroni and Cheese, right Lisa?
Lisa: (hungrily) Where is my damn Prozac? (screeching wildly) I need it NOW!
Sally: (Sally looks nervous before replying) We don’t have any more Prozac.
Lisa: (frantically) What do you mean we don’t have any more Prozac? You know how I get without it!
Sally: We had to sell it so that we could afford that vintage Goofy telephone, remember? It was so pretty and we had to have it.
Lisa: This is just unacceptable. I really want to pummel someone with my bare fists right now; however, I don’t think that would necessarily be appropriate.
Sally: (brightening) We could sing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah! That always makes me feel better!
Lisa: I have a better idea. We are going to find the “vault” and infiltrate it ourselves. Only then can we rest our hands on the shiny cover of a brand new Little Mermaid IV .
Sally: (darkly) But how can we? No one has ever made it out of (eyes narrow) “the vault”. (dramatic pause) At least not alive. Plus, we don’t even know where it is!
Lisa: (in a hushed voice) Listen, Sally, I know I promised that I never would, but from time to time, (pauses hesitantly) I’ve ventured into the Disney Underground.
Sally: (aghast) Lisa! We vowed to each other that we would never go there. You know what goes on there. Disney isn’t pretend to those people. They will cut you.
Lisa: I’m sorry Sally. I’m not gonna lie; I saw things there that I wish I could forget. But this is important. When I was down there, I heard rumors. They say the “vault” is located in the darkest, most barren, isolated corner of the world: Montana. Just think of it, your very own copy of The Little Mermaid IV and any other Disney movie you could ever dream of are just a half dozen states away!
Sally: (worried) I don’t know. Montana is an awfully scary place.
Lisa: Don’t worry. There is a carefully placed network of Disney fanatics all across the country. We won’t have to carry this burden alone. (patting Sally on the shoulder) You just nibble on your commercialized high calorie count cookies and let good ol’ buddy Lisa do all the planning, okay?
Sally: (seems quite assured by this response) Okie Dokie. (pulls out another cookie and eyes it eagerly.)
(Lisa begins to work on her plans for the invasion of the Disney Vault. Sally stuffs cookies voraciously down her mouth like a hungry tiger.)
Scene Four – The Bus Stop of a small West Virginian town
(Lisa and Sally are about to board a large, derelict school bus.)
Sally: (whining) I hate school buses. Bad things always happen in them. Like this one time, in first grade -
Lisa: (interjecting in annoyance) Do me a favor Sally, and don’t talk for the rest of the trip, okay?
Sally: (more whining) But I’m tired, and I’m cold, and my feet hurt!
(Lisa is about to say something, but it is finally their turn to board the bus. The women find their seat on the back of the bus. Sally emits a loud, banshee-like shriek of terror. Lying in the middle of their seat is a piece of paper conspicuously covered in Mickey Mouse stickers. It reads in a childlike scrawl: “I know what you’re trying to do. You better stop or something bad will happen. Real bad.” Lisa and Sally exchange worried glances.)
Sally: How could they possibly know about our plan? We didn’t tell anyone!
Lisa: Don’t question the power of Disney. It’s all-knowing. Plus, it has spies everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is one on this bus right now! (eyes the other passengers suspiciously)
Sally: We’re going to get beat up! I just know it. I’m much too tender for this kind of thing. (her triple chins jiggle nervously)
Lisa: (assuredly) Nonsense! You’re much too fat to feel pain!
Sally: (brightening) Oh, okay.
Lisa: Anyways, we better go over “the plan” now. I think we should memorize it and then maybe you could eat it or something. That way it could never be traced back to us.
(Lisa pulls out an elaborate map of the United States. Various cities are marked with Mickey heads. A large skull sticker is planted over the state of Montana.)
Lisa: (to Sally) Every place that you see a Mickey sticker is a safe house for Disney fans. The bus will take us as far as Iowa (Lisa points at Iowa, designated by a large corn sticker). Babs agreed to take us in for a night there.
Sally: Isn’t Babs the one with Pocahontas tattooed on her forehead?
Lisa: Yes. I love that tattoo and I think I would stab my own mother for it.
Sally: (dreamily) Me too.
(Lisa sits silently in thought. Sally devours the map)
Scene Five – Babs’s House
(Corn surrounds the small house on all sides. Babs is waiting for Sally and Lisa as they approach her home. She has an unpleasant scowl on her face.)
