Monday, December 10, 2012

Il trovatore, Act I

Il trovatore
Grand opera in four acts (Act II, Act III, Act IV)

Music: Giuseppe Verdi
Libretto: Salvadore Cammarano and Leone Emanuele Bardare
 

Act I: The Duel

[Scene I: A hall in the palace of Aliaferia, just outside the chambers of the Count di Luna. The count is loyal to the prince of Aragon, who is currently waging war against Urgel, a rebel with his own claim to the throne.]

The Audience: And which side are we supposed to sympathize with?

Verdi: Well, di Luna is the baritone, sooo...

The Audience: Urgel all the way. Gotcha.

[Ferrando, di Luna's captain of the guard, is waiting in the hallway. A chorus of retainers and soldiers is also present for some reason, because apparently he needs a whole fucking battalion to guard his room in the middle of the night.]

The Chorus: WE'RE BOOOORED

Ferrando: Like I give a shit.

The Chorus: WE'RE GONNA FALL ASLEEP

Ferrando: NOOO THE COUNT NEEDS US TO BE VIGILANT WHILE HE'S OUT STALKING HIS BELOVED

The Chorus: Wait. He's not even here?

Ferrando: Nnnope. He's busy trying to look in Leonora's window and obsessing over the mysterious troubadour she loves instead of him.

The Chorus: ... so we're just guarding an empty room?

Ferrando: Yuuup.

The Chorus: Wow. What a dick.

Ferrando: Yeah, pretty much.

The Chorus: ...

Ferrando: ...

The Chorus: WE'RE BOOOOOOORED

Ferrando: Oh, not this shit again.

The Chorus: TELL US A STOOORYYYY

Ferrando: I'm sorry, when exactly did you all turn into toddlers?

The Chorus: TELL US THE STORY OF GARZIA

Ferrando: FINE BUT ONLY IF YOU SHUT UP

The Chorus: yaaaaaay

[Everyone gathers around as Ferrando begins his story.]

Ferrando: Okay. Once upon a time, there was a father who had two sons and they were all very happy.

The Audience: What about the mother?

Ferrando: She was dead or something.

The Audience: Shouldn't that have made them unhappy?

Ferrando: She was a bitch and they were happier without her. Now stop asking questions.

The Audience: Rude.

Ferrando: Oh, and also the father was the Count di Luna. That's kinda important.

The Audience: Sooo when you say "once upon a time," you really mean "last week."

Ferrando: Actually, this was the previous Count di Luna. The current count is his son.

The Audience: Oh. So who's Garzia?

Ferrando: He's the other son. The current count's brother.

The Audience: This is way more complicated than it needs to be.

Verdi: Oh, just wait. Y'all bitches ain't seen nothing yet.

Ferrando: So, like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted --

The Audience: Eat a dick.

Ferrando: -- the father and his two sons were perfectly happy and content... until one day.

The Chorus: OH NO WHAT HAPPENED

Ferrando: One morning, Garzia's nurse awoke to find a strange figure in the room, leaning over the child's cradle!

The Chorus: OH SHIT WHO WAS IT

Ferrando: AN UGLY OLD GYPSY WOMAN

The Chorus: EWW GROSS

Ferrando: So the nurse screamed and servants came running and threw the old bitch out. She claimed to be reading the baby's fortune, but everyone knew that she was actually putting a curse on him because that's what gypsies do. You know, when they're not picking your pocket and stuff.

The Chorus: YEAH GYPSIES ARE ASSHOLES

The Audience: Okay, despite the blatant racism at work here, we have to admit that it's generally considered not cool to break into kids' bedrooms. So it's pretty understandable that people would get upset about that.

Ferrando: And then the child started getting sick, which proved that he was cursed! So the count sent out his soldiers to capture the old gypsy woman, and then they burned her at the stake for witchcraft!

The Audience: That, on the other hand, seems like an overreaction.

The Chorus: THE BITCH TOTALLY HAD IT COMING

The Audience: Of course. Because babies never get sick unless they're cursed.

Ferrando: But the story doesn't end there! The gypsy woman's daughter stole Garzia from his crib and threw him on her mother's pyre as an act of revenge on the count!

The Audience: Whoa. This got dark really quickly.

