The end-of-day bell had rung half an hour ago, but the halls of Glenfield Middle School were still surprisingly full. Over two dozen students were milling around outside a door with a sign that read "PLAY TRYOUTS HERE."
"What do you mean, you aren't trying out?" Jodie Landon asked Mack Mackenzie in surprise. "You played Hamlet in the variety show last year!"
"And that's exactly why I'm not trying out," Mack replied firmly. "Once was enough."
"Then why are you here?" she asked him.
"To offer you moral support, of course," he said, squeezing her hand and smiling at his more-than-just-a-friend-who-happens-be-a-girl.
"Thanks." She smiled back. "You know, you could work backstage. Wrangling props, building sets, painting scenery-"
"Hey, the painting job is spoken for!" Jane Lane was leaning against the wall, twirling a paintbrush idly between her fingers.
"You don't know that," Sandi Griffin snapped. "We haven't even had tryouts yet!"
"Well, I'm sure there will plenty of other work to do," Jodie amended, still speaking to Mack.
"I'll think about it," Mack said.
"I can't wait!" Brittany Taylor squeaked excitedly, bouncing in place. "I've never been in a play before but I bet I'll be great in it!"
"I bet you will, too," Kevin Thompson said, gazing at her in admiration. Brittany didn't notice, and he sighed.
"Are you sure about this?" Stacy Rowe was asking Sandi. "I mean, what if I'm no good?"
"You'll be great," Sandi reassured her. "I mean, not as good as me, of course-"
"Of cooourse," Tiffany Blum-Deckler echoed, nodding vacantly.
"What kind of play do you think it'll be?" asked Charles "Upchuck" Ruttheimer. "They never even told us the title. I'd love to be in a science fiction story."
"Maybe it'll be a romance!" Stacy breathed.
"I hope it's a comedy," Kevin said, grinning.
"Or an action movie!" Brittany added. "Oooh, even better! A horror movie! I'd be great in one of those." She put her hands to her face and let out a shriek that might have been heard in the next county.
The door slammed open and a teacher skidded into the hallway. "Who's being murdered?" Seeing no dead or mortally injured students in the hallway, he took a deep breath. "I suppose you're all here to try out for the play?"
Everyone nodded.
He smiled. "Excellent! Please step into the auditorium."
"Mr. Hanson, that's the gym," Jodie pointed out. "We don't have an auditorium."
"For our purposes, the gym is the auditorium," he replied, waving them all in. "This end will be our 'stage,' and we'll have curtains set up in front of it and seats for the audience over here."
"So what's the play?" Upchuck asked eagerly.
"Let's do the quarterback sneak!" Kevin yelled. "I've always wanted to try that one."
Mack nudged him. "Stage play. Not football play." To Mr. Hanson he said, "No Shakespeare this time. Please."
Mr. Hanson sighed. "The good news is that we're not doing Shakespeare."
"And the bad news?" Jodie asked.
The teacher waved a stack of papers. "We can't afford the royalties to do any well-known plays because, as usual, all the school district's finances have been drained by the high school. Instead, the Lawndale High principal has offered us an original play written by the Language Arts teacher."
"Oh, that was nice of her!" Stacy said.
"You haven't read it yet," Mr. Hanson muttered. He began handing out copies of the play. "Everyone take a quick read through it and we'll start auditions when everyone is ready."
"Reeeead?" Tiffany asked, nose wrinkled.
Sandi sighed. "I'll help you."
Soon, all of the kids were flipping through the scripts (aside from Tiffany, who was filing her nails while Sandi and Stacy took turns reading it to her). The complaints began almost immediately.
"There aren't any all-powerful wizards anywhere in this!" Upchuck groaned. "It's boring!"
"It really could use a love interest," Stacy pointed out.
"And some fart jokes," Kevin added. "No, wait! Poop jokes! No, wait again! Fart and poop jokes!"
"It's just awful," Jodie said, slapping the script with the back of her hand. "It could not be any worse!"
"It could be worse," Jane contradicted. "He could have written us a musical."
Everyone in the room shuddered at the thought.
"I take it everyone is ready to try out?" Mr. Hanson said.
"Ready as we'll ever be," Jodie said with one last grimace at the script.
"Okay, then let's start with...you," Mr. Hanson said, pointing at Jane.
Jane shook her head. "Nuh uh. I'm here to paint. Point me at the scenery and get out of my way."
Mr. Hanson nodded. "All right. Then how about you?" This time he pointed at Upchuck.
"With pleasure!" Upchuck leaped forward to stand under the basketball hoop and struck a bold pose: legs apart, arms akimbo, and chest thrust forward. He held the script open and began to read.