Babs: (irate) What is the meaning of this? (Babs holds a piece of paper in the air. On the paper is a large picture of Elvis with a giant red ‘X’ crossed over his face. Scribbled across the top of the paper are the words: “You’re Next!”)
Sally: Maybe he’s advertising for his next concert!
Lisa: (sardonically) Elvis is dead, you moron.
(Sally eyes widen in a mixture of disbelief and horror.)
Babs: I want to know why someone is leaving threatening dead Elvis pictures on my front porch and I want to know now!
Lisa: (in a fake, surprised voice) I have no idea, Babs! And it really hurts me that you think I would have something to do with it!
Babs: (skeptically) Well, what’s in Montana? You never told me.
Sally: (in between bites of cookies) The Disney vault.
Lisa: You fat retard! This is why I never let you be a princess!
Babs: Are you two crazy? What would make you think that you could ever break into the Disney vault? (suspiciously) Are there drugs in those cookies?
Sally: (cradles the cookies protectively) We can’t afford drugs anymore!
(Babs doesn’t know how to respond to this remark, and instead turns to leave.)
Lisa: Listen Babs, we want The Little Mermaid IV. We want it real bad. Just help us out for one night, okay?
Babs: I will help you out for one night. But I swear on my Pocahontas tattoo, not a day more!
Scene Six – Babs’s Kitchen
(Sally enters the quaint kitchen in search of an early morning snack. Instead she finds Babs’s drugged body sprawled out on the floor. There is a message taped to her “Be True to Your Heart” Tarzan nightgown that reads: “This is only the beginning if you don’t do what we want!”)
Sally: (screaming) Lisa! You better get down here quick! Babs’s cold, lifeless body is on the kitchen floor!
(Lisa hastily runs down the stairs of the house and enters the kitchen. She observes Babs and then turns towards Sally.)
Lisa: Did you knock her out by accident? This kitchen is a little small and you’re a lot bigger than you think!
Sally: I swear I just found her like this. I think they did it! Look what’s taped to her pajamas!
Lisa: (rubs her hands together greedily) We must be getting really close. They’re getting nervous.
Sally: I think we should turn back. I don’t even want The Little Mermaid IV anymore!
Lisa: Listen to yourself, Sally! You don’t even know what you’re saying! Are you really going to let them rob you of the one think you have been desperately craving for the past three months? Are you going to let them steal your only chance to see Ariel beat up evil, carnivorous Eskimos?
Sally: (Sally thinks silently for a moment and then replies defiantly) NO! I’m not gonna take this anymore!
Lisa: Good girl. Now we better get going. I have plans to reach Montana by nightfall.
Scene Seven – An abandoned train station in Montana
(Lisa and Sally are the only passengers exiting from an old, iron train at the station. Sally points excitedly at a sign that reads: “Welcome to Montana”. The surrounding area is deserted flat land smothered in several feet of snow.)
Sally: (affectionately) I’ve always wanted to live in Montana. Home to the freshest air these nostrils have ever sniffed.
Lisa: And absolutely nothing else.
(Sally appears moderately offended, but a small tuft of wild daisies attract her attention.)
Lisa: Hurry up Sally. We don’t have time to admire the scenery. The vault is so close now, I can taste it. (Lisa licks her lips demonstratively)
Sally: Well, what does it look like? How are we supposed to know when we’ve found it?
Lisa: We’ll have to use our highly tuned Disney intuition. No doubt the vault will be extremely well hidden and protected.
(Lisa and Sally walk down a deserted dirt road, passing only farms and gun clubs. Then in the distance, a large, looming cave in the shape of a roaring tiger emerges.)
Sally: (pointing animatedly) Look! Just like in Aladdin!
Lisa: (bitterly) Yes, its all very original and subtle.
Sally: Who spoiled your sack of apples? We found the vault, didn’t we?
Lisa: I just thought that it might be a little bit more of a challenge.
Sally: Well, I’m sure its booby trapped or something. After all, there were all kinds of little tricks, and traps, and magic carpets and other stuff like that in Aladdin.
Lisa: (despairingly) I guess.
(Sally and Lisa approach the base of the vault. When they are within a foot of the tiger’s open mouth it suddenly moves. Sally squeals delightfully as it begins to talk. In a loud thunderous voice it asks: “What is Walt Disney’s least favorite color?”)
Sally: (jumps about excitedly before answering) It’s orange! He hates the color orange!