Ferrando: They found the child's blackened bones amid the smoldering remains of the pyre.

The Chorus: FUCKING EVIL GYPSIES

Ferrando: I KNOW RIGHT

The Chorus: So how did the old count deal with his son getting char-broiled?

Ferrando: He pretty much went crazy from grief and died. But he still believed that Garzia was alive somewhere, and he made his remaining son promise to keep searching for his brother and the crazy gypsy woman.

The Chorus: But he was never found?

Ferrando: Of course not. He's dead and buried and there's no chance whatsoever that this story will be important later in the opera.

Verdi: Hint hint.

The Audience: Yeah, we got it.

The Chorus: And was the old gypsy's daughter ever found?

Ferrando: No, but I'm sure we'll catch her some day. I'd recognize that crazy bitch anywhere.

Verdi: Also hint hint.

The Audience: Shut up. You're as bad as Donizetti.

Verdi: YOU TAKE THAT BACK

The Chorus: WOO LET'S CATCH HER AND SEND HER TO HELL TO MEET HER MOM

Ferrando: Actually, some people believe that the old gypsy woman's spirit still haunts the castle, and she appears to people in various shapes to frighten them.

The Audience: Is this foreshadowing too?

Verdi: No, this part actually has no significance to the rest of the plot.

The Chorus: OH YEAH WE'VE SEEN HER FLYING AROUND IN THE SHAPE OF AN OWL AND SOMETIMES A CROW

The Audience: Either that or you just saw normal birds.

The Chorus: NO IT WAS TOTALLY THE OLD GYPSY

Ferrando: AND ONE SERVANT DIED OF FRIGHT BECAUSE HE PUNCHED THE GYPSY IN THE FOREHEAD

The Chorus: THAT WAS RANDOM BUT OKAY SURE

Ferrando: SHE APPEARED TO HIM IN THE FORM OF AN OWL AND LOOKED AT THE MOON AND LET OUT A LOUD HOOT

The Audience: That's what owls do. It was just a normal fucking owl.

[The clock strikes midnight.]

Ferrando and the Chorus: AHHH MAY THAT OLD GYPSY BITCH BE CURSED FOREVER

[Everyone exits.]

The Audience: You people are morons.

[Scene II: The gardens of the palace. Leonora, a lady-in-waiting to the princess of Aragon, is waiting to see her lover. She's accompanied by her servant, Inez.]

Inez: CAN WE GO INSIDE YET

Leonora: NO I'M STILL WAITING FOR MY MYSTERIOUS LOVER

Inez: BUT THE PRINCESS WANTS TO SEE YOU

Leonora: NOT UNTIL I SEE MY BELOVED

Inez: Seriously, though. Who is this troubadour guy and where did you meet him?

Leonora: At a tournament. He was a mysterious knight in dark armor and he kicked everyone's asses and I presented him with the crown of victory!

Inez: Sorry, I'm confused. Is he a knight or a troubadour?

Leonora: He's both.

Inez: That's stupid and so are you.

Leonora: Shut up. I didn't see him for a long time after the civil war broke out -- but one night, I heard someone in the garden playing a lute and singing a love song for me! And guess who it was!

Inez: The trouba-knight?

Leonora: EXACTLY

Inez: Okay, so... how much do you know about this guy, anyway?

Leonora: I KNOW THAT WE'RE IN LOVE AND NOTHING WILL EVER KEEP US APART

Verdi: Challenge accepted.

The Audience: No, but really. This bitch must have taken "Tempting Fate 101" at Lammermoor Community College, 'cause damn.

Inez: Look, just take my advice and stop seeing this guy because it's probably gonna end in tears.

Leonora: NOPE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH THAT I WOULD BE WILLING TO DIE FOR HIM

The Audience: [facepalm]

Inez: Welllll if it all goes to shit, I'm going to carve "I told you so" on your tombstone.

[They leave. The Count di Luna enters.]

Di Luna: Doot de doo, it's such a nice quiet night that I think I'm gonna stalk Leonora!

The Audience: You're creepy.

Di Luna: HEY LEONORA I KNOW YOU'RE AWAKE BECAUSE THE LAMP IN YOUR WINDOW IS STILL LIT

The Audience: ... and also a bit desperate.

