Frederico’s Flamenco Act: 2 Scene: Uno

So I wrote this place once called “The Erotic Incarnations of Princess Plum”. This play actually had a stage life. It was awesome. Needless to say, that play spawned other plays in the same vein. I compiled them all into a book called “A Hollow Monk’s Dreams”. (You can download the ebook version for 99 cents right now!)

This is an excerpt from one of those plays. It’s my Midsummer Night’s Dream inspired play where fairies wreak havoc on the lives of innocent mortals. In this case, the fairies are mucking up the wedding of the Princess of Swords and Generic Dan. This is causing the Princess’s mother, the Queen of Swords, no end of trouble.

Black. From onstage you hear QUEEN OF SWORDS give an “Ah ha!” of triumph and GENERIC DAN (in full Giant Albino Chicken gear) squawks in fear. Lights up. QUEEN OF SWORDS is facing GENERIC DAN ready to pounce. The QUEEN OF SWORDS is holding a knife and they are circling each other slowly. GENERIC DAN is clucking in warning and caution while the QUEEN OF SWORDS is taunting him. She stabs at him occasionally and GENERIC DAN jumps back.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: I’ve finally found you, you feathered fecal smear! Tear my daughter’s dress will you? I’ll show you what happens to those that cross me wrong!

GENERIC DAN: (insistently) Cluck! Cluck-cluck-cluck! Bawk! Bawk! (throw in a wing gesture or two)

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What was that? I’ll not be addressed by a Giant Bird in such a manner!

QUEEN OF SWORDS lunges at DAN and begins to chase him. He is clucking hysterically. He turns to face QUEEN OF SWORDS after a moment and knocks the knife from her hand. She then resorts to choking him and he returns the favor. PAN enters in the middle of this and watches for a while before he steps in to break it up.

PAN: My queen, I assure you, my chicken is gentle and deserves no choking of any kind.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Balderdash! He shredded the Princess’s wedding dress and has ultimately caused a three day delay in the very wedding itself.

PAN: (to GENERIC DAN) Does she speak true? (GENERIC DAN shrugs helplessly.) You dreadful little imp! I turn my back for a moment and you start spreading chaos without me? Nasty! Bad chicken! (PAN turns back to QUEEN OF SWORDS) You really must forgive him. I’m sure he had his reasons. I mean, He’s a Giant Albino Chicken for Oberon’s sakes! What’d you expect?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: I expected a bit of training and restraint.

PAN: Come now! He’s under a lot of stress lately!

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Chickens can’t be stressed even if they are Giant and Albino in nature.

PAN: Well you tell him that. Go ahead, he’s right here. Go on.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What if I give him a few hurtful pokes with my blade instead?

PAN: No, no. I’m sure that won’t do. We must give our fowl friend a fighting chance. I know! We can play a game. If you win, I’ll give you Lou, here.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: And on the off chance that you arise victorious?

PAN: Well, given your obviously unstable nature and tendency towards violence involving weapons of a prickly nature, I think you should be remanded to the Isolation Chamber.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What are you jabbering about? Isolation Cell indeed!

PAN: It’s Isolation Chamber Chamber.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What be it, whatever it’s called?

PAN: It’s really the most gnarly place you’ll ever visit. Imagine a world where you can view all that goes on but cannot affect it in any way. Your presence is completely undetected. That’s exactly what it’s like, only the picture is better. What think you?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Methinks that it sounds like something that fell out of your chicken’s arse!

PAN: (bows humbly) You are most possibly absolutely correct, my vicious Queen. I am but a mad fool after all. No station or birth to speak of, not me. Just a flea really. And everyone who is three plus one kens that the gods smile on nobility and the rich first because that’s who really pays their bills.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: How very true. (beat as she thinks) So be it. After all, this is a time of fellowship being a wedding. And I could use your friend here to replace the meat for the feast that was mysteriously stolen from the butcher’s last evening…

PAN: My thoughts exactly, except on a much more humble scale than your own…

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What’s the game, tell me that first.

PAN: I’m glad you asked! (pulls out deck) I call this one “Guess the card.” See, you cut the deck any way you want then I guess the card that’s on top.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Seriously?

PAN: Deliriously, even.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: You are a mad fool. (Grabs deck and cuts it. She hold it out to PAN) Tell me.

