“The Winter of Discontent”


A note before we begin: These works are presented unedited from when they were finished. This one was written in Spring of 2006

A short playe naméd The Winter of Discontent Turned Summer by a Great Dragon Spewing Fire Everywhere

Personæ Dramatis and people of the playe:

Baroness Jennifer Fetterman, liegeman of Londinium

David Liggett, said to be the boyfriend of Jennifer

Franco Oberes, High Jumper and  Runner

Young José, imported slave

Principal Emilio Fernandez, Sage

Others

Act I Scene I

Baroness Jennifer Fetterman was borne in London, England under the reign of Emperor Arthur MacArthur in the era of Kingdomcome. Beholdeth and behest, a great neesing leviathan torment’d the city of London. Many men tried as they may to kill the great monstre, yea, but succeeded not. Save one man, the great knight Sir Crapsalot, dar’d with great valor and an extra toothbrush to seek out this monster and put a stop to his nefarious agonite. Now it came to pass that the squire of Sir Crapsalot was a squirrelish boy naméd Franco Oberes. This young beefy boy could jump higher than a house (although so can I; have you ever seen a house jump?) and beheld the ability to run alongside a horse. In fact, he did. Sir Crapsalot held no part in sharing his horse with a squire. Now it came to pass that in that day of discontent entreated Emperor MacArthur his son and Baroness Fetterman to a feast in the court.

José: How do you get an Oxford graduate off your porch?

George: Pray, how?

José: You pay for the pizza.

Emperor: Peace!

José: How many Oxford freshman does it take to light a candle?

George: How many?

Emperor: Did you hear me, José?! Quiet in the court!

José (quietly): They can’t. It’s a sophomore course.

Emperor: Welcome O Baroness, and sit you in yon’ chair. Met thou mein heir, Douglas?

Jennifer: Believe I that I have had the chance, MacArthur. Recognizeth, I would’st, his corn-cob pipe anywhere. (To all you Shakespeare Professors out there: I‘m sorry. I make fun of everything, and Middle English is no exception. Oh, by the way, the Dry Cleaners called. They wanted to know if you needed your shirts re-stuffed.)

Emperor: José! Bring ye scones! Pray, did’st I mention the affairs of Doug’s vestings? He is now a major, yea, and a soldier to be reckon’d with. Just ask North Korea. And Truman.

(José bringeth scones)

José: Shall this be all, your sireship?

Emperor: Bang thyself on the head by means of a stick. That shall be it, then.

José: That causeth pain, Emperor MacArth’r.

Emperor: What, and is’t not banging pleasurable to thee?

José: Truly, sir. Many of mine favourite memories art associated with “banging.”

Emperor: Get thee gone, then. And haste.

(Exit José)

Emperor: Now, have you heard of the great leviathan running amock outside the village?

Fetterman: ‘Tis a rumour. Has it no gravity at all. For if there were a dragon lying even within three leagues of London, many of our knights would have perish’d.

MacArthur: Aye, indeed many have. Some attribute this to a leviathan. Others to an el lagarto who liveth in the stream.

Fetterman: Yea, the latter must be correct. This dragon business shall never amount to a thing.

MacArthur: I am not partial to rumours, but the discord of late hath disturb’d our progress. Truly, in respect to a fine baroness as you, I am afear’d that our quota of soft cheeses may not be filled.

Fetterman: *Gasp* Blasphemy! Sticks! Stones! Worse than wretched peasants! How dare they not fulfill the soft cheese quota? Dare I venture, *gulp* Mozzarella?

MacArthur: Truly, even mozzarella.

Fetterman: This goldbricking can go on no longer! Order by your crown the heathens back to work! I will not have less than my fair share of soft cheeses! Perhaps young Doug may address the village.

Emperor: Yes! Let’s to it then.

(Exeunt)

José: Your Mama is so poor that when I stole a quid from her she missed it.

Open Act I Scene II

In the yard of Sir Crapsalot preparing his things for his journey to the dragon.

Sir: Boy! Come ou’ here at once! I can remember not whether this is four quarts, eight pints, or a gallon.

Franco: Ah, Sir! Go’ Gi’ Go’ e’en. (Don‘t even try to understand, OK?)

Sir: What werst thou doing in there?

Franco: Reading.

Sir: Thou canst read?

Franco: Truly, sir. When I want to.

Sir: Then why did’st thou read not that map whilst we were traveling a while ago?

Franco: Verily, I wanted not to. I was eating.

Sir: Many thanks! Get me my rule so I may’st measure this string.

Franco: A’it. (Exit into hut)

Sir: Imagine the fame and glory I shall receive when I slaughter that great dragon and display it stuff’d in my new commonwealth. I shall receive honor and glory and wealth and fame and… babes. Since I am so incredibly goodly in mine looks.

(Franco comes out of the hut)

Franco: Ah, Sir! Go’ Gi’ Go’ e’en.

Sir: Whither is mine rule?

Franco: What rule?

Sir: Aargh! Never thou mind! Assist me in the tying of my bow. I know not whether to use a knot or macramé.

