Sunday, August 26, 2012

The Medium, Act I

The Medium
An opera in two acts (Act II)

Music and Libretto: Gian Carlo Menotti
 

[Act I: A living room belonging to Baba, a fake medium known professionally as “Madame Flora.” The room has no windows and there are silk wall-hangings and beaded lamps everywhere because everyone knows you can't contact the spirits of the dear departed unless you're in a place that strongly resembles an opium den. There are also astrological charts and a small shrine to the Virgin Mary, which would seem to be contradictory but whatever. There's also a big puppet theater in the corner because why the fuck not. Toby, a young boy who happens to be mute for no reason that's ever explained, is busy dressing himself in Baba's jewelry and scarves from the Fake Gypsy Discount Warehouse.]

The Audience: Wait. This opera has a drag queen? That's awesome.

Me: But at least half the fun of drag queens is listening to them say sassy shit, and Toby's a mute.

The Audience: Hmm. This could present a problem.

Menotti: My plan with this opera was to take a concept with a lot of potential for awesome stuff, and then make everything substantially less awesome in practice. I think it worked out great!

The Audience: Goddammit.

[Monica, Baba's daughter, is over in the corner, wearing something that looks like a wedding dress and playing with a veil. She's presumably somewhere in her teens, but she might have some mild brain damage or something because she spends half the opera acting like she's six goddamn years old.]

Monica: BLAH BLAH RUMPELSTILTSKIN BLAH BLAH I THINK MY LIFE IS A FAIRY TALE

The Audience: … sooo instead of an awesome sassy drag queen, we have to listen to this?

Menotti: Yuuuuup.

The Audience: YOU MADE THE WRONG CHARACTER MUTE YOU ASSHOLE

Menotti: Meh. [shrug]

[Monica notices that Toby is playing pretty princess dress-up.]

Monica: DAMMIT TOBY YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE GETTING READY FOR THE SÉANCE

[It's at about this point that the audience starts imagining that Toby can actually talk, and that he also sounds exactly like Lafayette from True Blood.]

Toby: {Bitch, you just jealous 'cause I'm fabulous.}

Monica: If Baba gets home and nothing's ready, she's gonna beat your ass again.

The Audience: Waaaait... an angry white person beating the shit out of someone named Toby? This seems familiar.

Kunta Kinte: Tell me about it.

[Monica starts brushing her hair.]

Monica: La la laaaa crowns and gnomes and queeeeeeens

Toby: {Maybe if you shut your dumb mouth for two minutes you'd be able to get ready faster.}

Monica: TOBY YOU LOOK SO HANDSOME YOU'RE LIKE SOME DUSKY-HUED BABYLONIAN MONARCH

The Audience: … did it just get racist in here?

[Monica hugs Toby.]

Monica: I WOULD TOTALLY MARRY YOU IF YOU WEREN'T DEFECTIVE

Toby: {Hookuh, I'm about to slap the shit outta you.}

[A door slams offstage.]

Monica: OH SHIT BABA'S HOME

The Audience: Yeah, now might be a good time to look like you've actually been getting ready instead of just fucking around.

Monica: Nah, we're good.

[Toby and Monica do absolutely nothing. Baba enters.]

Baba: WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU KIDS WHY IS NOTHING READY

Monica: Sorry, Baba; I was reeeeally busy pretending I was the queen of a magical kingdom.

Baba: Oh, for fuck's sake. [to Toby] AND HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP WEARING MY GYPSY SHIT

Toby: {You just mad 'cause I look better in it than you do.}

Baba: You look like one of them homos.

The Audience: You know that cross-dressing and homosexuality aren't the same thing, right?

Baba: DON'T SASS ME I'M A PSYCHIC

Monica: You're a fake psychic.

Baba: Shut the fuck up and go get ready. And I swear to god, Toby – if anything goes wrong tonight, I'll skin you alive and use your hide as the world's most grotesque throw-rug.

Monica: So where have you been all night, anyway?

Baba: Where have I been? Money!

The Audience: That doesn't actually answer her question.

Baba: FUCK OFF

Monica: Baba, did you rob the liquor store again?

Baba: God, that was only like... two times. Let it go already.