Di Luna: SHE FILLS ME WITH THE FIRE OF PASSION AND I'M COMING

The Audience: GROSS

Di Luna: ... TO SEE HER RIGHT NOW

[A harp starts playing offstage.]

Di Luna: OH GODDAMMIT IT'S THAT FUCKING MINSTREL AGAIN

The Troubadour: [offstage] COME WHAT MAAAAY
COME WHAT MAAAAAAY
IIIIII WILL LOVE YOUUUUU
UNTIL MY DYING DAAAAAAY

Di Luna: AT LEAST SING SOMETHING GOOD

The Troubadour: [still offstage] NIGHT AND DAAAAY
YOU ARE THE ONE
ONLY YOU BENEATH THE MOON
AND UNDER THE SUUUUUN

Di Luna: ... son of a bitch.

[Leonora runs onstage, having heard the singing. She sees the count in the darkness and mistakes him for her beloved knight.]

Leonora: I LOVE YOU SOOO MUCH

[She embraces the count.]

Di Luna: Not that I'm complaining, but what the fuck is going on?

The Audience: What a dumb bitch.

Verdi: It's almost like the count and the troubadour look a lot like each other or something.

The Audience: LA LA LA WE CAN'T HEAR YOU

[The troubadour enters, his face concealed, and sees Leonora macking on Count di Luna.]

The Troubadour: WHAT THE FUCK I THOUGHT YOU LOVED ME

[Leonora realizes her mistake and retracts her tongue from di Luna's mouth.]

Leonora: It's just a misunderstanding! It was super dark and I heard your voice and thought he was you!

The Troubadour: Oh. Okay, then.

Leonora: But really. How could you ever think I could love this asshole instead of you? He's not as tender or passionate and he's also kind of a dick.

Di Luna: Still here, guys.

The Troubadour: Yeah, he's pretty terrible. Come give me a kiss!

Di Luna: You're hurting my feelings.

[Leonora and the troubadour make out.]

Di Luna: SOMEONE PAY ATTENTION TO ME

The Troubadour: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT

Di Luna: SHOW ME YOUR FACE IF YOU'RE NOT A COWARD

The Troubadour: 'KAY

Leonora: DON'T DO IT

[He pulls back his hood/visor/big floppy hat and shows his face.]

The Troubadour: IT IS I, MANRICO

Di Luna: OH SHIT THAT IS A HUGE REVELATION

The Audience: WE DON'T KNOW WHY THAT'S IMPORTANT

Di Luna: HE'S THE GENERAL OF THE REBEL PRINCE'S ARMIES

The Audience: OH OKAY I GUESS THAT'S KIND OF A BIG DEAL

Di Luna: [drawing his sword] HOW DARE YOU COME HERE YOU TRAITOROUS WRETCH

Manrico: [also drawing his sword] COME AT ME BRO

Di Luna: OKAY BITCH LET'S DO THIS

Leonora: OH FOR FUCK'S SAKE CAN WE STOP COMPARING DICKS FOR TWO MINUTES

Di Luna: ...

Manrico: ...

Di Luna: Nnnnope.

Leonora: Shit.

Di Luna: SINCE YOU LOVE THIS ASSHOLE INSTEAD OF ME I'M GONNA MAKE YOU WATCH ME KILL HIM

Manrico: NOT IF I KILL YOU FIRST

Di Luna: SOMETHING SOMETHING FIERY RAGE

Manrico: SOMETHING SOMETHING LOVE WILL BE TRIUMPHANT

Leonora: AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[Manrico and Count di Luna begin to duel.]

The Audience: This is awesome! We almost never get to see this kind of stuff onstage!

[The curtain falls.]

The Audience: Oh, for fuck's sake.

[End of Act I.]

Next installment: Act II

Sunday, December 2, 2012

Amahl and the Night Visitors

Amahl and the Night Visitors
An opera in one act

Music and Libretto: Gian Carlo Menotti
 

[The opera is set somewhere in ancient Judea, with a star in the sky that looks suspiciously like it might be hanging over Bethlehem. Most of the action centers around a dilapidated hovel inhabited by a mother and her child. Amahl, the aforementioned child, is an obnoxious eleven-year-old boy who enjoys playing his shepherd's pipes (not a euphemism) and being a pathological liar. Also, he's crippled and he needs a crutch to walk.]