"I feel so angry at you!" he thundered, raising his fist and bellowing with a rage that shook the walls of the gymnasium/auditorium. His face was turning bright red with the effort of over-acting. "Your actions have left me no choice," he continued, building upon his already over-the-top performance with extra dramatic flourishes, "but to...to..." He paused and looked closer at his script before saying in a quiet voice, "to take a massive self-inventory of my emotional well-being and talk through our issues during a safe and judgment-free counseling session?" Upchuck looked up. "This is crap."
"Yes," Mr. Hanson replied brightly. "But it's free crap. Next, please!"
Brittany trotted over to take his place under the hoop. "My turn!" She looked at her script. "This relationship is completely dys-uh, dysfun-"
"Dysfunctional," Mr. Hanson prompted.
"Dysfunctional," Brittany continued, "and I know that on a submarine level-"
"Subconscious," Mr. Hanson corrected gently.
"Uh, yeah, that level I should recognize the inter...oh, I give up!"
"Interconnectedness," Mr. Hanson sighed.
Brittany waved her script in the air. "Is this like one of those foreign movies with subtitles?"
"It probably should be," he replied with a groan. "Who's next?"
Tiffany stepped up to the basketball hoop and opened her script at random. "Whaaaaaaat kiiiiiiiiind ooooooooof-"
"Excuse me," Mr. Hanson interrupted, "but would you be interested in taking on a behind-the-scenes role?"
"Liiike a baaaackground charaaacter?" she asked.
"Only if it's a non-speaking role," Jane said.
Mr. Hanson shot her a warning look, then smiled. "Actually, I think Jane could use a hand with the scenery."
Jane's grin disappeared immediately. "Now, just wait a-!"
"As director, my decisions are final." Mr. Hanson crossed his arms. "Tiffany, you're part of the stage crew."
"Ohhh." Tiffany looked at her script. "Do I stiiill have to reeeead?"
"Not a bit," Mr. Hanson assured her.
Tiffany smiled. "Greeeeeat."
The auditions continued, one by one, until each student had had a chance to try out...except one.
"Mack?" Mr. Hanson asked. "After your performance last year at the variety show, I think I can dispense with the audition. Welcome to the show!"
Mack shook his head. "After my performance last year at the variety show, I think I can dispense with ever acting again for as long as I live."
"You can't let one bad experience sour you on performing!" Mr. Hanson objected.
"Watch me." Mack looked away. Unfortunately, his gaze fell on Jodie, who was looking at him with the sad eyes that he never could resist. He sighed. "But I'll still help out, okay?" He looked around and saw Tiffany walk directly into a wall. "Uh, maybe you could use another set of hands on stage crew."
Tiffany turned around. "Haaands on the staaaage? Ewwwwwww."
Once everyone had been assigned a part (even Kevin, who only got in because they needed one more actor for a male role), Mr. Hanson dismissed the group. "We start rehearsals after school on Monday!" he announced. "Start learning your lines over the weekend!"
"Aw, man!" Kevin cried as he left the gym. "No one told me we'd have to learn stuff!"
"I'll help you," Mack said, against his better judgment. "Maybe Mr. Hanson will let you use cue cards or something."
"Why can't we just do one of those shows without lines?" Kevin complained. "You know, like those really old black-and-white movies!"
"You want us to put on a silent film as the school play?" Jodie asked dubiously. "I don't even know where to start."
"Most stories start 'Once upon a time,'" Brittany offered helpfully.
"This one is more of a 'Dark and stormy night' kind of vibe," Jodie muttered.
Mack smirked at her. "Having second thoughts about your co-stars?"
"No," she said without much confidence, then glanced over at Tiffany. "How about you?"
Tiffany was trailing behind Jane. "When weeee paint the sceeenery-"
Jane turned around and stopped to glare at her. "We will not be painting anything. I will do the painting, and you will follow directions and stay out of my way!"
"Don't worry; she's good at that," Sandi said, steering Tiffany around her.
Upchuck walked past, speaking to no one in particular. "I'm starting to think there aren't going to be any space fights in this play."
o O o
Rehearsals began the following week, and while most of the actors had begun to memorize their lines, the script itself was as unintelligible as ever. The tweens kept stumbling over phrases like "interpersonal relationship" and "realizing your actuality."
"What does 'realizing your actuality' mean?" Jodie asked. Mr. Hanson just shrugged.
Sandi, meanwhile, was more concerned with her costume than with her script. "I refuse to wear this!" she screeched as she held up a shapeless yellow dress. "First of all, this is clearly a blend. Secondly, I will look pale and washed-out in this shade of yellow. Thirdly-and most importantly-I will not have fashion choices forced upon me like some kind of...of...prisoner!"
"Would you prefer black-and-white stripes?" Jane asked, brushing past her with half a dozen paint cans in her arms.
"I would prefer to make my own wardrobe choices!"
"Our budget is only a hair above nonexistent," Mr. Hanson pointed out. "We either accept what the home ec class can make for us or we go onstage naked."