Franco: Bow? For a present?

Sir: No, thou saucy fellow! The bow which I shall use on yon’ leviathan! This bow shall help me in mine odyssey for fame, respect, and discounts at Cedric’s Burger. Mmm. *Drools* Let us work, then. Get thee hither. When I say “us,” meanst I “thou.” I must goeth into yon’ hut to prepare mine shiny armour. Although I like not to cover my pretty flesh.

(Exit Sir Crapsalot)

Franco: By my honour I wish that there is no leviathan and Sir returneth with but a reed of grass. How then shall he be the object of respect, fear, and sex? He shall indeed be the object of ridicule and scorn. Shall I then steal away.

In London, Prince Douglas MacArthur addresseth the public on the matter of the dragon.

Big Mac: Lend me thine ears, countrymen of London. I speaketh of the great leviathan.

(The crowd breaketh out in arguing and murmuring. The only audible word is “leviathan”)

Villager: Peace, ho! I will hear Prince MacArthur speak!

Another Villager: Peace, hoe! Peace, shovel! Peace, rake!

José: Peace, of cake.

Commoners: Shut up, José!

Big Mac: I assure you, there is no dragon. For if there were, would I not defend thee?

José: Thy soldiers would, actually.

Big Mac: Shut up! Go clean something, Mexican! I assure you all, there is no… (A Tyrannosaurus Rex‘s roar is heard very clearly, albeit from a distance) …Dragon! Aaaah!

(The city breaks into chaos. Everyone starts pillaging, looting, and seeking esconse (shelter) in reinforced buildings. Several fights break out, one of which involves Muhammad Ali.)

In the Throne Room

Emperor: Ō factum male! Ō miselle Passer! Lugetē, Ō Venerēs Cupidinēsque! How shall we survive this?

Big Mac: My army cannot fight! The city is in panic! O who can save us?!

Cut to: Sir Crapsalot’s hut. He is admiring himself in three full-length mirrors, wearing a suit of armor.

Sir: Holla, sexy!

Franco: Holla.

Sir: Not you! Prepare my arsenal, for tomorrow we go to war!

Franco: (hushed) Oh, stick it up your arsenal.

Sir: What?

Franco: Uh, I sayeth, your arsenal is very big.

Sir: Thank you.

“Holla” actually was a word back then, believe it or not. (I‘d prefer that you believe it.)

Act I Scene III

In a cathedral. Many commoners are sitting around, not really knowing what to do. Nuns are distributing soup.

David Liggett: This dragon shall stand no chance against our mighty fighting forces. What, is a leviathan more mighty even than sword, speare, and arrow?

Foreigner named “Pupa”: Ō Sancta Maria! Magnus Draco nos omnes occidebit! Scio id! Et edebit osses nostros! (O Holy Mary! The dragon will kill us all! I know it! And he will eat our bones!)

David: Be you calm! Dragonus willus be killedus. Verstehen sie? El dragono will dieo. Le arrows et darti will boomus into dragonæ heartus. Je ne sais qua le dragon willus dous to usus but willus notus survivo.

Nun: I speak Latin, sir. I have to; I am a Catholic. Es secura in hoc. Draco occidebetur.

Pupa: Minime! Draco fortior est! Occidebit nos omnes!

Nun: Noli Dimmitere. Est secura.

Pupa: Non! Draco fortissimus est animal! Occidebit nos omnes!

Nun: Dixi te esse securam, tu idiota!

Pupa: Non! Non! Non secura! Nos omnes occidebuntur!

Nun: Shut up!

(Three nuns try to restrain Pupa, but she resists. The nuns then beat her into submission.)

David: Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel safe. I have direct contact with the castle, and they have assured me that there is nothing to worry about. The dragon will be dead by tomorrow.

Commoner: A lot you know! Yonder leviathan shall eat us and use our bones as kindling.

Other Commoner: No. He is right. Sir Crapsalot shall put an end to this. Dragon and all.

Female Commoner: That is one pretty duke. *Sigh* Hath I the Sir Bobblehead.

Second Female: May’st I borrow it? Sir Crapsalot is such a faitor.

Male Commoner: Indeed. He is one handsome fellow. (Everyone looks at him.) I’ve heard.

David: One thing is for certain. The royal magistrate shall know what action to take.

Wipe to: The Throne Room

Emperor: I don’t want to die!

Big Mac: I’m sorry, Fahder, but in this utter chaos, I was only able to organize one small group of well-equipped soldiers.

Emperor: Oh, what can we do, but wait in here for Sir Crapsalot to slay the dragon?

Big Mac: We could join him.

Emperor: No. To go out in the night like this without proper fire would be to march into Troy without a horse.

José: You know, Sigmund Freud’s thoughts on the horse infiltrating Troy was a suppressed fantasy of one’s…

Arthur and Douglas: Shut up, José!

Emperor: During the havoc, Sir Crapsalot’s house was not affected; He lives far enough outside the village. He would be more equipped to handle this sort of thing than we.