Monica: It was six times.

Baba: Two, six, whatever. The point is, it's in the past.

Monica: And I'm pretty sure there's still a warrant out for your arrest a couple counties over.

Baba: Water under the bridge! Anyway, that miserly bitch Mrs. Campi still owed us money for contacting the spirit of her dead sister –

Monica: – for pretending to contact the spirit of her dead sister –

Baba: – so I sat on her steps all night until she paid me.

Monica: She paid you? Just like that?

Baba: Yuuuuup.

Monica: And you didn't threaten her or anything?

Baba: … not directly.

[Monica folds her arms.]

Monica: Tell me what you did, Baba.

Baba: Fiiiiine. I may or may not have brought along a can of kerosene and a book of matches.

Monica: DAMMIT BABA YOU CAN'T JUST THREATEN TO BURN DOWN PEOPLE'S HOUSES

Baba: FIRST OF ALL I NEVER TECHNICALLY THREATENED HER AND SECOND OF ALL IT TOTALLY WORKED SO I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU'RE MAD

Monica: BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS DO THIS AND SO WE NEVER GET REPEAT CUSTOMERS

Baba: Meh.

Monica: And how could you do that to poor Mrs. Campi? She's practically broke!

Baba: So are we! And if she's so poor, maybe she shouldn't be wasting her money on bullshit séances.

The Audience: You know, that's the first thing she's said that actually makes sense.

Baba: Just stop whining and get dressed already.

[Baba helps Monica put on the veil. Toby draws back the curtain of the puppet theater, revealing a number of hidden switches. One messes with the lights, another levitates the table, and the rest all do similarly spoooooky shit.]

The Audience: Wow. They're not half-assing this, are they.

Baba: I take the art of being a fake psychic very seriously, thank you very much.

[The doorbell rings.]

Baba: SHIT EVERYONE GET READY

[Toby conceals himself inside the puppet theater, and Monica retreats into a hidden room. Baba buzzes the guests in, then sits down at the table and starts playing solitaire.]

The Audience: Solitaire? Is that part of the séance?

Baba: It makes me look mystical or something. Shut up.

[Mr. and Mrs. Gobineau enter and take off their coats. They're followed shortly thereafter by Mrs. Nolan, who looks nervous.]

Mrs. Gobineau: Is this your first time visiting Madame Flora?

Mrs. Nolan: Yeah, I'm kinda freaked out.

Mr. Gobineau: Oh, you'll get used to it. She's really great.

Mrs. Gobineau: So who are you trying to contact?

Mrs. Nolan: My daughter, Doodly.

The Audience: Whoa, hold up. Doodly? What the fuck kind of name is that?

Mrs. Gobineau: I'm sorry... when did she die?

Mrs. Nolan: Last year.

The Audience: Soooo she was still a toddler or something, right? Like, Doodly was just a silly nickname for a little girl?

Mrs. Nolan: … she was only sixteen...

The Audience: Jesus Christ. She probably committed suicide because her heartless bitch of a mother gave her such a stupid fucking name.

[Mrs. Nolan starts to cry.]

Mrs. Nolan: I MISS HER SO MUCH

The Audience: If you really loved her, you would have named her Katherine or something.

Mrs. Nolan: [drying her tears] How long have you been coming to Madame Flora?

Mr. Gobineau: Every week for the past two years. We come to communicate with the spirit of our infant son.

The Audience: Every week? That seems excessive. Dude was like... two years old; it's not like conversation is going to be his strong suit.

Mr. Gobineau: Sometimes we hear him laugh! It's totally worth all the money we've spent.

The Audience: You people are morons.

Baba: Rich morons – and that's the only part I care about!

Mrs. Nolan: How did he die?

Mrs. Gobineau: He drowned in a fountain because I'm a terrible mother and I was picking flowers instead of watching him.

Mr. Gobineau: I'm glad we ended up naming him Mickey instead of Bob, 'cause that would have just been super awkward.

[Mrs. Gobineau starts crying.]

Mr. Gobineau: There, there. It's probably for the best that he didn't live long enough to discover what a loveless sham our marriage is.

Baba: Aaaaaand now that we've gotten all that exposition out of the way –

The Audience: Thanks!

