[Reposted from Snark & Son, Inc.]
Previous installments: Act I, Act II
Act III: The Barrière d'Enfer, a toll-gate on the outskirts of Paris. There's also a tavern because everyone in this opera is always drunk. It's some time around the ass-crack of dawn.
Street Sweepers: OPEN THE GATE WE'RE FREEZING OUR NUTS OFF
Toll-Gate Guy: Calm your tits, I'll be there in a minute.
Women in the Tavern: SOMETHING SOMETHING LOVE SONG
Musetta: HEY DO YOU GUYS RECOGNIZE THIS MELODY
The Audience: Yeah, it's your aria from Act II. Do you want a medal or something?
Men in the Tavern: SOMETHING SOMETHING DRINKING SONG
The Audience: So, wait. It's already Act III and no one's dead yet? What the hell kind of opera is this?
Milkmaids: Hey girl haaaaaaaaay
Toll-Gate Guy: Oh I am so sick of these bitches.
[Toll-Gate Guy checks the contents of everyone's baskets as they come through the gate.]
Milkmaids: CHICKEN AND EGGS
The Audience: Yes Puccini thank you for this little slice of life NOW CAN SOMETHING INTERESTING HAPPEN
The Orchestra: MI CHIAMANO MIIIIMIIIIIIIIIII
The Audience: Finally.
[Mimi enters, looking sickly, and approaches the Other Toll-Gate Guy.]
Mimi: Hey, I'm looking for a tavern where a painter works. Little help?
Other Toll-Gate Guy: This is Paris, you dumb slut. Literally every tavern in the city has at least one painter.
Mimi: This one's named Marcello.
Other Toll-Gate Guy: Not ringing any bells.
Mimi: Studly baritone? Hangs out with a dominatrix?
Other Toll-Gate Guy: Oh, that Marcello. Yeah, he's in the tavern upstage left.
The Audience: That was convenient.
Mimi: Hey, random woman -- could you go into that tavern and find a painter named Marcello? I really need to talk to him.
Random Woman: Yeah sure whatever. Wanna give me a couple francs to make it worth my while?
Mimi: I'm broke as fuck, so probably not.
Random Woman: grumble grumble grumble
[Random Woman goes into the tavern, and Marcello emerges shortly thereafter.]
Marcello: Oh hey, Mimi. I'm guessing you were the cheapskate bitch who needed to talk to me?
Marcello: What's so damn important that we have to talk outside? It's fucking freezing out here, and I'm sure that can't be good for that completely harmless cough you've had for a while now.
Mimi: Is Rodolfo inside?
Marcello: Yeah, why?
Mimi: Wellllllll I'm about to bitch about him, so the tavern isn't really the best option. Better get used to the cold, wuss.
Marcello: Go to hell. So what's the problem?
Mimi: The problem is that Rodolfo's a fucking nutcase.
The Audience: FINALLY SOMEONE REALIZES THIS
Marcello: Ooookay... care to elaborate on that?
Mimi: He's always suspicious and he yells at me and tells me I'm a terrible girlfriend and also HE STARES AT ME WHILE I SLEEP LIKE HE'S TRYING TO READ MY MIND.
Twilight Fans in the Audience: Wait, I don't get it. Is that supposed to be a bad thing?
The Rest of the Audience: WHO THE HELL LET YOU PEOPLE INTO THE THEATER
Marcello: You two dumb bitches wouldn't know a healthy relationship if it bent you over the table and sodomized you with a giant pink strap-on.
The Audience: That was... oddly phrased. And also weirdly specific.
Marcello: And speaking of which, Musetta and I are doing great!
Mimi: Oh. Oh god. That was a mental image I didn't even remotely need.
Marcello: I'm not gonna lie, though; I'm pretty sore. Sometimes the friction gets so bad that I just --
Mimi: YES OKAY SHUT UP
Marcello: Long story short, Musetta and I are the model of a healthy relationship.
Mimi: Uh-huh. You know, you're dumber than you look.
Marcello: What's that supposed to mean?
Mimi: Nothing, sweetie. OH SHIT RODOLFO'S COMING I THINK I'LL HIDE
Marcello: That seems like a perfectly normal reaction.
[Mimi conceals herself just as Rodolfo enters from the tavern.]
Rodolfo: There you are. What the hell are you doing out here in the cold?
Marcello: DEFINITELY NOT LISTENING TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND TALK SHIT ABOUT YOU
Rodolfo: Wait, what?
Marcello: I mean... just getting some fresh air. Like you do.