Charles Dickens: Oh wow, a crippled kid in a story about Christmas. I can't believe no one's ever thought of that before.

Menotti: Fuck off.

[And while we're handing out tragic illnesses, it should probably be mentioned that Amahl's mother – who is never given a real name because of course not – has a terminal case of being a complete bitch.]

Mother: AMAHL

Amahl: [sitting outside] WHAT

Mother: COME INSIDE

Amahl: 'KAY

[And then he goes back to doing exactly what he was doing before – in short, playing his pipes and giving zero fucks.]

Mother: AMAHL

Amahl: WHAT

Mother: I CAN HEAR YOU PLAYING YOUR PIPES SO I KNOW YOU'RE NOT COMING INSIDE

Amahl: OKAY I'M PUTTING THEM AWAY NOW AND COMING IN

Mother: GOOD

[Amahl immediately resumes his playing.]

Mother: YOU LITTLE ASSHOLE

Amahl: trololololol

[She opens the door and steps out.]

Mother: COME INSIDE RIGHT NOW BEFORE I BEAT THE SHIT OUT OF YOU

Amahl: But Mooooooom I want to stay outsiiiiiide

Mother: It's cold and dark and it's getting late.

Amahl: But I want to keep looking at the skyyyyy

Mother: If you keep talking back to me, I swear to God I will curbstomp the shit out of you.

Amahl: Fiiiine.

[He begins the laborious process of getting his crutch, getting up, and hobbling inside.]

The Audience: Any time now.

[Amahl moves two more steps.]

The Audience: No, really. It's not like we have anything better to do.

[Amahl finally gets back into the house. His mother shuts the door behind them both.]

Mother: Sooo why did you feel the need to be such a little douche tonight?

Amahl: THERE'S THIS BIG STAR IN THE SKY AND IT'S REALLY COOL

Mother: FOR FUCK'S SAKE WILL YOU STOP TELLING LIES

Amahl: I'M NOT LYING

Mother: YOU TOTALLY ARE BECAUSE YOU LIE ALL THE TIME

Amahl: YOU CAN LITERALLY SEE IT OUT THE WINDOW JUST GO LOOK

Mother: NOPE I'M NOT FALLING FOR ANY OF YOUR SHIT EVER AGAIN

The Audience: It's actually there, though.

Mother: SHUT UP

The Audience: Just sayin'.

Mother: You wouldn't believe the shit that this little bastard tells me – and most of the time, he doesn't even bother trying to make it sound believable!

The Audience: Like what?

Mother: Like the time he told me he saw a jungle cat with a woman's head. Or the time he told me that he saw a tree that was screaming and bleeding profusely. Or the time he told me about the giant catfish with wings and horns that was terrorizing a small fishing village on the coast.

SyFy Channel Executives: Aaaand we just got our idea for our next original movie... "Batfish: Rivers of Blood."

Mother: Whatever. The point is, everything that comes out of the little bastard's mouth is a lie.

The Audience: Yeah, but compared with the rest of that shit, isn't "there's a really bright star in the sky" pretty believable?

Mother: HE'S A LYING LIAR SO SHUT UP

Amahl: I'm not lying! I swear!

Mother: OH GOD HE THINKS HE'S TELLING THE TRUTH

Amahl: Because I am.

Mother: HUSH MY SWEET CHILD; HUNGER HAS CLEARLY ADDLED YOUR BRAINS

Amahl: But –

Mother: WE'LL HAVE TO GO BEGGING IF WE WANT TO STAY ALIVE

[Amahl shrugs.]

Amahl: Sure, whatever.

Mother: [starting to sob] IT'S SO SHAMEFUL

The Audience: Well, let's see... you can either keep your dignity or not starve to death. Yeah, that's a tough choice.

Amahl: It's okay, Mom! I'm gonna be the bestest beggar ever and I'll play my pipes and you'll sing and dance and everyone will give us food and money and everything will be awesome forever!

Mother: Aw, that's so sweet.

Amahl: Actually, I was just lying to make you feel better. We're pretty much fucked.

Mother: Shut up and go to sleep.

[They lie down and close their eyes. Soon, a trio of voices can be heard in the distance.]