Upchuck's eyes lit up. "Really?" he asked hopefully.
"Not in this lifetime," Sandi snapped. She frowned at the lump of fabric in her hands. "I'll see if I can improve this...somehow."
"Mr. Hanson?" Brittany asked, peering at her script. "I think that after my character says this part about fulfilling her aspirations and seeking wholeness, I should do a spinning roundhouse kick and knock somebody through a wall."
"You aren't knocking anybody through any of my masterpieces!" Jane shouted over from her work.
Mr. Hanson ignored the outburst and gently told Brittany, "It's an interesting idea, but I don't think that really fits the dialogue."
"Sure it does!" she insisted. "I'll kick their aspirations and rip them a new wholeness!"
"It would make the play much more interesting," Upchuck pointed out grumpily. "Especially since I haven't found even one orc battle in this thing."
"There isn't going to be any violence in this show!" Mr. Hanson said, struggling to keep calm.
"I can't make any promises," Jane said, shoving Tiffany away from her paintbrushes. "Especially if Clod Monet here doesn't stop trying to interfere with my creative process."
"What creative process?" Mack asked as he struggled to keep a sheet of plywood from falling over. "You're supposed to paint a bunch of trees."
"'A bunch of trees,'" Jane grumbled. "I'll have you know that I'm going to create a lush forest of sycamore maples in emerald green with subtle shadings of jade and olive."
"Ewwww." Tiffany wrinkled her nose.
Jane sighed, already accustomed to Tiffany's habits. "I'm not going to use actual olives; I'm talking about-"
"No." Tiffany pointed at Jane's paint cans. "Jade and olive will clash. I recommend a slight bluish shade, like teal." Her voice was crisp and authoritative, and a few kids even looked around to see if someone new was speaking.
Blinking, Jane looked at Tiffany and then at the paint. "I hate to admit it," she said, "but you might actually have a point."
"That's Tiffany," Sandi said with a proud smile. "She may have her flaws, but her sense of color is absolutely impeccable."
Jane looked at Tiffany with awe and even a faint respect...until Tiffany picked up one of the paint cans and tried to check her make-up in the shiny lid.
"Can we just practice our lines, please?" Mr. Hanson begged. "Charles, Stacy, and Kevin? You're up. Start from the opening scene."
The three kids stepped forward and took their places. Stacy and Upchuck looked at Kevin, who had the first line. He looked back at them, smiling vacantly.
"Kevin?" Mr. Hanson prompted.
"Yeah, Mr. H?"
"Say your lines, please."
"Sure!" Kevin hesitated. "Uh, what lines are those, again?"
"The lines you're supposed to say in the script," Upchuck said, not-so-patiently.
"Oh!" Kevin rubbed the back of his head. "I guess I haven't learned all of them yet."
"What do you mean, 'all of them'?" Stacy asked. "You only have, like, five lines in the whole play!"
"And now we see why," Jane said, flourishing an emerald-tipped paintbrush.
Mr. Hanson sighed. "I'm not expecting anyone to know their entire part yet-"
"I do!" Jodie interjected.
He ignored her. "-but you're all going to need to have your lines memorized by opening night. We've only got a few weeks."
"Don't worry," Kevin reassured him in a cheerful voice that reassured no one. "If I forget something, I'll just do that thing real actors do."
"Heroin?" Jane suggested.
"No, the other thing. Adverb!"
"I would strongly recommend against any ad libbing in this show," Mr. Hanson warned the cast. "If for no other reason than because I'm sure the playwright worked very hard on this script."
"Did he?" Jane asked. "Because you wouldn't know from reading it."
Mr. Hanson handed Kevin a copy of the script to read from. "Your first line is 'I really appreciate the feedback you've given me during my spiritual exploration.'"
Kevin parroted back the line, mostly accurately, and the rehearsal finally got started.
"...in order to achieve a truly meaningful relationship," Stacy said, then sighed dramatically and clasped her hands under her chin.
"What are you doing?" Kevin asked.
Stacy looked annoyed. "My character is talking about relationships!" she pointed out. "You know, like, romance and marriage and things like that!"
"We've been over this," Mr. Hanson said gently. "This isn't a love story."
"It could be," Stacy pouted.
"Can we just continue?" Mr. Hanson asked.
Upchuck stepped forward. "As your mentor," he bellowed, sticking his chest out heroically and striking several dramatic poses in quick succession. "I recommend daily affirmations," here he paused to sweep his arm out, almost smacking Stacy in the nose, "to increase your positive energy," now he leaped into the air as though trying to fly, "and decrease your negative energy!" He punctuated the last word by diving into a sudden crouch and slamming his fist against the floor.
"That was, er, lively," Mr. Hanson said diplomatically.