Big Mac: A scary thought. Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel, which smok’d with bloody execution, Like valor’s minion, carv’d out his passage Till he fac’d the slave; and ne’er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him.

Emperor: …What?

Big Mac: A scary thought. Disdaining fortune, with his brandish’d steel, which smok’d-

Emperor: Yes, yes. I- I heard what you said. What I meant was that… uh, what?

Big Mac: We’re in trouble.

Emperor: Oh! Okay. I gotcha. Um, anyway, it- it is decided by the crown: Sir Crapsalot must face the dragon alone. The situation e’er may change if the elements permit it. Good e’en, worthy gentlemen. And José Triay.

José: Thank you, s’rrrrrrrrrr.

Switch to: Somewhere else in the castle

Jennifer: O Valiant cousin! May you bid well on thy journey to rid England of the Leviathan. And Godspeed.

Cut to: Sir’s bed

Sir: (while sleeping) Santa? I want not a train set or tha’ fire truck. Nor doth I want an harmonica. All I e’er wanted… was a simple petunia. Maybe a lilia. My siblings do contrive to make a weakling of me. I’ll show ‘em all. You’ll see.

Time Lapse

Morning. Franco wakes up Sir by tapping him, then dumping water on him.

Franco: Wakey wakey!

Sir: *Gasp!* Was there at least shampoo in that?

Franco: No.

Sir: Arg! So I’ll have to shower anyway!

Franco (quietly): Yes, please do.

Act II Scene I- Outside Sir Crapsalot’s house

Sir is standing outside wearing his full suit of armor. He is standing with his hands on his hips and one of his feet on a stump. Franco Oberes is readying his things.

Sir: Ah, forsooth, today is a day of truth. For I shall slay the great leviathan and ascend to godhood in England. Dang it; I lost the rhyme. Ah well, I’ve ne’er been a poet. Then, when I ascend to godhood, all the girlies shall be mine.

Franco: Okay, all is done.

Sir: Hm? Oh. Right. Help me mount. (once mounted) Oh, most bad fact! Lo and behold, I forgot my McBacon and Cheese inside. Be a good peasant and go fetch it.

Franco: He’ ‘tis.

Sir: Good. And now what then? Helmet! Aah. Now, only one question remains.

Franco: Sir?

Sir: Where am I going?

Franco: Oh, Seeth you that pass? In there.

Sir: Well! Thanks be unto thee! Take a denier out of petty cash.

Franco: Sir? You spent it all.

Sir: What of that? Well, then, polish my boots. I know’st how thou liketh that.

Franco: Uh, thanks?

Sir: Of course! I will see thee in the e’en after I have brought the great dragon to his knees. Have dinner ready. Ta!

(Sir rides off into the morning sun.)

Franco: If any dinner shall be prepared, it shall be his very loins. A denier! A denier! A Denier! A Denier! A Denier! Gee, isn’t the indefinite article fun? This entire curséd campaign is worth A denier! For in that very pass which I told him of, lies a very formidable surprise. ‘Tis call’d “El Lagarto River.” If he surviveth, the pretty boy, he shall have plentiful “leviathans.” Forsooth, ‘tis in the Woody forest that the dragon really lay. I alone shall defeat the mighty dragon and restoreth peace to the civic village of Londinium. Isn’t that worth more than A denier, Sir Crapsalot? Ha! What a name! Why not “Sir Trapp’dalot?” Ha! Hahahaha! I kill me! Heh.

(Franco readies the weapons and mounts his ass. After setting fire to Sir Crapsalot’s house, Franco sets off to Woody forest which contains some of the biggest tallest woodies in England.)

Switch to: Cathedral

David: Hear ye! I shall travel to The House of Sir Crapsalot to see if he hath departed on his journey.

Commoner: OK. Have fun.

Other Commoner: And thanks for waking me.

Female Commoner: Thanks for last night, David.

David: Say what?

Pan to: El Castillo (Castellum) (The Castle, Genius!)

King MacArthur: Hear Ye! I shall travel to The House of Sir Crapsalot to see if he hath departed on his journey.

Douglas: OK. Have fun.

José: And many thanks for arising me, O Kinglyship.

Maid: And thanks for last night, Your Highness.

King: Say what?

Cut to: Franco, playing the banjo while riding

Franco: ♪On the road again. Going places that I’ve never been…♪

Transition to: Sir “Trapp‘dalot” is about to live up to his name.

Sir: Here, Dragon, Dragon, Dragon. *Whistleth* I haveth a treat for thee.

(Sir holdeth a small piece of meat in his two fingers at an arm’s length. He’s slowly moving his arm while calling the Leviathan. When the piece of meat is over the river, and Sir is looking elsewhere for the dragon, an alligator (El lagarto) flies out of the water and chomps down on the piece of meat. Sir Crapsalot lives up to his name and falls off his horse directly afterward.)

 

Cathedral- interior

Two nuns are stuffing Pupa into a garbage bag while a third is scrubbing the floor.