A Trio of Voices: HOLY SHIT WE'RE SO TIRED

[Three kings walk onstage, each carrying a gift of some sort. They're followed by a page, who's carrying the rest of their shit.]

The Three Kings: ARE WE THERE YET

The Audience: Wait. Are these the actual three kings? Like... on their way to visit the baby Jesus?

Menotti: Yuuuup.

The Audience: Oh, god. This isn't an opera; it's a fucking greeting card.

The Three Kings: DEAR GOD WE JUST WANT TO REST AND STOP FOLLOWING THIS STUPID STAR FOR LIKE FIVE MINUTES

[They see the decrepit old hovel and decide to stop there. Melchior, the first king, knocks on the door.]

Mother: [half-asleep] Amahl, go see who the fuck is knocking on our door in the middle of the night.

[Amahl gets his crutch, gets up, and hobbles to the door.]

The Audience: Seriously? He can barely walk. Do it yourself, you lazy bitch.

[Amahl opens the door, sees Melchior, and slams the door with a gasp of surprise.]

Amahl: HOLY CRAP MOM THERE'S A KING OUTSIDE

Mother: Stop being a lying piece of shit.

Amahl: But Mooooooom it's truuuuuuue

Mother: Not buying it.

[The kings have switched places outside. Kaspar, the second king, knocks on the door.]

Mother: Just answer the door and stop being a jackass.

[Amahl opens the door, sees Kaspar, and loses his shit.]

The Door: [slam]

Amahl: HOLY CRAP MOM THERE ARE TWO KINGS OUTSIDE

Mother: If you keep lying to me, I'm going to break your other leg.

Amahl: [whimpers]

[The kings have switched places again. Balthazar, the third king, knocks on the door. Only this time it's different, because – ]

Amahl: HOLY FUCKING SHIT MOM THERE'S A BLACK KING OUTSIDE

Mother: Don't be ridiculous, Amahl; black people can't occupy positions of power. That's what we like to call "The White Man's Burden!"

Amahl: But we're not white either. We're Palestinian or something.

Mother: ARE YOU SASSING ME

Amahl: No, mother.

Mother: Good. Since you're too busy being an idiot, I'll just answer the door myself.

The Audience: Like you should have in the first place.

Mother: Fuck off.

[She gets up and opens the door.]

The Three Kings: HIIIII

Mother: HOLY SHIT

Amahl: Told you so.

Mother: Don't be a dick. [to the kings] Can I help you?

Melchior: Can we take a nap in your house? We've been walking for like... forever.

Mother: If you're so rich, shouldn't you have some mode of transportation? Like camels or horses or palanquins carried by broad-shouldered eunuchs?

Balthazar: It's cheaper to travel on foot. These gifts we're carrying were pretty expensive.

Mother: I see. Well, I'm just a poor, starving widow with a crippled son, but you're welcome to stay in my humble home for a little while.

Melchior: Thanks!

Mother: And maybe you could toss a couple coins my way to pay me for my trouble?

Melchior: Nnnnope. Come on in, boys!

Kaspar: WHAT WAS THAT I DIDN'T HEAR IT BECAUSE I AM DEAF

Menotti: And deaf people are hilarious! Almost as funny as the idea of a black king, amirite?

The Audience: You're a douche.

[The page hurries into the house and unrolls a carpet for them to walk in on, even though they've been walking across dirt and rocks and sand for god knows how long. Seriously, it's kinda pointless. The kings proceed into the house one by one and sit down together on a bench.]

Melchior: This place is a shithole.

Mother: Poor, starving widow, remember?

Melchior: Oh, right. I guess it's okay.

Mother: Fuck you too. I have to go gather firewood so we don't freeze to death, but I'll be back soon. [to Amahl] Don't be obnoxious, okay?

Amahl: Of course not, mother.

[She leaves.]

Amahl: HEY MISTER BLACK GUY ARE YOU A REAL KING BECAUSE MY MOM SAYS BLACK PEOPLE CAN'T BE KINGS

Balthazar: Your mom's a bitch. And yes, I'm a real king.

Amahl: DO YOU HAVE ROYAL BLOOD AND STUFF

Balthazar: By definition, yes.

Amahl: CAN I SEE IT

Balthazar: Hell no. Go away.

