Friday, September 23, 2011

A Rather Odd Sort of Play - Scene 1 - The Meeting


<Our tale does begin on a dark and stormy night
   A night dark and stormy enough to give Freddy Krueger a fright!
   The scene: a dark street
   One can hear the sound of feet
   A lamppost stands tall
   And illuminates it all
   It is a city far away, quite far, very far
   (Or very, very close; it all depends on where you are)
   The curtain rises
   The audience members of various sizes
   Take their seats and hold their breath
   The air is still; as still as death. 
   We see a man of countenance haughty
   Leading a child, not wicked, but naughty!
   The man huffs and he grumps, looks around him and sighs
   Takes out a pair of glasses, places them over his eyes
   And says- but wait! We haven't revealed yet his name
   Let there be no hassle on that point (a trifling one. But all the same...)
   The name of this gentleman with his hat on his head
    Is Isaac Menander. Let's use IM instead.
    And so this man Menander looks down and he says:->

IM <To his son>: Fear not the dog that bays!
                             For I shall protect you. Protect you...that's right.

<The worthy man shudders in what seems to be fright.
   He clasps the poor boy's hand with all of his might.
   When a vision in red sweeps into his sight.>

IM <To himself>: My God, that's pretty!
                              Come now Menander, think of something that's witty.

The lady: Oh sir!

IM <stupidly>: Derrrrrrr.....
                          Are you talking to me?

The lady: Why yes. You see
                 I seem to have lost my way.
                Could you do me a favour this fine sunny day?

IM: It's night.

The lady: Is that right?
               I could have sworn it was sunny.

IM <To himself>: Now that is most funny.
                              This lady is obviously not right in her mind.
                              But oh sweet Moses! What a behind!
    <To the lady>: Allow me to lend you my hand.
                             My name is Menander of Menander's Marching Band.
                             Perhaps you have heard of us? There's me, Larry, Curly, Mo...

The lady: I'm quite sorry but my answer is no.
                I do not believe I have heard of you lot.

IM <To himself>: The nerve! Oh well, she's hot.
     <To the lady>: I apologize. I didn't catch your name.

The lady: Elizabeth Brewitt. Formerly Dame.

IM: Formerly?

The lady: Yes. My husband recently died.

IM: Dear dear!

<And he sat down and cried>

EB: But Mr. M! Good heavens! What's the matter?
       Your behaviour does deem you as mad as a hatter.

IM: Do forgive me. The thing is my wife
       Recently died too after much pain and much strife
       Leaving me this boy that I named Master Bill
       A common enough name, quite common, but still...

EB: Oh you poor man! Do not say a word.
       For my heart has been melted from what I just heard.
       Pray tell which illness was it that finally nabbed her?

IM: Beg your pardon Miss Brewitt. You misunderstand. I stabbed her.

EB: Stabbed her you say!

IM: Yes. That was the way
       I finally rid her of her miserable life.

EB: Excuse me. I believe you mentioned much strife.
       But a stabbing is swift. So I must ask you, you see...

IM: Say no more! All the strife was for me.

EB: How so?

IM: She was a nag.

EB: Oh.

IM: So tell me, my dear, where is it that you live?

EB: Beg your pardon Mr. M. but I'm not inclined to give
       You my address after hearing a history like that.

<So saying she lifted her skirts and like a bat
   Out of hell she was gone when the bright morning came
   IM gazed wistfully after the scurrying ex-Dame.>

IM: Such a pity! She had a beautiful bod.

His son: Ah, shut it you slimy old sod.  


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