PAN: (gazes at deck and names card. QUEEN OF SWORDS turns it over and cries out in surprise.) Hum. Well you know what they say, “Winners win and losers suck.”

QUEEN OF SWORDS yells and tries to attack PAN when FAIR enters.

FAIR: Halt!

PAN: Problems, my Queen?

FAIR: Aye. I don’t like this scene. As a matter of fact, stop it all. Can I get everyone up here, please? (Entire Cast to this point enters) Take a seat, will you? (All Sit) Listen, I’m not sure about you guys, but I don’t like where this is going.

DEWDROP CHILD: Where’s it going?

FAIR: That’s just it. You can tell exactly where it’s going.

DEWDROP CHILD: Point?

FAIR: Point is, that’s very uncharacteristic of our guy.

PRINCESS OF SWORDS: I see what you mean. He does just sort of let it flow, doesn’t he? Writes as he sees and all that.

FAIR: Exactly. But this? This isn’t what happened! Not really. I mean, he started out good. But it just sort of…

GENERIC DAN: Got stale?

FAIR: Maybe not so harsh, Generic Dan. He can be a bit oversensitive when he feels vulnerable.

GENERIC DAN: What then?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Perhaps it lost a bit of its luster?

FAIR: I like the way that sounds. Slightly positive with a wholly negative undertone. Brilliant.

DOLORIA WILD: What should we do then?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Well, I for one don’t want to be imprisoned in the Containment Ward.

PAN: It’s Isolation Chamber!

QUEEN OF SWORDS: Whatever.

PAN: And you most certainly will be imprisoned because you lost.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: You cheated!

PAN: I did not! What is it with you people?

FAIR: Pan, enough! She’s right. The Isolation Chamber need not be used here.

GENERIC DAN: If I may interject…

PAN: No! No you may not! Next you’ll be saying you don’t want to be Lou any longer.

GENERIC DAN: I couldn’t have concocted it better myself, milord.

PAN: This sucks. No one plays fair. (begins pouting and FAIR leans over and whispers into his ear. He smiles mischievously) Aye. Aye, that’ll do ‘em just fine.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: What will?

PAN Shrugs and ignores the QUEEN OF SWORDS. Enter the PARDONER and the SUMMONER. Both are arguing about the texture of the Crown of Thorns and whether or not angels softened it into a crown of lilies. As a result, they are completely oblivious to their new surroundings. They reach center stage and stop, gazing confusedly around. They see the cast staring at them and walk over to where they are seated.

PARDONER: (To Dewdrop) I say, know you the right and proper way back to the road to Canterbury? It seems my cohort and I have lost our ways. See, we were traveling with a group of pilgrims to the Shrine of St. Thomas a’Beckett…you’ve heard of it? (All look at each other in confusion)

DOLORIA WILD: Oh! St. Thomas A’ Beckett?

PARDONER: Yes, yes! That’s the one!

DOLORIA WILD: Nope. Never heard of it.

SUMMONER: I dare say we’ve wandered into some fool’s nightmare.

FAIR: Tis more of an Idiot’s Dream, but wandered? Nay. Not even, Steven.

PARDONER: What then?

PAN: Then it’s odd, Claude.

FAIR: Pan, please. (to PARDONER) You were borrowed.

PARDONER: Borrowed?

FAIR: Aye.

SUMMONER: By whom?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: By our guy.

SUMMONER: Does our guy know?

FAIR: I don’t see how it’s important. Your guy’s dead.

SUMMONER: Dead?

PAN: Dead as Disco. For many hundreds of years and countless other here’s.

PARDONER: Be there a reason we were borrowed?

QUEEN OF SWORDS: As a matter of fact, there is. We need a priest. Ours seems to have come down with the chicken flu or some such bug, shortly after breakfast.

SONATA UNUSUAL: How painstakingly convenient! Can one of ye be a priest?

PARDONER: I do pardon people’s sins allowing them entrance into heaven.

SUMMONER: And I summon people to receive God’s justice for their wrongs.

SONATA UNUSUAL: That is beautifully paradoxical.

QUEEN OF SWORDS: That’ll work. Maybe in the gods’ eyes the two of you together will make one real priest.

Fade Lights.

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About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on January 22, 2012, in Author, Fiction, writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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