The Medium, Act II

Previous installment: Act I

Act II: The same goddamn setting as Act I, about a week later. Toby is putting on a puppet show for Monica because she's devolved into a six-year-old again. Monica applauds as he finishes.]

Monica: Yaaaaaay that was awesome and now I think I'll completely lose my grip on reality!

The Audience: Wow. Crazy really runs in your family, doesn't it.

[Monica starts waltzing with an invisible partner.]

Monica: LA LA LA SOMEONE IN THE SKY IS PLAYING A TROMBONE AND A GUITAR

Toby: {Bitch, I told you not to eat those magic mushrooms.}

The Audience: Also, trombone and guitar is just plain weird orchestration.

Toby: {Yeah, 'cause that's definitely the weirdest thing about this scene.}

Monica: [still dancing] MONICA MONICA SINGS IN THIRD PERSON

The Audience: … touché.

Monica: COME FLY WITH ME

LET'S FLY LET'S FLY AWAAAAY

[Toby takes Monica by the arm.]

Toby: {Okay, you need to calm down now.}

Monica: What is it, boy? Timmy fell down the old well?

Toby: {BITCH I AIN'T A GODDAMN DOG}

Monica: What is it you're trying to tell me?

Toby: {TO SHUT THE FUCK UP}

[And then Monica starts narrating Toby's thoughts, because apparently one bullshit psychic in the family isn't enough.]

Monica: “Monica, I know I'm just a poor mute gypsy boy that your mother took in off the street – ”

Toby: {Wow. You really know how to make a guy feel good about himself.}

Monica: “ – and I know I could never be worthy of someone so beautiful and graceful and super-foxy – ”

Toby: {You could make a living as a motivational speaker.}

Monica: “ – but I'm deeply, madly, passionately in love with you – ”

Toby: {Okay, now you're just making shit up.}

Monica: “ – I wanna – li-li-li-li-lick you from your head to your toes – ”

Toby: {Oh, come on.}

Monica: “ – I wanna – mooove from the bed, down to the – down to the floor – ”

Toby: {You're painting a grossly inaccurate picture of my sexual fantasies. Also, SING A DIFFERENT SONG}

[Monica's alternate personality suddenly takes over, and she starts freaking out.]

Monica: How dare you say such filthy things to me, slave!

The Audience: CAN WE DIAL BACK THE RACIST UNDERTONES PLEASE

Menotti: Nnnnnope.

Monica: Don't you know who I am? I'M A FUCKING QUEEEEEN

Toby: {CALM THE FUCK DOWN}

Monica: OFF WITH HIS HEAD

[Nice Monica resurfaces, and she has a full-on split-personality battle.]

Nice Monica: Toby... is our friend!

Evil Monica: Liiiiies! We hates him!

Nice Monica: We loves him!

[A great deal of hissing and spitting ensues.]

Evil Monica: Don't make us leave, precioussss... we can be good, yesss...

[Monica passes out on the floor.]

The Audience: Jesus fuck.

Toby: {I know, right?}

[Monica regains consciousness.]

Monica: Toby, I know you can't talk, but I think you have the most beautiful voice in the world!

Toby: {Yeah, silence is golden. SO WHY WON'T YOU EVER SHUT UP}

[Monica waltzes off into her room like nothing ever happened because she's fucking insane.]

The Audience: what is this I don't even

[The door slams. Baba enters, visibly drunk and carrying a half-finished bottle of liquor.]

Baba: Where th' fuck's Monica?

[Toby points in the direction of her room.]

Baba: Meh, whatever. Come sit on mama's lap, Toby.

[Toby shudders.]

Baba: COME HERE GODDAMMIT

The Audience: Jesus, this is creepy. Like... way creepier than the séance bullshit.

Toby: {Tell me about it.}

[Toby slowly approaches Baba and sits in her lap.]

Baba: Now, I know you're just a dirty gypsy child I picked out of the gutter in Budapest –

Toby: {WHY DOES EVERYONE KEEP BRINGING THAT UP TODAY}

Baba: – but I love you like you're my own son! That's why it hurts me so much whenever you make me hit you!

The Audience: Yeeeeeah, it's getting more awkward in here with every passing second. We're just gonna step outside for a minute –

The Ushers: [hiss menacingly]

The Audience: – or we could just stay here.

Baba: So I promise I'll never hit you again –

Toby: {I'll believe it when I see it.}

Baba: – and I'll also buy you a bunch of fancy shit –

Toby: {See previous comment.}

Baba: – but only if you tell me: were you the one who grabbed my throat during the séance last week?

The Audience: … haven't we been over this already?

Baba: I promise I won't get mad.

[Toby does nothing.]

