You mess with Harpo Marx, you get the horns.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Fives Times the Play

It's what America has been requesting--nay, demanding--and who am I to resist the clamoring of hundreds upon thousands of people? At your request, America, I have finally completed the five act dramatic masterpiece Five Times: The Play, a magnum opus covering my entire life from birth to approximately thirty minutes ago. An open casting call will take place soon (fingers crossed), if I can ever get the owners of that coffee house to call me back. Personally, I am holding out for my part to be played by Mark Northover, but we'll see what happens.

Anyway, here is a sneak peak, pretty much the deliciousest tidbit of Off Broadway magic in the history of time. This is from Act Two, scene 3, a dramatic encounter between Mrs. Pectlasisty and myself, Nuffy Noe (envision my part as portrayed by none other than Mr. Mark Northover, please). As our scene opens, it is the first day of class, Third Grade, Rountree Elementary School (where roadrunners run and marigolds bloom, the live oaks grow, and the people do, too).



INT CLASSROOM -- DAY

(Nuffy Noe, youngish, already rogueishly handsome, Five Times better than any other kid in the school, enters the classroom. He is confronted by his teacher, the mole-laden tanless Pectlasisty).

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- Welcome to Third Grade. What is your name, please?

Nuffy Noe -- Nuffy.

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- Nuffy? Okay. (She makes an unnecessarily intricate checkmark on a page of notebook paper) And please tell me your last name.

Nuffy Noe -- Noe.

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- (her rectangularish head swings up) I said please tell me your last name.

Nuffy Noe -- Noe.

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- (eyes narrow so completely that they disappear inside her cranium) Don't you get smart with me, youngish man, not on the first day of class. That is a recipe for armageddon and the dissipation of man! I said tell me your last name! I don't want to hear "NO" from you ever again, or by all the sacredest gods of the Celtic pantheon, I will unleash St. Elmo's fire upon thee! What is your last name?!

Nuffy Noe -- Noe.

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- *SCREAM* (She flings her piece of notebook paper so violently at the floor that the corner of it embeds in the concrete) You go to the principal's Slap Chamber right now! Right now!

Nuffy Noe -- No, I just said Noe, you know, because Noe is my name, not No, don't you know? No? Well, I reiterate, it's Noe.

Mrs. Pectlasisty -- (thrusts her fists skyward) By the lustful wrath of Abellio, Celtic god of apple trees, I can't take it! I SHAN'T TAKE IT!

(Mrs. Pectlasisty implodes, disappearing from the universe with a loud POP and a whoosh of air. Nuffy quietly takes his seat, basking in his Five Times Betterness.)

Exeunt.


Man, that scene right there is what we call in the trade the Tony Moment. Mark Northover will no doubt smash it out of the ballpark. There are still some details to work out, though, before it begins playing at the Neil Simon Theater, such as whether or not we will only allow people who are at least Two Times Better to actually purchase tickets and see the play. I hear that's what they did with the all-male Swan Lake, and they had rousing success with that one, on account of it was, like, swans and, like, all men, and the libretto was written, if my sources are correct, by none other than Felbentheil Walhdehl IV.


I will post the entirety of the play, all three hundred pages of it, as soon as I can get that Earl Fando guy to look the other way. Begin mentally preparing for the lovely Ben Jonson-ish qualities of it, even now!

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