(The tiger’s mouth immediately opens. Sally appears to be living a lifelong fantasy. Lisa has a scowl on her face and follows Sally grudgingly inside. Inside the vault are stacks upon stacks of glossy cased Disney DVDs. Sally gleefully skips around the room from one DVD to another. Nonplussed by the trove of Disney artifacts and all the free DVDs you can shake a stick at, Lisa stands stubbornly in place.)
Lisa: (unhappily) That was ridiculously easy. Whoever set up this security must have had either a very small brain, or a very large brain tumor.
Edwin: (delightfully) Hello little misses!
(Sally and Lisa turn in horror to find Edwin standing calmly amidst the never-ending halls of the vault. He is dressed as Jafar, complete with robe, hat, and hypnotic serpent staff.)
Edwin: I see you’ve discovered my little secret.
Lisa: (in a tone mixed with confusion and horror) Edwin! What are you doing here?
Edwin: I live here you silly little thing.
Lisa: What do you mean you live here?
Edwin: I run the entire Disney Corporation from right here in this vault.
Sally: (in injured tone) So you were the one who was sending us all of those mean messages?
Edwin: (proudly) Yep! And I spelled all the words right and everything. (coolly) You guys thought I was so stupid, and all the while I was controlling everything with this (he lifts the hypnotic serpent staff), my sweet, precious little baby.
Lisa: (confusedly) What exactly is that?
Edwin: (giggles ruthlessly) You two are even more silly than I thought! (Edwin twists his fake Jafar goatee in thought.) I suppose there would be no problem in telling you the truth now. (he pauses dramatically) During my early years in college I developed an elaborate thesis statement concerning origin of Walt Disney. My quest for knowledge led me to one conclusion: Walt Disney was half alien.
(Lisa coughs loudly and circles her finger next to her head, signifying that Edwin is without a doubt quite a few cards short of a full deck.)
Edwin: (irritably) Stop making fun of me! You can’t make me feel bad about myself anymore! (he thrusts his staff deep into the pit of Lisa’s stomach with surprising force.) I’m not lying! This staff contains the only remaining piece of Walt Disney’s hair and with it I can control all of his quarter-alien offspring! They use there brilliant extraterrestrial brain power to come up with the amazing ideas for all of our Disney sequels.
Sally: (resentfully) Yeah, and who came up with the brilliant idea to keep The Little Mermaid IV away from the eyes of its adoring public? Did your little alien friends think that one up too?
Edwin: (spitefully) That was my idea. I had to redirect the budget of the movie (pauses) elsewhere. Unfortunately, I never suspected that you would actually make it as far as you have. And now that you know my secret, I can’t let you ever leave the Disney Vault. (emphatically) Ever. Now if you’ll both follow me –
Lisa: (sarcastically) Sure, I’ll follow you Edwin. And I’ll start talking to Ouija boards too, while I’m at it.
Edwin: I do not appreciate that tone Little Miss Sarcasm. Disney is a sarcasm-free community in case you haven’t noticed! Now you’ve made me angry, and I think I might do something unexpected. (Ethan waves the serpent staff dramatically in the air. It begins to emit a eerie, odious version of “If You Wish Upon a Star.”)
(Loud shuffling feet can be heard from down the dark halls of the vault. Slowly five middle-aged men march out in procession. One of them appears to be Barry Manilow.)
Edwin: (proudly) These are Walt’s children, and each and every one of them has the power to destroy you into a zillion teeny tiny pieces of nothing.
Sally: (excitedly pointing at Barry) Isn’t that Barry Manilow?
Edwin: Now you see why it was so imperative to eliminate Elvis. (giggling) I got him right in the back of the head with my staff. Barry was very pleased.
Lisa: I don’t believe any of this.
Edwin: Well believe it, sister! All of Walt’s kids became prominent, well-known public figures. (Wagging his finger at the chubbiest of the men) This is Charlie Bell, the CEO of McDonalds.
Sally: (mouth watering) McDonalds?
Edwin: Of course! Did you think Disney would sponsor other corporations for no reason? And Disney really donates money to starving children in Africa? And Santa Claus is real, and they all lived happily ever after?
(Sally nods head vigorously)
Edwin: I used to believe in things like that Sally; that is, until I learned “the truth.” (staring at Sally sadly) We are alike you and me. I really am truly sorry for what I am about to do.
Sally: You are a horrible man! I loved Disney with all of my heart, but I guess now the only people I can really trust are Lisa, myself, and Oprah.
Edwin: We own Oprah, you fat fool!
Lisa: (aghast) No! Not Oprah!
Edwin: I’ve had enough of this.