The commoners are wondering what to do. They finally decide to reinforce the Cathedral and sew a white flag. One of the commoners decides to carve little stone kitties and another begins stealing candles from around the church of whose purpose shall remain a mystery and an enigma. ( The candles’ purpose, not the Church’s.)

Act II Scene II- outside of Sir’s former house.

David is walking down the path when he smells something burning. Thinking that it may be that the battle took place near Sir’s house, David ducks into the trees and slowly advances. When the house comes into sight- you see, the house is right on a curve- David runs forward to Sir’s charred house wondering if there’s a skeleton inside. A French knight is walking along the path, trying to see what trouble he can stir up in England.

David: Tell me it isn’t so! Please let Sir Crapsalot be okay! As please don’t tell me that his Spanish servant was a catalyst to speed up the burning!

Chevalier: Haha! You stupid Englishman! You cannot even keep your house intact! Haha! Ze stupid Englishman does not know to not play vis matches. What else don’t you know how to do? Need help vis your shoelaces? Ha!

David: Shut up!

Chevalier: Ohoho! Now ze patetic Englishman is going to be rude! Vell, I can be rude, too! I spit at your feet! I poke your nipple! I give you improperly chilled Chardonnay! Haha.

David: *growl.*

(After a bit more provocation, David is drawn to violence and goes to punch Frenchy in the face.)

Le Chevalier: Don’t hit me in ze face, Sil vous Plâit!

(So Dave hits him in ze abs-less stomach.)

Chevelier: Merçi. I tink I’ll find a nice hotel and hit le sac.

(David walks into the house after making sure that it’s not too hot inside so that he can sort some things out. When David disappears into the house, King MacArthur comes ‘round that thar bend.)

Emperor: Couldn’t that idiot have staged his battle somewhere else? I hope he hath insurance ‘cause I’ll pay not for that.

Le Knight: Who are you?

MacArthur: I am MacArthur, King of the Britons.

Knight: Vell, I haf never heard of you, Kingy, and I’ve been in England fer a while!

MacArthur: Long enough to burn down Sir Crapsalot’s house, eh?

Knight: Qui?

Mac: One of the knights on my Round Table, “MacArthur’s Knights of the Round Table.”

Knight: Round Table? Pizza?

Mac: No, that’s Italian.

Knighty knight: Vell of course! You British couldn’t come up vis anysing zat clever, could you?

MacArthur: We came up with the Trebuchet.

Knight: Le Trebuchet! Vy do you butcher Francais like zat?

Mac: Listen. I’ll demonstrate how the Trebuchet works. Imagine yourself being launched from here to Paris in seconds.

Francais: Fine. I’ll leave. Do you know of anyplace zat has good Foie gras?

King: Are you kidding? There’s no such thing! Fine, check that pond over there. We have some fat geese.

Day Knight: Sank yew.   Departs

McArthur: He’s lucky I didn’t throw him into the house or else he’d be a French fry. Ha!

David: King? King MacArthur?  David comes out of the house covered with ash.

King: *Gasp* So! You decided to burn his house, eh? And possibly him with it! Yet, O blissful irony, The culprit is caught flagrante delicto!

David: What? The flame is out! How could you catch me while the crime is blazing if the fire already put itself out?

King: Ah, yes. Fire. The only thing that puts out in this village. I bet Hef would find London to be a real challenge. Yet, O Blissful Irony!, The Traitor scum is caught after the crime delictoed!

David: I caus’d not this catastrophe! For I was just along the road!

King: I know you did it! Traitor! Turncoat! Infidel! Democrat!

Without more words they fell into combat and for a time there was advantage not at either hand. MacArthur, wizened with years of warfare, could fight against Liggett, but alas was also wizened with years of age. Henceforth, David did take the upper hand.

Dissolve to: Franco In the Forest De Woody.

Franco: Now then, with my bows strung and my arrows plentiful, with my shield strong and my sword true, with my sandwiches meaty and Diet Coke fizzy, I shall use my training to defeat this Leviathan. Now if I were a Dragon, whenceforth would I be?

A shadow loometh o’er Franco.

Fade out        Fade in- Castle

Jennifer: The suspence is killing me. How long must I sit here before I hear of the news? Whether good or bad, I can wait not!

José: You know, Jen. Freud said that impatience is triggered because of childhood denial of speedy gratification, if you know what I mean.

Jennifer: Shut up José! Go read a… libro or something. I just can’t wait here not knowing what’s going to happen, and not knowing if David is all right without me. He must be worried sick about me, as well.

Wipe to- yard of Sir’s house

Well, David is pretty much kicking MacArthur’s butt. Don’t let the military hear of this, though. Last thing I want is a cavity search by a soldier.

David: I doth not burn the house, old man!

King: I suspected thee *ow!* from the very beginning. *ow!* Working thine way up into almost royalty! *Yow!* The sadism!

David: No, but a masochist. Living under thy rule wouldst make any man into a masochist!  Knocks the King‘s crown off his head

King: You knock the royal crown off mine head? Now I kill thee!

