Saturday, February 18, 2012
Miss Prunella Vulgaris, The Duchess of Hammer-on-Dulcimer, esteemed member of the Peonage
Juan, The Earl of Valdez, less esteemed member of the Peonage
Lemmy, noted baritone bassist & collector of blow-em-up baubles
Kid Darkthrone, not-very-noted local misanthrope, reformed
The Potato Witches of the Caucasus, pastiche weirdos who know a big secret
When we last just one last this time left our not-that-intrepid-you-remember Peonage, 'twas a not-that-jolly-you-remember jaunt to Incarceration Nation. With the traitorous FRYER BUNGY as their fixer-cum-traitor until his betrayal, the Peonage next encountered a fellow traveler, wow, that's like on two distinct levels, how this has no chance to win a Pulitzer your humble playwright will never know.
DUCHESS (angry): Now wait a goshdarn minute --
LEMMY (angrier): You wait a fuckin' minute --
KID DARKTHRONE also steps forward from the jailhouse shadows.
KID DARKTHRONE (angriest, but not as angry as Lemmy): How about you both wait a minute!
EARL (incredulous): Kid Darkthrone!
DUCHESS (flabbergasted): He's reverted back to nefarious diabolism!
KID DARKTHRONE (okay you can stop now): Nein!
EARL: See, he's working for the Iron Chancellor, just like Che, I mean, Bungy!
LEMMY: Don't know no fuckin' Bungy but Bismarck's a bloody bleedin' bastard & I aim t' burgle --
LEMMY: the rarest piece of war memorabilia since Arminius's fossilized wienerschnitzel --
KID DARKTHRONE: Otto's stache!
LEMMY (über-emphasizing): His fake stache. Bloke didn't start winnin' till he glued that on his fuckin' face.
EARL: You're not stealing it for yourself, you're stealing it for England!
LEMMY: Fuck off. Wouldn't gimme a work visa. No work visa, no Star-Club featurin' Motörhead, & soon, no fuckin' victories.
STAGEHAND enters. STAGEHAND holds idea bulb over DUCHESS' head.
DUCHESS (whispering): You're not supposed to use a real one. Jeez.
STAGEHAND & bulb exeunt.
DUCHESS: Listen up! We can join together, because two sets of meddling kids are always better than one for purloining perps. That creepy thing for you, & for us --
THE POTATO WITCHES OF THE CAUCASUS also step forward from the jailhouse shadows, also.
WITCH #1: The Fabergé Potato.
Everyone gasps except LEMMY.
WITCH #2: We see all.
WITCH #3: We know all.
LEMMY: 'cept how to avoid Polizei. Parlor trickin' chicksmumblejumblewhiskey.
WITCH #1: We are here --
WITCH #2: because you need --
WITCH #3: our help.
LEMMY: Bloody 'ell.
LEMMY sneers, but THE POTATO WITCHES, through incredible potato alchymie, shift dimensions or tear a hole in space-time or some technobabble but a mystick technobabble because that always sells to certain demographic groups your humble playwright doesn't mind selling out but he prefers the term buying in & send DUCHESS, EARL, LEMMY & KID DARKTHRONE to the refuge of an escape tunnel.
LEMMY (crawling): What the fuckin' 'ell? Why not just fly us to safetymumblejumblewhiskey.
DUCHESS (crawling): My sentiments nearly.
KID DARKTHRONE (crawling & singing): ♪ Laaaaaand of the loooooost ♫
EARL (crawling): Woo-wee-ooh-ooh. I know exactly what the witches' plan is!
DUCHESS (still crawling): How?
EARL (still crawling but now pointing): Look!
Our four still-not-intrepid heroes okay maybe LEMMY exit the tunnel & find themselves in full daylight, the awesomely imposing facade of a dime store lording over them, a German dime store because they're still in Germany. DUCHESS, EARL, & LEMMY enter whilst KID DARKTHRONE stands watch.
CASHIER (bored): Limey gonna purchasen somezing, ja?
EARL: May I have ten thousand marbles, please?