(Edwin whistles to Barry and Charlie who grab Sally and Lisa firmly by the arms. Lisa struggles madly, but Barry has a surprisingly strong grip. Edwin leads the group to a dark, shadowy corner of the vault. They soon realize that they are in front of an exact replica of the “It’s a Small World After All” ride.)
Edwin: For the past five years I have been cutting the production budget from Disney movies and building myself my own personal “Small World After All” ride, which is my absolute favorite ride of all time. Although the Tiki Tiki Room is a close second.
Lisa: (coldy) You disgust me.
Edwin: (ignoring Lisa’s comment) This ride is the happiest place on Earth, and it is also where you and your fat little friend will spend the rest of your lives, riding around and around and around in a small wooden canoe while listening to this wonderfully catchy tune over and over again.
(Edwin knocks Sally into the canoe with his staff and then pushes Lisa in with his round, chubby fists. Luckily Sally cushions Lisa’s fall. The ride begins and techno remix version of “It’s a Small World After All” begins to play. As the boat begins to move Lisa and Sally realize with revulsion that every single doll is a perfect miniature copy of Edwin.)
The End
Lisa Bolden – Middle-aged Disney fanatic; moody
Sally Swann – Another middle-aged Disney fanatic; submissive and a compulsive eater
Edwin Jones – Regular at Disney conventions; a little obsessive and over-energetic
Nick Barber – President of the Official Disney Fan Club
Babette “Babs” Best – Member of the Midwestern Alliance of Disney Fanatics
Scene One – The home of Sally Swann
(Lisa, a petite middle-aged woman with stringy, brown hair waits outside of a small rundown trailer. The trailer is covered with tacky Mickey Mouse lights, and a large technicolor “What Would Mickey Do?” poster hangs on the front door. Lisa taps her foot impatiently until, finally, the door of the trailer creaks open.)
Sally: (smiles timidly while the eight arms attached to her purple outfit jiggle nervously) Sorry I’m late. This costume took forever to put on. The arms kept whacking into things. (she lifts one of the fat purple pool noodles attached to her grotesque purple sweat suit. Her hand releases it unenthusiastically and it hangs limply at her side.) Poor Roger will never be the same (she looks over at a small rabbit scrunched in the corner of the room and sniffs dramatically.)
Lisa: (stuffily) I don’t need your excuses Sally; just don’t let it happen again.
Sally: (eyes Lisa’s Princess Jasmine outfit greedily) (innocently) Your outfit is pretty.
Lisa: Some people are just born to be princesses. (She jangles the bangles crowding her wrist and smiles smugly.) (In a patronizing, saccharine voice) You make a very convincing Ursula, Sally.
Sally: (pouts and pulls a Mickey Mouse shaped cookie out of her oversized ‘Walt Disney World 100th Anniversary Celebration’ purse) But I hate being Ursula. She has a raspy voice and crazy spider hair! (nibbles on Mickey’s ear fretfully)
Lisa: (sternly) Well, I’m sorry that you eat those nasty Mickey Mouse cookies everywhere you go. It’s not my fault that you have the figure of the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man. (glances at watch busily) Your little feast is making us late for the Convention. You need to come with me now.
(Lisa strides purposefully to her rusty, old Ford. Sally follows obediently, like a well-trained dog, cookie still in hand.)
Scene Two – The Disney Fan Convention
(Sally and Lisa enter into a giant building. Inside are thousands of men, women, and children dressed as various Disney characters. The room is a giant clash of color. Tacky Disney posters and merchandise cover every inch of the walls. In the center of the room is a disgustingly large Mickey Mouse statue.)
Lisa: Doesn’t it feel great to be a part of the largest group of Disney fanatics in the world, Sally? (sighs lovingly) I can already smell the aroma of cheap Disney perfume.
Sally: (Sally’s blue eyes are wide open in wonder) (simply) Look at all the pretty costumes!
(Lisa scans the room approvingly. As her eyes near the giant Mickey Mouse statue, she jumps back in alarm)
Lisa: (in a hushed voice) Edwin is coming.
(Sally’s face flushes white in horror. Both women turn to leave, but are overtaken by Edwin, a small, energetic man dressed as one of the Lion King hyenas. Edwin is waving excitedly and bouncing up and down like a rabbit on crystal meth.)
Edwin: (Edwin’s eyes are shiny with enthusiasm. He begins speaking in an extremely loud, squeaky voice) Well, hello, hello little Miss! (he turns to Sally) Little Missy Dos! (Edwin chuckles at his own bilingual capabilities)
Lisa and Sally: (unenthusiastically) Hello Edwin.