Emperor MacArthur tries to kill David, but is unsuccessful as David, being forced to protect his life, kills MacArthur. Haha.

Emperor: Bah! It’s irrelevant! Now mine own son will become King and destroy the Leviathan, and shall conquer parts of Africa and India in the name of Britain for the heck of it! *Cough* Aah! Old Soldiers never die. *Coughs* They just… Fade away.       Nothing happens Fade awayStill Nothing happens     I said, FADE AWAY, YE DOG! Aah! I abdicate mine office. Dies.

David: Conquer parts of India? Where’s that?

Pan to: Cathedral- interior

A nun is turning Pupa on a spit while another bastes her with gravy. The commoners are mixing concrete to build an indoor fortress. One of the commoners is sewing the first British flag.

Commoner: What… is that mollycoddle?

Another Commoner: I call it… The Union Jack: Flag of unified Britain.

Commoner: Thou knowest not Jack.

Other Commoner: No, the man is correct. A unified Britain is what we need. Then the Germanics can go home.

Even yet another peasant: And leave the son of their language behind, right?

Person: Son of their language? What about the Romans’ language?

Other Commoner: You mean Latin? What about it?

Commoner: It’s the language of the freaking Church. Cur possunt non English loqvi velut omnes?

Another Commoner: Well, it’s because not everyone speaks English. That’s why I have sewn this flag. We are the Englishmen, We are the English speakers, ♪We are the champions, my friends. We’ll keep on fighting till the end…♫

Brick frame maker: Come hence, fellow plebeians, and lay forth bricks of concrete for our stronghold.

Soror Maria Denarrans: I’m on? *ahem* The mood here in St. Melichtodenwafflegrobemetallescheden’s Cathedral is positively electric as hundreds of commoners wonder if they will survive the next few hours. Young man, pray tell me, think thee that Sir Crapsalot shall deliver us from the terror of the mighty dragon?

A peasant: Methinks not. Sir Crapsalot is a bad fighter, relying on his thick armour to defeat foes. Forsooth, he’s not all that handsome either. I know not what my daughter sees in him.

Soror Maria Denarrans: (to camera) You see what a little faith can do?  The leviathan shall be sought and brought down by that handsome duke. Reporting, this is Sister Mary Denarrans. Back to you in the studio.

Act II Scene III- In the Woody Forest

Franco bent backwards and looked up to see the beast. So far backwards, in fact, that he fell onto his back. Franco immediately jumped onto his feet- all those years of Track are paying off- and drew his sword and shield from his asnico’s saddle. Franco swung left and right but couldn’t puncture the dragon’s hard, scaly skin. The great Dragon let forth a magnificent and awesome roar which shook the foundations of the Earth. Franco was knocked backwards several yards but surrendered not. Franco plunged his shield into the soft earth and, taking cover behind it, held steadfast his bow and arrow.

Franco: Arrow be true.

Franco aimed between the leviathan’s toes and let fly his arrow.

-Transition: The El Lagarto River

The arrow flew directly into the alligator’s mouth. The gator shrieked in pain and fell to the muddy ground. With all his might, Sir Trapp’dalot swung his sword left and right, back and forth.

Sir: Retreat, d*** horse! Retreat!

When there were no gators within two feet, so as to avoid teeth marks on his horse’s hindquarters, Sir turned around swiftly and sailed into the grassy plain that led to the path. Sir saw something in his way and, since he was going so fast, choseth he to swipe it with blade. What he swip’d was a sign that said in English and German “Beware, for here lies El Lagarto meadow.” Sir stopped, read the sign, and said,

Sir: So that’s why Henrietta always told me to read signs. Have I been betrayéd? Nay, Young Franco would do me no wrong. Truly, I am good to him: he is allowed to sleep in my hut, on my pile of hay; he hath Sundays off, and against the wishes of the Church! I give him Windex to use on my glasses (mirrors); I even have my latrine next to the window so that the emptying of the chamber pot is not made too unbearable. In fact, he holdeth his position too well! I shall move mine latrine next to his pile of hay, the ingrate!  Aargh! I must come back with that dragon! But where is’t?

A roar is heard in yon’ distance.

Sir: That way, Sir Bacon! (he was addressing his horse) Onto battle! Charge!

In the Castle

José: I mustn’t let Jen go alone. Freud said that being alone can trigger a need for gratification by means of some spiky object.

Person: How art thou so knowledgeable about hither Freud?

José: Psychology was mine favourite subject. One is entreated to learn about masochistic “intimate” things. *wink* *wink*

Along a pathos

Jennifer: I shall locate my lover David and heare from him hence. If I know David, his goal thither was to be learnéd on the condition of Sir Crapsalot’s house.

Jennifer goes down the pathe to Sir’s house. Or what used to be.

 

Along a path, (which was made with a path-o-gen, in stores near you)

David: I must find Franco. If I find him, I’ll find Sir Crapsalot. If I findeth him, I shall know that the leviathan is being slay’d.  First I must seek out the Dragon.