The Audience: You know, now might be a good time to shake your head or something.

Toby: {Meh.}

Baba: Look, I know it was you. Just show me how you did it.

Toby: {You're not my real mom; you can't tell me what to do.}

Baba: MOTHERFUCKER ANSWER ME WHEN I ASK YOU A GODDAMN QUESTION

Toby: {MAKE ME}

[Baba calms down.]

Baba: See? You make me want to beat your shifty gypsy ass when I'm just trying to be your friend. Just tell me – I'll give you anything you want!

Toby: [gives zero fucks]

Baba: HOW ABOUT MONICA HOW'D YOU LIKE TO TAP THAT FINE JAILBAIT ASS

The Audience: Is she actually pimping out her daughter right now?

Toby: {Yes. Yes she is. Also, I don't want Monica 'cause SHE CRAZY.}

Baba: MAYBE IT WASN'T YOU BUT I KNOW YOU SAW WHO OR WHAT DID IT

Toby: [still gives zero fucks]

The Audience: JUST NOD OR SOMETHING SO SHE'LL CALM DOWN

Toby: {Nah, she usually just yells for a while and then passes out. Trust me; the worst part's already over.}

Baba: ANSWER ME YOU SON OF A BITCH

[Baba goes to the cupboard and takes out a whip – apparently she keeps her BDSM gear next to the cheese and crackers – and proceeds to chase Toby around the room and beat his ass with it.]

Toby: {OH GOD I WAS WRONG IT GOT SO MUCH WORSE}

[The whipping scene is super uncomfortable and it also goes on way longer than it needs to.]

My Blog Readers: oh god this isn't funny anymore

Me: Yeah, not so much.

[The doorbell rings. Monica, who apparently couldn't hear her alcoholic mother beating the shit out of a defenseless child, somehow hears the doorbell over all the yelling and the sounds of tearing flesh.]

Monica: Yaaaay for more customers!

The Audience: Jesus Christ. You have the worst selective hearing ever.

[Monica sees Baba and Toby.]

Monica: BABA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

Toby: {It's about goddamn time. HELP ME YOU DUMB BITCH}

Baba: [innocently] Oh, you know how it is... just a couple of bestest buddies roughhousing after pounding half a bottle of Jack. Like you do.

[Monica comforts Toby as the Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan enter.]

Mrs. Gobineau: Um... hi. Are we interrupting something?

Baba: The fuck are you guys doing here?

Mr. Gobineau: We're here for the séance. You know, the one that's been the same night every week for the past two years?

Baba: Ohhhhhhh, right. About that: I'm actually a fraud and I've been cheating you out of your money this whole time and I'm never doing another séance again so please go away and let me keep drinking myself to death.

Mrs. Nolan: Wait, what?

Baba: I FAKED EVERYTHING YOU MORONS

Mrs. Nolan: But –

Baba: HERE TAKE YOUR MONEY BACK AND GET OUT

Mr. Gobineau: Don't be ridiculous. You couldn't possibly have faked all that.

[Baba pulls back the curtain of the puppet theater and shows them all the switches.]

Baba: DO YOU GET IT NOW

Mr. Gobineau: But what about Mickey's laughter?

Baba: MONICA SHOW THEM

[Monica does the exact same baby laugh she's been doing every week for the past two years.]

Mr. Gobineau: … nah, I'm not buying it.

Mrs. Gobineau: Yeah, that doesn't sound like our son at all!

The Audience: [facepalm]

Mrs. Nolan: But what about Doodly?

[Monica puts on her dead teenager voice.]

Monica: … Moooom … Moooooooooooooooom …

Mrs. Nolan: I don't know where your daughter learned how to do impressions, Madame Flora, but she's terrible at it. I'd know my Doodly's voice anywhere, and that's not what I heard last week.

The Audience: [double-facepalm]

Mrs. Nolan: And I even found the gold locket she told me about!

Baba: EVERYONE HAS A GOLD LOCKET SOMEWHERE IT'S THE OLDEST TRICK IN THE BOOK

Mr. Gobineau: Waaaaait a minute. I think I know what's going on here –

Baba: [sighing] Finally.

Mr. Gobineau: – you thought you were cheating us out of our money, but you've actually been a real medium the entire time without even knowing it!

The Audience: [has a collective brain aneurysm]

Baba: That's the single dumbest thing I've ever heard in my very long life. Get the fuck out of my house.

The Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan: PLEASE LET US HAVE OUR SÉANCE

Baba: NO

The Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan: PLEEEEEEEEEEASE

Baba: I SAID NO

The Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan: PRETTY PLEASE WITH SOME SELF-DELUSION ON TOP

Baba: NO GODDAMMIT JUST TAKE YOUR MONEY AND GO AWAY

The Gobineaux and Mrs. Nolan: Fiiiine.