Edwin: How do you ladies like the Convention so far? Isn’t it great? Isn’t it everything you thought it would be and more?
Lisa: It’s great Edwin.
Edwin: (energetically) Come on you guys! It’s practically perfect in every way! (giggles merrily at his Mary Poppins reference) I know it, and you know it!
Sally: (dully) The room sure is - (trails of in silence)
Lisa: (finishing Sally’s sentence) – really, really special.
Edwin: (in an excited high-pitched voice) I know! I decorated the entire ball room! Isn’t it perfect looking? I think we can all agree it is something that Walt would be proud of. (Edwin chokes up for a moment) That wonderful, beautiful, perfect man. I totally asked him on my Ouija board what color shorts he wanted Mickey to have. (gaining momentum, and now slightly out of breath) When the guy first made it, it was WAY orange. Like his pants and everything. And I told the guy, I said: “Guy, this is WAY orange!” And I told him that Disney makes little children smile, so he should redo the shorts the right color because that would make me smile!
Lisa: (sarcastically) That’s great that you’re using a Ouija board to make these kind of important decisions, Edwin.
Edwin: (earnestly) I know. I never make any major decision without consulting Walt’s spirit first. In fact just the other day –
(Edwin is cut off by the President of the Official Disney Fan Club. Lisa and Sally wear expressions of extreme relief. President Nick Barber, a man with greasy black hair, is wearing an elaborate Gaston outfit and raising his hand in the air (while flexing his biceps) in an effort to command the silence of the room)
Nick: Attention loyal Disney maniacs! (pauses for effect) Today, on this joyous celebration of unadulterated Disney worship and devotion, I am here to deliver to you, faithful followers, some terribly, terribly sad news.
(The room is now completely silent. Every single person is staring intently at Nick.)
Nick: (continuing) I know we were all looking forward to the release of The Little Mermaid IV: Ariel Battles the Eskimos, but it appears that the Disney Corporation has decided to keep that little treasure locked safely and securely within the Disney Vault for another ten years.
(The room erupts in angry panic. Lisa throws her Princess Jasmine tiara angrily to the floor. Sally looks as though she is about to cry.)
Nick: (loudly, in an effort to talk over the raging crowd of crazed Disney fans) In light of this information, we will be ending the Conference early. Please help yourself to some Mickey-shaped fruit snacks. They are quite delicious. (Nick hastily exits)
(A riot, started by a man scantily clad in a Peter Pan costume, consumes the Convention. Enraged fans begin to throw chairs at the giant Mickey statue. Edwin is huddled in the corner of the room mumbling over his Ouija board and crying.)
Scene 3 – Lisa’s House
(Lisa and Sally are seated on a large pink and green retro Mickey Mouse print couch. Disney’s classic “Aladdin” is playing on a small nearby television, but neither woman seems able to pay attention.)
Lisa: (while making frantic hand gestures) How could they do this to us? I would have done anything for Disney! I would have given them my first born child! And this is how they repay me?
Sally: I’ve been waiting for The Little Mermaid IV ever since we saw that preview for it during The Lion King 0.003! I was sure it was going to be an instant classic. Kind of like Macaroni and Cheese, except in the form of a classic Disney flick! Because everyone loves Macaroni and Cheese, right Lisa?
Lisa: (hungrily) Where is my damn Prozac? (screeching wildly) I need it NOW!
Sally: (Sally looks nervous before replying) We don’t have any more Prozac.
Lisa: (frantically) What do you mean we don’t have any more Prozac? You know how I get without it!
Sally: We had to sell it so that we could afford that vintage Goofy telephone, remember? It was so pretty and we had to have it.
Lisa: This is just unacceptable. I really want to pummel someone with my bare fists right now; however, I don’t think that would necessarily be appropriate.
Sally: (brightening) We could sing Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah! That always makes me feel better!
Lisa: I have a better idea. We are going to find the “vault” and infiltrate it ourselves. Only then can we rest our hands on the shiny cover of a brand new Little Mermaid IV .
Sally: (darkly) But how can we? No one has ever made it out of (eyes narrow) “the vault”. (dramatic pause) At least not alive. Plus, we don’t even know where it is!
Lisa: (in a hushed voice) Listen, Sally, I know I promised that I never would, but from time to time, (pauses hesitantly) I’ve ventured into the Disney Underground.
