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