David goeth down el patho during his search, when he approacheth a cave which is lit inside. Curious, David entereth. When he doth, he findeth the Sage Emilio Fernandez, Principal of Liberty High School, a.k.a. The masochist’s haven.

Fernandez: David. Approach. In thy journey thou wilt find great peril. What thou must remember is to beware Germans bearing gifts. Mares eat oats and does eat oats and little lambs eat ivy. The PSP rocks but has too few games that are any good. Happiness is a warm gun. Penny Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, There beneath the blue suburban skies. Sup? Izzle. Yo. Whatev’. A’it.

David: What mean’st you by these neesings, O Magister?

Fernandez: Actually, nothing. They just tell us sages to say such things. My real advice to thee is to use the button on the awesome lizard.

David: What? What button? Who’s a lizard?

Fernandez: Ms. Martin, Do I have any calls?

Ms. Martin: No, Emilio. I just checked.

David: Whoa! How dost you maketh a portal to Liberty?

Fernandez: Goodbye.

Liberty disappears and the cave goeth dark.

David: Use the button on the lizard.

Exit David

Along a path

Sir Crapsalot is riding along trying to reach the leviathan in a timely manner. You see, he used to work for the USPS and has ever since been desperately trying to repair his image.

Sir: I must reach the dragon and kill him! Then I shall receive the riches I so richly deserve! And I shall get a better lackey. Franco does have some lip on him.

Sir rides along, not realizing that he is once again heading to El Lagarto River.

In the Forest.

Franco is retreating. Every attack he has made hath no effect on the leviathan. Not even mace or axe. The dragon is as strong as a tank- er- Castle- and once again lets out a mighty roar. He also spews great volumes of smoke and spark from his mighty maw.

Down along a path.

Jennifer is running along the path, worried about David. She stops when she sees a short, metallic cylindrical cylinder on the side of the road with a smaller red circle on top of it. The circle is domed and says “off” on it. Jennifer picketh it up and proceedeth running.

In the Cathedral

Commoner: John screwed up big time.

Other Commoner: What mean’st thee?

Commoner: England is completely Protestant, and yet he has us standing in a Catholic Cathedral. The closest Catholic is in Avignon! Anybody in England found to be a Catholic is tried and ordered to death, exactly like Jesus told us to.

Other Commoner: What?

Commoner: I was being satirical.

Other Commoner: Oh.

New Commoner: Is there any doubt as to why he put us in a Cathedral?

Commoner: Who are you?

New Commoner: Oh! how rude of me. My name is New Commoner, son of Olde Commoner.

Person: What was the name of Olde Commoner’s dad?

New Commoner: Novus Plebs. You see, he spoke Latin. As I was saying, It’s obvious why we’re all in a Catholic Church.

Person: Pray, why?

New Commoner: Well, you pray because-

Person: No! I- I meant, please tell us.

New Commoner: Oh! Well, are Protestant churches made of stone and structurally strong?

Other Commoner: No.

Another Commoner: Of Course not! Don’t be ridiculous!

New Commoner: Do Protestant Churches have Gothic architecture, and so have a lot of surplus material?

Other Commoner: No.

Another Commoner: Of Course not! Don’t be ridiculous!

New Commoner: Are Protestant Churches really tall with intimidating Gargoyles and lookout points?

Other Commoner: No.

Another Commoner: Of Course not! Don’t be ridiculous!

New Commoner: Okay, that’s getting annoying.

Another Commoner: Sorry.

New Commoner: Do Protestant churches have nuns and Catholic girls?

Other Commoner: N- What kind of question is that?!

New Commoner: Look at that blonde over there.

Another Commoner: I know, it’s tragic. We’ve been battling her psoriasis for ages.

New Commoner: No! Not that Hag! Her!

All: *peaceful sigh*

Person: Vladmir Klapperschlange-beissen. Voted Miss Greenwich of 1561, Miss London County of 1562, and this year she’s going for Miss England of whatever year this is.

Other Commoner: 1563?

Person: Oh, No thank you. I’m not that hungry.

Other Commoner: (aside) Stupid surrealists.

New Commoner: You see? That’s typical of Catholic girls.

Commoner: To become Miss England of whatever year this is 1563?

New Commoner: No! Well, of her, at least. No, what I mean is-

He outlines her voluptuous curves in the air with his hands.

Other Commoner: An Hourglass!

Person: An upside-down guitar!

Commoner: How many syllables?

Another Commoner: Is it a playe? A book? A song? A dirge? A poem!

Other Commoner: You.. Uh… you punched Another Commoner in the face. You’re going to kill the blonde with Another Commoner’s guitar in a Cathedral! Yes, I got it! 18 seconds. Beat that, Person!

Person: No, look; he’s not finished yet. Now, after you’ve stomped on Another Commoner’s face, you’re whacking Commoner upside the head with a cross. That’s actually kind of sacrilegious. Oh! I’ve got it! It’s the Maxim “Practice Random Acts of Violence!”

New Commoner: Yes, you got it.

Person: I love charades.