Amahl: WHERE DO YOU LIIIIVE

Menotti: And while you're answering this question, could you say “black” as many times as possible?

Balthazar: I live in a palace –

Menotti: – a black palace –

Balthazar: – and I own some panthers –

Menotti: – which are a slightly darker black

Balthazar: – and also some doves.

Menotti: – which are the opposite of black. Black black blacky black black.

The Audience: YES WE GET IT

Balthazar: Can I stop talking now?

Amahl: SURE AND NOW I CAN TELL YOU ALLLLLL ABOUT ME

Balthazar: Oh joy.

Amahl: I USED TO HAVE SOME SHEEP BUT MY MOM SOLD THEM AND I USED TO HAVE A GOAT BUT SHE DIED AND I USED TO HAVE A DAD BUT HE DIED TOO AND NOW MOM BRINGS HOME A SPECIAL FRIEND SOMETIMES BUT SHE MAKES ME GO OUTSIDE WHEN HE COMES OVER AND THEN I HEAR WEIRD NOISES COMING FROM THE HOUSE AND –

Balthazar: Aaaand that's way too much information. Go bother the deaf guy for a while.

Amahl: 'Kay.

[He approaches Kaspar.]

Amahl: Are you a real king too?

Kaspar: SORRY I CAN'T HEAR YOU

Menotti: Oh, man. Comedy gold.

The Audience: [facepalm]

Amahl: I ASKED IF YOU'RE A REAL KING

Kaspar: YES I AM AT LEAST I WAS THE LAST TIME I CHECKED

[The conversation continues along the following lines:]

Amahl: Stupid question!

Kaspar: Confused noise?

Amahl: THE SAME QUESTION BUT LOUDER THIS TIME

Kaspar: Response!

[And that formula repeats itself about fifty goddamn times.]

Menotti: It's not actually fifty times.

Me: But it sure feels like it!

[Finally, Amahl points to a box sitting next to Kaspar.]

Amahl: What the hell is that?

Kaspar: THIS IS MY BOX AND IT IS THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE BOXES AND I NEVER GO ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY BOX BECAUSE IT IS JUST SO BOXTASTIC AND I KEEP ALL MY FAVORITE THINGS IN THIS BOX LIKE MAGIC GEMSTONES AND BEADS AND ESPECIALLY LICORICE –

Menotti: Black licorice!

The Audience: FUCK OFF

Kaspar: – AND YOU SHOULD EAT SOME OF THIS LICORICE BECAUSE CANDY ALWAYS TASTES BETTER WHEN IT'S FROM STRANGERS

Amahl: OKAY

[He takes a piece of licorice and starts eating it just as his mother returns.]

Mother: GODDAMMIT AMAHL I TOLD YOU NOT TO BE OBNOXIOUS

Amahl: BUT I WASN'T

Balthazar: Yeah, you were.

Mother: Whatever. Just go and find the other shepherds and tell them to bring some food for our guests!

The Audience: So you want the child with a reputation for being a pathological liar to go and tell your neighbors that there are three kings staying at your house?

Mother: Of course. What could go wrong?

The Audience: [sigh]

[Amahl hobbles off into the night, while his mother admires all the shiny stuff the kings are traveling with.]

Mother: That's a lot of gold.

Melchior: Yuuuup.

Mother: Do you really need all of it? And did I mention that my son and I are penniless and starving?

Melchior: We can't spare a cent. It all has to go to the child.

Mother: And who is this child, exactly...?

Melchior: We don't really know. We're just following the star.

Mother: I see. Well, maybe I can help you out!

Melchior: I sincerely doubt it.

Mother: Oh, come on. How hard could it be?

Melchior: Okay. We're looking for a child who's the color of wheat.

Mother: That's not very specific.

Melchior: He could also be the color of dawn.

Mother: So, like... pinkish-red?

The Audience: Well, you know what they say – “Red savior at morning, sinners take warning...”

Menotti: Shut up.

Mother: In any case, I know a kid who looks just like that.

Melchior: Who?

Mother: My son! Your journey's at an end! Leave all the gold and frankincense and myrrh with us!

Melchior: Not gonna happen. Help me out, Balthazar.

Balthazar: He's the color of earth. Or maybe of thorns.