Sally: (aghast) Lisa! We vowed to each other that we would never go there. You know what goes on there. Disney isn’t pretend to those people. They will cut you.
Lisa: I’m sorry Sally. I’m not gonna lie; I saw things there that I wish I could forget. But this is important. When I was down there, I heard rumors. They say the “vault” is located in the darkest, most barren, isolated corner of the world: Montana. Just think of it, your very own copy of The Little Mermaid IV and any other Disney movie you could ever dream of are just a half dozen states away!
Sally: (worried) I don’t know. Montana is an awfully scary place.
Lisa: Don’t worry. There is a carefully placed network of Disney fanatics all across the country. We won’t have to carry this burden alone. (patting Sally on the shoulder) You just nibble on your commercialized high calorie count cookies and let good ol’ buddy Lisa do all the planning, okay?
Sally: (seems quite assured by this response) Okie Dokie. (pulls out another cookie and eyes it eagerly.)
(Lisa begins to work on her plans for the invasion of the Disney Vault. Sally stuffs cookies voraciously down her mouth like a hungry tiger.)
Scene Four – The Bus Stop of a small West Virginian town
(Lisa and Sally are about to board a large, derelict school bus.)
Sally: (whining) I hate school buses. Bad things always happen in them. Like this one time, in first grade -
Lisa: (interjecting in annoyance) Do me a favor Sally, and don’t talk for the rest of the trip, okay?
Sally: (more whining) But I’m tired, and I’m cold, and my feet hurt!
(Lisa is about to say something, but it is finally their turn to board the bus. The women find their seat on the back of the bus. Sally emits a loud, banshee-like shriek of terror. Lying in the middle of their seat is a piece of paper conspicuously covered in Mickey Mouse stickers. It reads in a childlike scrawl: “I know what you’re trying to do. You better stop or something bad will happen. Real bad.” Lisa and Sally exchange worried glances.)
Sally: How could they possibly know about our plan? We didn’t tell anyone!
Lisa: Don’t question the power of Disney. It’s all-knowing. Plus, it has spies everywhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is one on this bus right now! (eyes the other passengers suspiciously)
Sally: We’re going to get beat up! I just know it. I’m much too tender for this kind of thing. (her triple chins jiggle nervously)
Lisa: (assuredly) Nonsense! You’re much too fat to feel pain!
Sally: (brightening) Oh, okay.
Lisa: Anyways, we better go over “the plan” now. I think we should memorize it and then maybe you could eat it or something. That way it could never be traced back to us.
(Lisa pulls out an elaborate map of the United States. Various cities are marked with Mickey heads. A large skull sticker is planted over the state of Montana.)
Lisa: (to Sally) Every place that you see a Mickey sticker is a safe house for Disney fans. The bus will take us as far as Iowa (Lisa points at Iowa, designated by a large corn sticker). Babs agreed to take us in for a night there.
Sally: Isn’t Babs the one with Pocahontas tattooed on her forehead?
Lisa: Yes. I love that tattoo and I think I would stab my own mother for it.
Sally: (dreamily) Me too.
(Lisa sits silently in thought. Sally devours the map)
Scene Five – Babs’s House
(Corn surrounds the small house on all sides. Babs is waiting for Sally and Lisa as they approach her home. She has an unpleasant scowl on her face.)
Babs: (irate) What is the meaning of this? (Babs holds a piece of paper in the air. On the paper is a large picture of Elvis with a giant red ‘X’ crossed over his face. Scribbled across the top of the paper are the words: “You’re Next!”)
Sally: Maybe he’s advertising for his next concert!
Lisa: (sardonically) Elvis is dead, you moron.
(Sally eyes widen in a mixture of disbelief and horror.)
Babs: I want to know why someone is leaving threatening dead Elvis pictures on my front porch and I want to know now!
Lisa: (in a fake, surprised voice) I have no idea, Babs! And it really hurts me that you think I would have something to do with it!
Babs: (skeptically) Well, what’s in Montana? You never told me.
Sally: (in between bites of cookies) The Disney vault.
Lisa: You fat retard! This is why I never let you be a princess!
Babs: Are you two crazy? What would make you think that you could ever break into the Disney vault? (suspiciously) Are there drugs in those cookies?
Sally: (cradles the cookies protectively) We can’t afford drugs anymore!
(Babs doesn’t know how to respond to this remark, and instead turns to leave.)
Lisa: Listen Babs, we want The Little Mermaid IV. We want it real bad. Just help us out for one night, okay?