Baba: – it's time to start the séance!

[The Gobineaux join hands while Baba turns out the lights. Mrs. Nolan just sits there and looks nervous.]

Mr. Gobineau: [whispering] we all have to hold hands you stupid bitch

Mrs. Nolan: Oh.

[Mrs. Nolan joins her hands to the circle. Baba pretends to go into a trance and starts humming. Then, suddenly –]

Baba: AAAAHHHRGBLEBLE

Mrs. Nolan: JESUS CHRIST WHAT'S WRONG

[The lights come up on Monica, who is visible in ghostly silhouette through a picture on the wall.]

Monica: … Moooom … Moooooooooooooooom

Mrs. Nolan: Doodly? Is that you?

Monica: Yeah, Mom, it's totally me.

The Audience: That's pretty convenient – but what do they do when someone wants to contact a spirit that's not a teenage girl?

Menotti: She does a pretty good laughing baby impression...

The Audience: And besides that?

Menotti: There's a reason they're practically broke.

The Audience: Fair enough.

Mrs. Gobineau: Go on, Mrs. Nolan – talk to her!

Mrs. Nolan: Oh, Doodly, I've missed you so much! Will Jesus be mad at me for going to a séance and consorting with witches like this?

Monica: Hold on, let me check.

[There is a long pause.]

Monica: Nah, he says it's all good.

Mrs. Nolan: Are you happy? Are you with your father? WHY DID YOU LEAVE MEEE

Monica: Yes, yes, and damn, girl, calm your tits.

Mrs. Nolan: I'M SO ALOOOOONE

Monica: Okay, here's what you need to do. You need to gather all my stuff up into a big pile and set it on fire.

Mrs. Nolan: That... seems a little extreme.

Monica: Bitch, I'm just getting started. You also need to stop visiting my grave, and you have to promise never to cry again. Ever.

Mrs. Nolan: Um...

Monica: Because if you ever cry about anything again, I'm going to send spirits from beyond the grave to torment you.

Mrs. Nolan: [whimpers softly]

Monica: You need to forget about me and move on with your life.

Baba: [muttering] Yeah, I'm the one who's killing our customer return rate.

Monica: So, to summarize: never cry again, never visit my grave, and burn all my shit. Oh, except for the gold locket.

Mrs. Nolan: Gold locket? Doodly didn't have a –

Monica: OH WOW LOOK AT THE TIME I GOTTA GO

[The light on Monica fades out.]

Mrs. Nolan: Was it just me, or did that seem a bit... harsh?

Baba: Shut up and let me continue.

Mr. Gobineau: We now summon the spirit of our beloved son... Mickey.

Baba: Yeah, I don't need your help.

Mr. Gobineau: Sorry.

[Monica's voice is heard again, this time in a child-like giggle.]

Mrs. Gobineau: Hello, Mickey! You sound so happy tonight!

Mr. Gobineau: Daddy loves you, Mickey! Daddy loves you so much more than your neglectful Mommy ever did!

Mrs. Gobineau: [tearing up a little] Don't listen to him, Mickey – Mommy loves you almost as much as she loves abandoning tiny children near bodies of water!

The Audience: Wow. This is just... wow.

[Monica's laughter starts to fade. The Gobineaux wave goodbye to the ghostly voice.]

Mrs. Gobineau: We'll be back to see you next week!

[The room goes silent for a little while. And then –]

Baba: JESUS FUCK WHO TOUCHED ME

Mr. Gobineau: Um... Mrs. Nolan and I were holding your hands...?

Baba: NO NO SOMEONE GRABBED MY THROAT

Mrs. Gobineau: Maybe it was a spirit! I often feel little Mickey touch me on the shoulder during our séances.

Baba: THAT'S STUPID AND SO ARE YOU

Mr. Gobineau: Oh, come on. You're not afraid, are you? You spend your whole life communicating with the spirit world!

Baba: THANKS FOR TELLING ME WHAT I DO FOR A LIVING NOW KINDLY GET THE FUCK OUT

[Baba rushes the Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan out of the house. Monica comes back into the living room, still dressed in her ghost outfit.]

Monica: What the hell happened?