Mother: You're just naming weird colors. You have no idea what he looks like, do you.

Balthazar: Yes, we do. We totally do.

Mother: Okay. Height? Weight? Body type? Facial structure?

Melchior: Um... he can command the elements?

Kaspar: And he controls the sun and moon!

Balthazar: And he can tame animals with his mind.

Mother: Now you're just making shit up.

The Three Kings: HE'S SURROUNDED BY A LEGION OF ANGELS AND HIS MOTHER IS BOTH A VIRGIN AND A QUEEN

The Audience: … Queen Elizabeth gave birth to Jesus?

Mother: I'M STILL PRETTY SURE THAT MY SON IS THE KID YOU'RE LOOKING FOR SO PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR SHINY EXPENSIVE STUFF

The Three Kings: NNNNOPE

Chorus of Shepherds: [offstage] WE ARE A CHORUS OF SHEPHERDS

Mother: The shepherds are coming!

Melchior: Yeah, we got that. We're not deaf, you know.

Balthazar: [coughs awkwardly]

Melchior: Uh... right. Except for Kaspar.

Balthazar: Yeah. It's kind of a problem.

Kaspar: WHAT DID YOU SAY

Balthazar: Nothing.

[And then the chorus of shepherds makes its entrance, led by Amahl. They all seem to be afflicted with some sort of obsessive personality disorder where they can't stop making lists, because they pretty much just sing a bunch of names for about six pages of music.]

Chorus of Shepherds: EMILY MICHAEL BARTHOLOMEW JOSEPHINE ANGELA JEREMY ETHEL ELAINE PATTI BERNADETTE GEORGE BILL GEORGE JUNIOR BARACK ROSE MARTHA DONNA AMY

The Audience: GET TO THE POINT

Chorus of Shepherds: HOW ARE YOU WE'RE DOING FINE OH THAT'S WONDERFUL

[They reach the house and stare through the open door at the kings.]

Chorus of Shepherds: oooohhhhhh ahhhhhhhh

Mother: GIVE US YOUR FOOD

[And then the list-making starts again.]

Chorus of Shepherds: HERE IS ALL THE STUFF WE BROUGHT THERE'S SOME OLIVES AND QUINCES AND RAISINS AND NUTMEG AND CARDAMOM AND TEA LEAVES AND PORK RINDS AND TURDUCKEN AND JUICY JUICE AND GO-GURT AND POWERADE AND PROTEIN SHAKE MIX AND JELL-O PUDDING

Melchior: holy shit that's a lot of food

Chorus: EAT IT EAT IT ALL RIGHT NOW

Mother: Doesn't anyone want to dance for the kings?

Balthazar: That's really not necessary.

Mother: SOMEONE DO A DANCE RIGHT FUCKING NOW

[So then some shepherds do a dance.]

Balthazar: Ooookay. Well, thanks for the food and the entertainment, but we really need to go to sleep.

Chorus of Shepherds: OKAY SWEET DREAMS

[They all leave. Amahl and the kings and the page (remember him?) go to sleep, but Amahl's mother stays awake.]

Mother: THOSE FUCKERS HAVE SO MUCH GOLD AND THEY WON'T EVEN SHARE AND THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE POOR AND STARVING BECAUSE THEY'RE SNOOTY RICH BASTARDS

The Audience: Occupy Judea!

Mother: I COULD FEED MYSELF AND MY SON FOR A YEAR WITH A HANDFUL OF THAT GOLD SO I THINK I'M JUST GOING TO TAKE SOME BECAUSE WHAT COULD GO WRONG

[She takes some of the gold.]

The Page: THIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEFFFFFFFFFFF

Mother: Oh. That's what could go wrong.

[The page jumps on the mother and starts trying to wrestle the gold out of her hands.]

The Three Kings: [waking up] WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

The Page: SHE TOOK SOME OF OUR JESUS-GOLD

The Three Kings: WHAT A BITCH

Amahl: [hobbling over] GET THE FUCK OFF MY MOM YOU CARPET-CARRYING FUCK

The Page: MAKE ME

Amahl: [turning to the kings] Please don't let him hurt my mom! She's a nice lady when she's not stealing shit from unsuspecting guests! [turning back] I WILL WRECK YOUR SHIT IF YOU DON'T LET MY MOM GO RIGHT FUCKING NOW

[At a sign from one of the kings, the page releases Amahl's mother. She and Amahl collapse in a whimpering heap on the floor.]