Babs: I will help you out for one night. But I swear on my Pocahontas tattoo, not a day more!
Scene Six – Babs’s Kitchen
(Sally enters the quaint kitchen in search of an early morning snack. Instead she finds Babs’s drugged body sprawled out on the floor. There is a message taped to her “Be True to Your Heart” Tarzan nightgown that reads: “This is only the beginning if you don’t do what we want!”)
Sally: (screaming) Lisa! You better get down here quick! Babs’s cold, lifeless body is on the kitchen floor!
(Lisa hastily runs down the stairs of the house and enters the kitchen. She observes Babs and then turns towards Sally.)
Lisa: Did you knock her out by accident? This kitchen is a little small and you’re a lot bigger than you think!
Sally: I swear I just found her like this. I think they did it! Look what’s taped to her pajamas!
Lisa: (rubs her hands together greedily) We must be getting really close. They’re getting nervous.
Sally: I think we should turn back. I don’t even want The Little Mermaid IV anymore!
Lisa: Listen to yourself, Sally! You don’t even know what you’re saying! Are you really going to let them rob you of the one think you have been desperately craving for the past three months? Are you going to let them steal your only chance to see Ariel beat up evil, carnivorous Eskimos?
Sally: (Sally thinks silently for a moment and then replies defiantly) NO! I’m not gonna take this anymore!
Lisa: Good girl. Now we better get going. I have plans to reach Montana by nightfall.
Scene Seven – An abandoned train station in Montana
(Lisa and Sally are the only passengers exiting from an old, iron train at the station. Sally points excitedly at a sign that reads: “Welcome to Montana”. The surrounding area is deserted flat land smothered in several feet of snow.)
Sally: (affectionately) I’ve always wanted to live in Montana. Home to the freshest air these nostrils have ever sniffed.
Lisa: And absolutely nothing else.
(Sally appears moderately offended, but a small tuft of wild daisies attract her attention.)
Lisa: Hurry up Sally. We don’t have time to admire the scenery. The vault is so close now, I can taste it. (Lisa licks her lips demonstratively)
Sally: Well, what does it look like? How are we supposed to know when we’ve found it?
Lisa: We’ll have to use our highly tuned Disney intuition. No doubt the vault will be extremely well hidden and protected.
(Lisa and Sally walk down a deserted dirt road, passing only farms and gun clubs. Then in the distance, a large, looming cave in the shape of a roaring tiger emerges.)
Sally: (pointing animatedly) Look! Just like in Aladdin!
Lisa: (bitterly) Yes, its all very original and subtle.
Sally: Who spoiled your sack of apples? We found the vault, didn’t we?
Lisa: I just thought that it might be a little bit more of a challenge.
Sally: Well, I’m sure its booby trapped or something. After all, there were all kinds of little tricks, and traps, and magic carpets and other stuff like that in Aladdin.
Lisa: (despairingly) I guess.
(Sally and Lisa approach the base of the vault. When they are within a foot of the tiger’s open mouth it suddenly moves. Sally squeals delightfully as it begins to talk. In a loud thunderous voice it asks: “What is Walt Disney’s least favorite color?”)
Sally: (jumps about excitedly before answering) It’s orange! He hates the color orange!
(The tiger’s mouth immediately opens. Sally appears to be living a lifelong fantasy. Lisa has a scowl on her face and follows Sally grudgingly inside. Inside the vault are stacks upon stacks of glossy cased Disney DVDs. Sally gleefully skips around the room from one DVD to another. Nonplussed by the trove of Disney artifacts and all the free DVDs you can shake a stick at, Lisa stands stubbornly in place.)
Lisa: (unhappily) That was ridiculously easy. Whoever set up this security must have had either a very small brain, or a very large brain tumor.
Edwin: (delightfully) Hello little misses!
(Sally and Lisa turn in horror to find Edwin standing calmly amidst the never-ending halls of the vault. He is dressed as Jafar, complete with robe, hat, and hypnotic serpent staff.)
Edwin: I see you’ve discovered my little secret.
Lisa: (in a tone mixed with confusion and horror) Edwin! What are you doing here?
Edwin: I live here you silly little thing.
Lisa: What do you mean you live here?
Edwin: I run the entire Disney Corporation from right here in this vault.
Sally: (in injured tone) So you were the one who was sending us all of those mean messages?
Edwin: (proudly) Yep! And I spelled all the words right and everything. (coolly) You guys thought I was so stupid, and all the while I was controlling everything with this (he lifts the hypnotic serpent staff), my sweet, precious little baby.