Okay, moving on…

 

Act III Scene I- Showdown

Several alligators waiteth near a bend of the river for Sir Trapp’dalot. When they see him coming, they hideth away. Sir approaches the river and doesn’t know whether to jump across or to follow the river until he findeth a bridge. Ulitmately, he decideth by impulce to turn around after seeing a pair of jaws snap directly in front of his face. Whilst fleeing, Sir hears a roar in the distance. He then headeth in thither direction, the brave soul.

There is a path just outside the forest. Jennifer is walking along that path when Franco exits the forest, screaming. He almost runs into Jennifer. David comes running and the three of them run about, bumping into each other like the Three Stooges- With Curly, mind you. The Dragon towers even over the woodies and sendeth great sparks to leap into the air. Sir Crapsalot comes a ridin’ down the path and, when he sees the dragon attempting to come onto the path, shouts

Sir: Stop, ho!

His horse does, which sends him and his saddle pack flying. Why he didn’t tie it down, I don’t know. The idiot. Sir Crapsalot lands on the ground a few feet away from the three, who are panicking.

David: Principal Fernandez said to push the button!

Franco: What button?!

David: Must be on the leviathan!

David runs toward the dragon who has finished snapping through the last row of trees and is making its way out into the clearing.

Jennifer: David! Come ye back!

(Jennifer slams her fist on the giant button on the metallic circular thing she picked up. The button is just big enough for her whole fist to slam on it. The dragon stops in mid-step and creaks loudly. It slowly leans forward. Pan down to Sir Trapp’dalot, who is swinging his limbs in the air like a crab on its back. Beacause of Sir’s heavy armour, he is unable to roll over. The shadow o’er him grows in size as the dragon gains momentum while falling forward. Sir swiftly abandons his armour at David’s direction and assistance, and runs away just as the dragon lands on Sir’s armour, saddle pack, and *gasp* his meatball sub.)

Franco: You slayed the leviathan with the touch of a big red thing that says “off!” How did’st you accomplish this?

Jennifer: With David’s bravery and valour.

David: Oh, thank you, Jen.

They embrace.

Sir: How sweet! But unfortunately I must put an end (picks up Franco’s sword) to this! This whole campaign! That dragon was mine!

David: But no longer. We defeated it.

Sir: No, I defeated it! And the city shall lament with mourn the loss of our Baron and Baroness. I could protect them not from the mighty teeth of the dragon. O Blissful Melancholy!

Sir moves in to slaughter them, but a certain alligator has other plans. He has been following Sir and decides to make off with his leg. Franco grabs his sword after Sir drops it, and fights off the alligator. Franco takes a leather thong from his saddle gear and binds Sir’s wrists. José comes riding along on a horse from the castle’s stable to see what’s going on.

José: So, I can see that there are no problems here. You know, Freud said that the urge to kill a mighty leviathan is triggered by a want to slay one’s own maidenhead. And, Sir Crapsalot? You are bound? Kinky.

Franco, Jen, and David: Shut up, José!

A man in a suit comes out from- what’s this- inside the leviathan? He looks livid, and his glasses are askew.

Man: What did you do to my creation?!

Franco: Your creation?

Man: It took me years to construct this beauty! Using the slash-and-burn method, I could have deforested this entire area, and made a 100K on the corn crops I was going to plant! And it’s all destroyed! Wahaaaaa!

David: So, thou mean’st not to kill any of us?

Man: Kill you? I didn’t even see you! I was in the lounge room, letting autopilot take over!

David: (To Jennifer) What language doth this man speak?

Man: I’m going to sue all of you!

Jen: Come henceforth to London, first, and celebrate our victory o’er this day. Not only defeated we the dragon, but also expos’d Sir Crapsalot’s scheme for fame and glory, and remodel’d his house.

Franco mounts Sir Crapsalot’s horse, and the man sits behind him. David mounts the second horse which José brought, and Jen sits sidesaddle behind him.

Sir: What hither shall I ride?!

Jen: Ride yond ass. Like rider, like steed. José, tie his wrists to the reign, and guard him with bow and arrow whilst ye march to Londinium.

José: I have to walk beside him?

Jen: Okay, you can ride behind him.

José: (as he‘s tying Sir Crapsalot to the asnico) When I get out of this story, I’m having a word or two with John.

Time Lapse

            They’re riding along the way to London.

David: Say it again.

Man: Richter Scale.

David: Aha! Again!

Man: Richter Scale.

David: Ahaha! He kills me!

Franco: Not if I kill you first. Hey Jen, wilt thou participate in Cross Country this fall?

Jen: Of course. And I’m bringing David with me.

David: Yep.

Franco: Yep.

Man: Mmhm.

Jen: Yeah.

Sir: My brain hurts.

José: Your what?

Man (to himself): Maybe the problem with my creation was that it wasn’t fast enough. Next time, instead of a T-Rex, I’ll go with a blue hedgehog. No, A black hedgehog! Ooo, that’s gangsta. He’ll be named “Sonic‘s doppelganger.” Man, what is that black hedgehog’s name?