Melchior: Look, you can keep the gold. This new savior doesn't need money or anything, because he's going to build his kingdom on love and smiles and rainbows!

The Audience: So... if you know he doesn't need your money, why the fuck are you lugging that heavy-ass chest to Bethlehem?

Melchior: Huh. You know, I really should have thought that through before we left.

The Audience: Yuuup.

Melchior: Whatever. In any case – the new savior loves poor people, so have fun with your ill-gotten money. [to the other kings] Let's get the hell out of here.

Mother: Actually, I think I'll give the gold back – but only because you were pretty passive-aggressive there and it made me feel kinda bad.

Menotti: And that was the first recorded instance of Catholic guilt.

The Audience: And by “first recorded instance,” you mean “I just made that up.”

Menotti: Yeah, pretty much.

Amahl: This new savior sounds pretty cool! Let's send him my crutch, just in case he's a cripple like me!

Mother: That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard. You need your crutch to walk, moron.

[But in his excitement, Amahl has gotten up and is walking without the crutch!]

Mother: Whaaaaaaaaat

The Three Kings: oh snap

Amahl: HOLY SHIT I CAN WALK

Mother: HOLY SHIT YOU CAN WALK

The Three Kings: HOLY SHIT IT'S A MIRACLE

[And everyone dances around in jubilation.]

The Audience: Sooo Baby Jesus cured him or something?

Menotti: Because of his selfless concern for someone he had never met!

The Audience: Either that, or Amahl was just lying about being crippled to get attention.

Menotti: SHUT UP IT WAS TOTALLY A MIRACLE

The Three Kings: O BLESSED CHILD CAN WE TOUCH YOU

The Audience: Gross.

The Three Kings: YOU KNOW IN A TOTALLY SPIRITUAL WAY OR WHATEVER

Amahl: Sure, knock yourselves out.

The Page: CAN I TOUCH YOU TOO

Amahl: Fuck you.

Mother: Be nice, Amahl.

Amahl: Fiiiine, he can touch me. But keep it above the belt, perv.

[The page touches Amahl.]

Amahl: OH MAN I'M SO EXCITED ABOUT ALL THE STUFF I CAN DO NOW THAT I CAN WALK

Everyone Else: YEAH IT'S PRETTY COOL

Amahl: HEY MOM CAN I TRAVEL WITH THE KINGS TO MEET THIS CRAZY GOD-BABY OR WHATEVER

Balthazar: Wait, what?

Melchior: Yeah, we don't actually want him to come along with us.

Kaspar: WHAT DID HE SAY

Melchior: HE SAID HE WANTS TO COME WITH US

Kaspar: OH FUCK NO HE'S ANNOYING AS SHIT

Amahl: SCREW YOU GUYS I'M A MIRACLE CHILD AND I CAN DO WHAT I WANT

Melchior: Fiiine, you can come.

Balthazar: Just try not to get yourself eaten by wild animals.

Amahl: YAAAAY

Mother: I don't know...

Amahl: PLEEEEASE

Mother: Okay, fine.

Amahl: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Mother: But don't forget to wash your ears and wear your hat and be a good boy!

Amahl: And can you take care of my cat while I'm away?

Mother: You don't have a cat anymore. I put him in the stew last week because we were about to starve to death.

Amahl: YOU TOLD ME HE WAS OUT HUNTING

Mother: Yeah, well... I lied. Deal with it.

Melchior: Oooookay. And with that awkward bit of family interaction completed, LET'S GET GOING

[The kings and the page process out of the house. Amahl gives his mother a last hug before running after the others. He starts playing his pipe in the distance, and his mother stares up at the star in the sky.]

Menotti: ISN'T IT HEARTWARMING

The Audience: Sure, except for the part where the story of the Three Kings doesn't actually include a random, formerly crippled boy.

Menotti: Yeah... he died about two days later. Mauled by a leopard.

The Audience: Oh. Wow. That's... kinda depressing.

Menotti: Yuuup.

[Awkward silence.]

Menotti: WOOOO MERRY CHRISTMAS

[End of the opera.]