Lisa: (confusedly) What exactly is that?
Edwin: (giggles ruthlessly) You two are even more silly than I thought! (Edwin twists his fake Jafar goatee in thought.) I suppose there would be no problem in telling you the truth now. (he pauses dramatically) During my early years in college I developed an elaborate thesis statement concerning origin of Walt Disney. My quest for knowledge led me to one conclusion: Walt Disney was half alien.
(Lisa coughs loudly and circles her finger next to her head, signifying that Edwin is without a doubt quite a few cards short of a full deck.)
Edwin: (irritably) Stop making fun of me! You can’t make me feel bad about myself anymore! (he thrusts his staff deep into the pit of Lisa’s stomach with surprising force.) I’m not lying! This staff contains the only remaining piece of Walt Disney’s hair and with it I can control all of his quarter-alien offspring! They use there brilliant extraterrestrial brain power to come up with the amazing ideas for all of our Disney sequels.
Sally: (resentfully) Yeah, and who came up with the brilliant idea to keep The Little Mermaid IV away from the eyes of its adoring public? Did your little alien friends think that one up too?
Edwin: (spitefully) That was my idea. I had to redirect the budget of the movie (pauses) elsewhere. Unfortunately, I never suspected that you would actually make it as far as you have. And now that you know my secret, I can’t let you ever leave the Disney Vault. (emphatically) Ever. Now if you’ll both follow me –
Lisa: (sarcastically) Sure, I’ll follow you Edwin. And I’ll start talking to Ouija boards too, while I’m at it.
Edwin: I do not appreciate that tone Little Miss Sarcasm. Disney is a sarcasm-free community in case you haven’t noticed! Now you’ve made me angry, and I think I might do something unexpected. (Ethan waves the serpent staff dramatically in the air. It begins to emit a eerie, odious version of “If You Wish Upon a Star.”)
(Loud shuffling feet can be heard from down the dark halls of the vault. Slowly five middle-aged men march out in procession. One of them appears to be Barry Manilow.)
Edwin: (proudly) These are Walt’s children, and each and every one of them has the power to destroy you into a zillion teeny tiny pieces of nothing.
Sally: (excitedly pointing at Barry) Isn’t that Barry Manilow?
Edwin: Now you see why it was so imperative to eliminate Elvis. (giggling) I got him right in the back of the head with my staff. Barry was very pleased.
Lisa: I don’t believe any of this.
Edwin: Well believe it, sister! All of Walt’s kids became prominent, well-known public figures. (Wagging his finger at the chubbiest of the men) This is Charlie Bell, the CEO of McDonalds.
Sally: (mouth watering) McDonalds?
Edwin: Of course! Did you think Disney would sponsor other corporations for no reason? And Disney really donates money to starving children in Africa? And Santa Claus is real, and they all lived happily ever after?
(Sally nods head vigorously)
Edwin: I used to believe in things like that Sally; that is, until I learned “the truth.” (staring at Sally sadly) We are alike you and me. I really am truly sorry for what I am about to do.
Sally: You are a horrible man! I loved Disney with all of my heart, but I guess now the only people I can really trust are Lisa, myself, and Oprah.
Edwin: We own Oprah, you fat fool!
Lisa: (aghast) No! Not Oprah!
Edwin: I’ve had enough of this.
(Edwin whistles to Barry and Charlie who grab Sally and Lisa firmly by the arms. Lisa struggles madly, but Barry has a surprisingly strong grip. Edwin leads the group to a dark, shadowy corner of the vault. They soon realize that they are in front of an exact replica of the “It’s a Small World After All” ride.)
Edwin: For the past five years I have been cutting the production budget from Disney movies and building myself my own personal “Small World After All” ride, which is my absolute favorite ride of all time. Although the Tiki Tiki Room is a close second.
Lisa: (coldy) You disgust me.
Edwin: (ignoring Lisa’s comment) This ride is the happiest place on Earth, and it is also where you and your fat little friend will spend the rest of your lives, riding around and around and around in a small wooden canoe while listening to this wonderfully catchy tune over and over again.
(Edwin knocks Sally into the canoe with his staff and then pushes Lisa in with his round, chubby fists. Luckily Sally cushions Lisa’s fall. The ride begins and techno remix version of “It’s a Small World After All” begins to play. As the boat begins to move Lisa and Sally realize with revulsion that every single doll is a perfect miniature copy of Edwin.)
The End
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