blather_play_collaboration paste! ACT I (enter Orchin, Alaska and All Its Inhabitants) One of Its Inhabitants 1: So you see the triangle, combined with the scent of hooves (and a little elbow grease, mind you), at any temperature, even 23 degrees Kelvin, will reverberate with the same frequency given to the first sibling of the first family of any given month, except March, of course. One of Its Inhabitants 2: Why do you always start everything with “So you see?” What if I don’t see? (exit Orchin, Alaska and All Its Inhabitants)(end ACT I) 010806 ... tremagio_the_fierce ACT II (enter two Chainsaws, second Cornonthecob) First Chainsaw: I make sure that you go to school little one. Second Cornonthecob (humming “Do that to me one more time”): I can’t get that song out of my head, can you slice off my third medialateral kernel in direct consplacency with my breathing. And destroy the eighteenth cranio-dorsal kernel within my appendages of light, please. Second Chainsaw: Will do, monsieur. First Chainsaw: Shall we in unison? Second Chainsaw: Yeah, why not, I’m feeling a little rebellious today, (laughs) as you know. First Chainsaw: Aye! That’s a classic! The Chainsaws (in unison): A classic! (the Chainsaws slice up the second Cornonthecob. Transition.) 010806 ... baby satan ACT III [enter Vanderfookin and Three Apprentices, riding an invisible navel of love] First Apprentice: Is it right to praise you as such a divine being? Vanderfookin: That depends upon a number of criteria. Second Apprentice: Why not address the most appropriately relevant criterion, then? Vanderfookin: Very well. I shall start with this apple. [fondles an apple] You see, with this apple, I kill thee. [hurles the apple at Third Apprentice]. Third Apprentice: Ouch. I am hurting. [he falls to the ground, mortally wounded] Second Apprentice: [rushing to Third Apprentice's side] What was that for? Are you mad? Vanderfookin: When I can't get it up, yes. Quite irked am I. Third Apprentice: [pulls a tuft of Second Apprentice's hair] I always loved the way you looked bathing in the nude. [he dies] Second Apprentice: NOOOOOOOO!!! WHY?!?!?!?! First Apprentice: You did ask him to address the most appropriately relevant criterion, did you not? Second Apprentice: Oh...right. Fine, then. Shall we continue? Vanderfookin: Certainly. But first, let us find a kettle in which to urinate. We will then drink the contents of the kettle. First Apprentice: You mean...drink our own piss? Vanderfookin: Precisely. Now let's away! Tallyfaddle! [they exit as they came, while Third Apprentice is ravaged by a curious spaghetti noodle] (end ACT III) 010807 ... baby satan ---PAUSE TO NOTE AN ATTROCIOUS SPELLING ERROR"hurles" should clearly be "hurls"--- 010807 ... paste! ACT IV (enter McGee, Wrigley Field, Jimmy, others) McGee: McGee here. McGee: We are merely the sum of our farts. McGee here. (exit McGee) Wrigley Field: Oh, what a triumph! what a triage! bring on the unit! bring on the unit! the hedges! Jimmy: I'm at the lyberry, or the bookstore, someshit, went off mumbling someshit about rewriting histry, or reriding histry, motorcading histry, something. All But Jimmy: Jimmy Jimmy So-Cal Fresh!! Jimmy: The same! The very fucking same! All Including Jimmy: And the doodalidoo down the parcirameter! Oh ho ho, Ha ha ha! (end ACT IV) 010808 ... baby satan ACT V (enter Baby Satan and Baby Jesus) Baby Jesus: I love you. But your recent sporadic bursts of blatheractivity concern me. I'm worried about you, man. Baby Satan: [undressing quickly] Horseshit. Go hump a streetlight or something. Baby Jesus: I refuse to do such a thing. And why are you taking your clothes off? Baby Satan: Do I really need a reason? My baggage deserves to be displayed for all to see. Baby Jesus: [obviously embarrassed, he is lost for words] Baby Satan: Ha! [rips Baby Jesus's nose from his face and throws a mean curveball] (exit noseless Baby Jesus, and enter Mama Jameson) Baby Satan: [noting Mama Jameson's entrance, he freezes in a pose of incredible sexual tension] Ho...ly...FUCK!!! Mama Jameson: Do me, boy! Fuck me like there's no yestyday! Baby Satan: Yes m'am! Bend your ass over! (end ACT V, with cancerous shrieking buried beneath kelp) 010809 ... vanderfookin rises ACT VI [THE SUN RISES AND THEN SETS AGAIN, WITHIN THE HAGGARD BELLY OF AN UPTURNED CACTUS. FATHER GUS IS PRESENT, SPEAKING TO HIS UNSEEN SHADOW.] FATHER GUS: The wind does not sing as it used to. The song has grown weak and weary. They say this year will be our last. UNSEEN SHADOW: Of whom do you speak? FATHER GUS: They. [ENTER THEY] UNSEEN SHADOW: I see, though I remain unseen. FATHER GUS: I spoke with God last night. In his haste, he broke a button. Sad as the moment was, heavy with death, we found joy to weep from our pores. Joy for the end of it all. The slow death of antiquity. A residual motion. We wept, and for the first time, I held him in my heart. God is rather small, once you give him cause to weep. UNSEEN SHADOW: I witnessed no such thing, but I feel I was there. THEY: Dimples. Pasty infestation. Impure abdication. FATHER GUS: When They stripped me of my power, I asked only to keep my title, for it means so much more than any name I've ever had. THEY: Unchecked egotism. Furtive monkey. UNSEEN SHADOW: A poor authority to place your trust in, I fear. The runoff is pure madness. FATHER GUS: When He left me, I knew it was for the last time. God will not speak to me again. I strain to hear him, but there is only the sound of indifference, which is not a sound so much as a knife in the thigh of hope. THEY: It bleeds. It bleeds eternal. UNSEEN SHADOW: Yes, but the flesh is resilient. The rules can be bent. There is such a thing as perseverance. It lives within you still. A parasite that sustains itself. FATHER GUS: Such a thing cannot be quantified, or quarried, or quarantined. THEY: Deafness. Always deafness. UNSEEN SHADOW: You must trust your shadow before allowing other forces to guide you. No good will come of blindly following the gospel of They. THEY: Truth is lies. Truth is lies. No truth. [THE UNSEEN SHADOW IS DEMOTED BY THEY, TO A VAGUE WHISPER IN THE HULL] FATHER GUS: Before God left me for the last time, he told me something I could not understand. I understand it now. Not in words, but in the place beyond words. They will guide me home. WHISPER IN THE HULL: They will not silence me. They cannot kill me. As long as there is a whisper, there is a suggestion. There can be great power in suggestion. FATHER GUS: I feel a faint whining in my skull. Like the wet teeth of a jagged stone kissing my heart. THEY: Very heavy. END OF ACT VI 120101 ... Lady Chinaski ACT VII [enter Maude and Policeman #9] Policeman #9: Do you know what year this is? Maude: This is the year of the trumpet flower. The year of sequins. The year of mosquito bites. The year of goat cheese. Policeman #9: I'm going to have to ask you to blow into this. (holds up jar) Maude: If you must, you may ask. Policeman #9: Will you blow into this? Maude: I'd rather tap-dance. (Maude tap-dances out. Policeman #9 sighs into the jar. He puts the lid back on, and explodes into a million sequins) 120102 what's it to you? who go blather from