[They leave, sulking.]

Baba: Now, where was I? Oh, right. TOBY I HATE YOU

Monica: BABA BE NICE

Baba: I'm sick of being nice to this little asshole. TOBY GET OUT OF MY HOUSE AND NEVER COME BACK

Monica: What? But where will he go?

Baba: That's a great question. Ask me if I give a shit!

Monica: But you can't just throw him out into the street!

Baba: Watch me.

[Baba ignores Monica's protestations and chases Toby out of the house.]

Monica: YOU'RE THE WORST MOM EVER

Baba: GO TO YOUR ROOM

[Monica runs into her room and slams the door. Baba goes over to her liquor cabinet and pours herself another drink.]

Creepy Voice: … Moooom … Moooooooooooooooom …

Baba: HOLY SHIT

[She goes over to Monica's door.]

Baba: Monica? Did you just say something?

Monica: FUCK OFF I HATE YOU

Baba: … guess not.

[Baba locks Monica's door and keeps drinking.]

Creepy Voice: … Moooom … Moooooooooooooooom …

Baba: SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU ECTOPLASMIC MOTHERFUCKER

[She goes over to the table and sits down.]

Baba: Afraid... am I afraid? Could I really be afraid? Afraid afraid afraid?

The Audience: YES WE GET IT

Menotti: I lost my thesaurus when I was writing this part.

Baba: Soooo I've had a really long life and I've seen people being murdered and raped and shit and I never gave a fuck because I'm a straight-up badass... but for some reason, all this ghost shit has me scared enough to flip out and murder someone.

Menotti: Foreshadowing!

The Audience: Shut up.

Baba: OH GOD WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME

[Baba proceeds to have a full-scale meltdown, which ranges from rocking back and forth in a fetal position and singing the lullaby from Act I while weeping profusely...]

Baba: oh black swan where oh where has my sanity gone

[...to fits of maniacal laughter...]

Baba: AHAHAHAHA I AIN'T AFRAID OF NO GHOSTS

[...to crying and praying.]

Baba: Holy Mary, Mother of God, please help me STOP TRIPPING BALLS

[And finally she just passes out on the table.]

The Audience: Well, that was awkward.

[Toby enters, having returned to collect his few belongings.]

Toby: {grumble grumble bitch gonna throw me out without letting me get my tambourine and shit}

[He creeps past Baba to Monica's door and finds it locked. He knocks quietly, and Baba stirs in her sleep.]

Toby: {fuck fuck fuck}

[He hides behind the couch, but Baba doesn't wake up. Eventually he emerges and starts rummaging around in a trunk for his tambourine, because a loud obnoxious percussion instrument is exactly what everyone needs when they're trying to be silent.]

The Audience: We'd facepalm, but our hands are starting to get sore.

[The trunk lid falls shut suddenly and makes a loud goddamn noise.]

The Audience: Saw that coming.

[Toby dives into the puppet theater as Baba wakes up.]

Baba: WHAT THE FUCK WHO'S THERE

[There's no response. Baba reaches into a drawer in the table and pulls out a gun.]

Chekhov: THERE ARE LIKE THREE PAGES LEFT IN THE OPERA WHY ARE WE ONLY SEEING THE GUN NOW

Menotti: Shut up.

Baba: I SWEAR TO GOD I'LL SHOOT EVEN THOUGH BULLETS PROBABLY WON'T DO ANYTHING TO A GHOST

[The curtain of the puppet theater moves slightly.]

Baba: AAAAAHHHHHHH HOLY FUCKING SHIT

[Baba empties the revolver into the puppet theater. Blood gets everywhere.]

Baba: WOOO I'VE KILLED THE GHOST

The Audience: You are officially too dumb to live.

[Toby stumbles out of the puppet theater with six bullet holes in his chest and collapses on the floor.]

Baba: … huh. That ghost looks an awful lot like Toby.

Monica: [through the door] BABA WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

[Baba unlocks the door and Monica rushes out.]

Baba: Guess what! I'm a Ghostbuster now!

Monica: JESUS CHRIST YOU KILLED TOBY

Baba: Wait, seriously? … shit.

Monica: THIS IS WHY WE CAN'T HAVE NICE THINGS

[Monica runs outside, screaming for help. Baba approaches Toby's corpse and leans in close.]

Baba: Okay, so I know I've asked you this a lot, but I promise this is the last time. Were you the one who touched me during the séance?

Toby's Corpse: [bleeds on the carpet]

Baba: You know, whenever you feel like answering. Just take your time.

The Audience: [facepalm]

[End of the opera.]

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