Rodolfo: Whatever. Anyway, I think I'm probably going to break up with Mimi.
Marcello: Because you're a little bitch?
Rodolfo: 'Cause she's a ho.
Marcello: ... really.
Rodolfo: To be more specific, she's a ho fo' sho'.
Marcello: Yeah, I don't think that's actually true.
Rodolfo: OKAY FINE IT'S BECAUSE SHE'S DYING OF CONSUMPTION BUT SHE DOESN'T KNOW YET SO YOU CAN'T TELL HER
Mimi: [still hiding] ... son of a BITCH.
Marcello: Okay, I have a couple questions. First of all, how in the actual fuck do you know about her debilitating illness when she apparently doesn't?
Marcello: Because last time I checked, coughing up bloody chunks of your own respiratory system was pretty fucking hard to miss.
Rodolfo: Huh. That really doesn't make any goddamn sense, does it.
The Audience: Nnnnnnnope.
Puccini: Fuck all y'all haters. You can just deal with it.
Marcello: Second, are you telling me that Mimi is literally dying and -- instead of doing anything to help -- you decided the best course of action would be to start verbally and emotionally abusing her?
Rodolfo: Apparently. Also, I'm pretty sure that making her live in my tiny, dirty, frigid apartment is only exacerbating her condition.
Marcello: Wow. I think you might be the worst human being I've ever met.
The Audience: Wasn't this opera supposed to be romantic?
Mimi: [starts coughing up a lung]
Rodolfo: OH SHIT IT'S MIMI
Marcello: Yeah, I'm pretty sure she heard everything. Have a fun breakup, bro.
Mimi: WHAT THE FUCK WHY WOULDN'T YOU TELL ME I HAVE TUBERCULOSIS
Rodolfo: I thought it would be better to make your life a living hell until you decided to leave me and my death trap of an apartment! Honest!
Marcello: God, you guys are so fucked up. It's too bad you can't be happy and carefree like Musetta and I are!
[Musetta's laugh is heard from the tavern.]
Marcello: MUSETTA YOU DIRTY WHORE IF YOU'RE FLIRTING WITH SOMEONE ELSE I'M GONNA FLAY YOU ALIVE AND USE YOUR SKIN AS A CANVAS
The Audience: Holy shit. Is anyone in this opera not a complete fucking psychopath?
[Marcello rushes offstage with murder on the brain.]
Mimi: Sooooo yeah. We're pretty much done here.
Rodolfo: But I love youuuuuu
Mimi: I mean... I still love you for some reason, but I also love being alive and not being in an abusive relationship. Soooo I'm gonna send someone to pick up my things, but you can keep that bonnet you bought me.
Rodolfo: So I can treasure the memory of our time together?
Mimi: No, mostly because I just realized it's garish as fuck.
Rodolfo: Oh. Well, I guess now would be a good time to reminisce about all my favorite parts of the relationship!
Mimi: And I will dwell on everything negative!
The Men in the Audience: Sounds pretty accurate.
Mimi: Goodbye to jealousy and suspicion!
Rodolfo: Goodbye to all that great sex we had!
Mimi: Goodbye to the constant fighting!
Rodolfo: And also great sex!
Mimi: But you know what sucks? Being single in the winter. It's just, like... super depressing.
Rodolfo: Totally. It would be so much better if we could wait to break up until spring.
The Audience: NO NO NO YOU FUCKING MORONS
[Musetta enters, pursued by an irate Marcello.]
Marcello: WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU JUST DOING
Musetta: I don't know what you mean.
Marcello: No, really. You're gonna have to explain what I just saw, because I have no fucking idea what that was. There were ropes everywhere and several midgets and a bottle of ranch dressing and... was that a lemur?
Musetta: I was just having some fun. You need to chill out.
Marcello: YOU NEED TO STOP FUCKING EVERYTHING THAT MOVES
Musetta: I DO WHAT I WANT
Marcello: I REFUSE TO BE CUCKOLDED THIS WAY
Musetta: Too late, bitch!
Musetta: MEDIOCRE PAINTER
Marcello: Oh no you didn't.
[Marcello and Musetta exit, screaming profanities at each other.]
Rodolfo: So it's agreed: you'll stay in my drafty-ass apartment during the coldest part of the year, despite my earlier suspicions that living there was literally killing you, and then you'll move out in the spring when it starts getting warm again!
Mimi: My favorite part of this plan is how much sense it makes!
Both: OUR LOVE IS SO BEAUTIFUL
The Audience: ....... what the FUCK.
[End of Act III.]
Next installment: Act IV