Act III Scene II- Celebration. Festive Activities– Festivities!

In the Great Hall, all of London is there.

At the big table, now King Douglas MacArthur sitteth centre, with on his right, David, then Jennifer, then Principal Fernandez. On his left sitteth Franco, then José surprisingly, then one of the alligators. On the floor in front lie a humiliated Sir Trapp’dalot in the stocks. The entire front is cover’d in tomato paste, as are Sir’s head and hands. On each of the tables lie feast food, as well as parts of Pupa.

Doug: (tapping glass) Hear ye! People of England! Today is truly a golden day in London. The terrible dragon has been brought down (The builder of the “dragon” says “Hmph!”) and peace has been restored. Now, before you domineer into the e’en, friends, I must say a few words. I shall forever have deepest gratitude to Baroness Fetterman, for her recourcefulness, and to Baron Liggett, for his mighty bravery. To Sir Franco Oberes, I give thanks for his courage and honour. To José, I give 20 pesos for his… uh… perversion. To Principal Emilio Fernandez, I am thankful for his wisdom and sage advice to our young heroes. To young amphibious creature known as El Lagarto, I give a nice juicy limb of formerly “sir” Crapsalot. And finally, to thee, O gentle countrymen of Londinium, I give a feast for hospitality and stealing my cement.

Commoner: He wasn’t suppos’d to know about tha’.

Doug: Oh, and my Fahder’s defunctive will be held tomorrow. His will indicated me as his sole beneficiary. I am to receive the rank of Lieutenant General, and be put in charge of the Korean Police Action. Aww. He shouldn’t have. Feast away! José, refill my pipe. Oh, Trapp’dalot? Tomorrow you shall have a meeting with the Beadle of Yorkshire.

I love the Beadles.

Towards the end of the feast

Commoner: Mar wine!

Other Commoner: No mar wine! Jus’ Ale!

All: …Yay!

Jen: How’s my sweetie?

José: Stuff’d.

Jen and Dave: Shut up!

Dave: Actually, I’m stuffèd as well. Latin-speakers really fill your stomach.

Jen: Let’s go home.

David: Okay, but you’ll have to roll me.

Jen: Let’s go, big boy.

Pupa: (Echoing) Est tenebricosum in hoc.

Outside, after the feast, mid-nightish

Franco is leading his Cross Country buddies to his new Sir House, paid for by the Crown.

Franco: Come on, yous guys. I have something to show thee.

Jen: Okay.

Franco leads them to something in his new house’s bathroom. Franco pulls off a tarp to bewray a flushable toilet.

José: What’s that? It leereth as a latrine, but ‘tis shiny porcelain.

Franco: The first flushable latrine. I call it, “Sir Crapper.”

(All laugh)

Act III Scene III- The Solemn Day

Fade Out, Fade In.

‘Tis, to-morrow, and a very bleak day. Men, women, and chillins alike gather in one of the voluminous castle gardens dressed in black. So are the people.

Priest: The Lord is my shepherd.

Doug: Waaa!

Priest: I shall not

Doug: Boo-hoo!

Priest: Want. He maketh me to lie

Doug: Aaaaahaaaaa! *Sniff*

Priest: In green

Doug: *Bawl*

Priest: PASTURES!

Doug: How could you do this to me?! How could ye die, thou bastard?! Speak, ye! Aaahaaaa!

Preist: Requiescat in pacē. Amen

Crowd: Amen.

Doug: WAAAAAAAAHAAAAAAAAA!

Commoner: O wilt thou kindly shut up? I have a terrible hangover.

Commoners: Agreed.

They chase Douglas off into the castle so that Arthur can be buried uninterrupted.

Doug MacArthur: I will return.

Mr. Lamb: John? John?

Dissolve to- Mr. Lamb’s class, 3rd period.

Mr. Lamb: John. It’s your line

John: Hmm? Oh, right. Cry “Havoc!” and let slip the dogs of war.

Mr. Lamb: You’re Brutus. Will someone show him where we are?

Zack points it out.

John: Thanks, Zack. T’was not that I loved Cæsar less, but that I loved Rome more.

Mr. Lamb: Thank you. See me after class.

Time lapse

Mr. Lamb: You need to pay more attention in class, John.

John: What?

Mr. Lamb: Pay a little more attention in class!

John: I was! They were burying Cæsar and had to chase MacArthur into the castle!

Mr. Lamb: What play were you reading?

Enter José

José: I have a bone to pick with you, John. I had to walk next to Sir Trapp’dalot? All the way to England? And then I had to feed the ass?

John: I thought you liked asses, Jo.

José: No, John. Okay? No.

Enter Franco

Franco: I’m Sir Crapsalot’s lackey?

John: No, you don’t understand, Franco!

Enter Pupa

John: Oh, just let today be over!

Enter Mechanical T-Rex

And Here Endeth the playe

Note: Exempting most of the characters, everything in this play is false. I really do pay a little attention in Mr. Lamb’s class. Really. I do.

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