Baba: [quietly] Get me my sippy cup of whiskey, Monica. Mama needs her medicine.

[Monica gets Baba some booze. Baba starts drinking like a fish.]

Monica: Seriously, though. What's wrong?

Baba: [between gulps] I felt an icy hand on my throat... and it wasn't the hand of a man.

Monica: So it was a woman's hand?

Baba: No. I mean, like... not human.

Monica: So, like... a chimp?

Baba: NO GODDAMMIT I MEAN LIKE A GHOST BUT THAT'S BULLSHIT BECAUSE GHOSTS AREN'T REAL

Monica: Oooookay, someone's had too much to drink.

Baba: MONICA I'M SCAAAAARED

Monica: It's okay, Baba. Just give me the sippy cup.

Baba: NEVER

[She runs over to the puppet theater and pulls back the curtain. Toby is still huddled inside.]

Baba: I'M GOING TO BLAME YOU EVEN THOUGH IT'S OBVIOUS YOU HAVEN'T MOVED THIS WHOLE TIME

Toby: {Bitch, I was taking a nap until you started yelling. Get the hell out of my face.}

Baba: YOU DID IT JUST TO FUCK WITH ME

Monica: Baba, he didn't do anything. Just let it go.

Baba: WE THINK HE'S STUPID JUST BECAUSE HE CAN'T TALK BUT HE'S OBVIOUSLY DEVIOUS BECAUSE OF THE DIRTY GYPSY BLOOD IN HIS VEINS

The Audience: Aaaaand we're back to racism. Awesome.

Baba: SEE HOW HE'S LOOKING AT ME THAT SHIFTY LITTLE BASTARD

Monica: JUST CALM THE FUCK DOWN SO I CAN SING YOU THAT GODDAMN LULLABY YOU LOVE SO MUCH

Baba: … 'kay.

[Monica starts singing, and Toby starts accompanying her on the tambourine because why the fuck not.]

Monica: The Queen of Light took her bow
And then she turned to go
The Prince of Peace embraced the gloom
And walked the night aloooooooone

Baba: … is that Led Zeppelin?

Monica: Ohhhhhh, dance in the dark of niiiight
Sing to the morning liiiiiiiiight

Baba: No, not that one. Sing me something else.

Monica: OH BLACK SWAAAAN
WHERE OH WHERE HAS MY LOVER GOOOONE

Natalie Portman: Bitch, I have no goddamn idea. Text him or something and leave my crazy ass out of this.

[Baba, swaying back and forth drunkenly, starts singing along.]

Baba and Monica: SOMETHING SOMETHING CREEPIEST LULLABY EVEEEERRRRRR

Baba: Wait a minute, shut up.

[A voice that sounds eerily like Monica's is heard from offstage, repeating what she said to Mrs. Nolan.]

Creepy Voice: … Moooom … Moooooooooooooooom

Baba: JESUS CHRIST DO YOU HEAR THAT

Monica: Hear what?

[Monica's baby-laugh is also heard.]

Baba: OH SHIT SOMEONE MUST BE HIDING IN THE BACK ROOM

[Toby goes and checks.]

Monica: There's no one else here, Baba. You're either drunk or crazy.

The Audience: Can't it be both?

[Toby comes back.]

Baba: TOBY DID YOU SEE ANYTHING

Toby: [shaking his head] {I don't see nothing except an old-ass drunk lady.}

Baba: YOU'RE LYING I'MA BEAT THE SHIT OUTTA YOU

Monica: GODDAMMIT CALM YOUR TITS

Baba: WE HAVE TO PRAY TO JESUS TO SAVE OUR SOULS

[Baba kneels down in front of the little shrine in the corner.]

Baba: SOMEBODY SAAAAAAAAAAVE MEEEEEEE

About a Quarter of my Blog Readers: A Smallville reference? Seriously?

Me: Fuck off.

Monica: OH BLACK SWAAAAAAAAAAN
WHERE OH WHERE HAS MY MOM'S SOBRIETY GOOOONE

[End of Act I.]

Next installment: Act II 

1 comment:

  1. That about sums it up. Next take on The Old Maid and the Thief, and crank up the lesbian subtext

    ReplyDelete