Jodie chuckled nervously. "We're going to pull this all together by opening night, right?" She looked around, getting no response. "Right?"
o O o
Things had improved only slightly by the following week. Most of the actors had made good progress in memorizing their parts...except for Kevin, who somehow seemed to be forgetting more lines than he'd learned. "I really appreciate the...uh...appreciate the..."
"Feedback," Mr. Hanson prompted.
"Feedback you...awwww, man!"
"You've given me," Mr. Hanson supplied.
"You've given me, uh, during..." Kevin shrugged and used his mouth to make a loud fart noise. He then cracked up laughing, and was the only one to do so. "Come on, my dad thinks that's hilarious!"
"Your dad thinks people getting hit in the face with pies is hilarious," Mack muttered.
Kevin's eyes lit up, but before he could speak Mr. Hanson firmly said, "No pies."
Sandi added, "I will murder anyone who ruins my flawless make-up with pastries!"
"Thanks," Mr. Hanson told her, grateful for the rare show of support from her.
"You're welcome. Now, about these accessories..."
"Back to the opening scene!" Mr. Hanson yelled, turning back to Kevin, Stacy, and Upchuck.
Stacy crossed her arms. "I refuse to say another line until you agree to give my character a love interest!"
Mr. Hanson let out a low groan but gestured toward her co-stars. "Fine. Take your pick."
Stacy looked at Kevin. Then she looked at Upchuck. Then she went into a full-body shudder. "Suggestion withdrawn," she whispered, unable or unwilling to hide her scandalized expression.
Turning back to Upchuck, Mr. Hanson said, "Okay, now-why in God's name are you wearing that?!"
Upchuck pulled off the space helmet. "There's nothing in the script that says I can't be an astronaut!"
"Just put it away and practice your lines," Mr. Hanson instructed him through gritted teeth.
Upchuck scowled but put the helmet aside. He brightened up as he began reading his lines, though, leaping from side to side and flourishing his hands about so wildly that Kevin and Stacy kept needing to duck to avoid getting hit. His voice boomed loudly, if a bit squeakily, until it was clear he was trying to be heard not only by the back row, but by the gas station two blocks down the street.
"Good job remembering your part, Charles," Mr. Hanson told him. "But if next time you could perhaps...tone it down a little?"
Upchuck looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean? I was toning it down!"
"I'd hate to see what it's like when he's laying it on thick!" Everyone's eyes turned toward Jane, but she was frantically trying to finish painting what looked like a sea of fire and destruction. The remark had come from Jodie, who looked both embarrassed and pleased with herself.
"Where the hell is my long-handled round brush?" Jane screamed, startling everyone. "It was right here just a moment ago!"
Tiffany looked up from her compact. "Whaaat does it looook like?"
"It has a long handle and a round brush," Jane snapped, then did a double take. "Are you using my paintbrush to apply eyeshadow?!"
Tiffany looked at the brush. "Uhhhh...maaaaybe?"
Mack plucked the brush out of her hand and handed it to Jane. "Do you think maybe you're overworking yourself a bit?" he asked her gently. "You seem a tiny bit stressed."
"You'd be stressed, too, if you needed to complete fifteen more masterpieces in the space of two weeks while fending off the incompetent bungling of a useless stage crew!" She blinked at Mack. "Present company excluded."
"Of course." Mack looked at the stacks of plywood that surrounded Jane. "I really don't think we're going to need this much scenery."
Jane pointed her paintbrush at him threateningly. "Don't tell me how to do my art!" she hissed. "I don't tell you how to...do whatever the hell it is you do!"
"Okay, okay," Mack said reassuringly. "But...what is this?" He pointed at her current project.
"It's a visual representation of the deepest pit of hell."
"The entire play takes place in a suburban neighborhood."
"Yeah." Jane squinted at her brushwork. "Like I said. But I can't get the brimstone to glow properly!" She perked up and looked at Mr. Hanson. "Could I get a light projector? It would really make the scenery pop, and I have a great idea for a laser light show in the final scene."
Mr. Hanson guffawed. "Seriously? With our budget? I might be able to get you a flashlight."
Jane went back to her work, grumbling about the stifling limitations being imposed on her artistic vision.
Mack turned away, grateful for another averted confrontation. He came face to face with Tiffany, who was trying to prop sheets of plywood in front of the stage. "What are you doing?" he asked. "You're going to block the audience's view of the play!"
"Who says that's a bad thing?" Jane asked without looking up.
"I'm puuuutting up the foooourth waaaall," Tiffany explained painstakingly.
"That's not how fourth walls work, Tiffany," Mack said through gritted teeth. "Put the plywood back."
As Tiffany frowned in each direction and began counting on her fingers, Mack grabbed the plywood and began dragging it backstage. "Why did I think stage crew would be easier?"
"Easier than what?" Brittany asked, passing by on her way to rehearse the next scene.
"Easier than trying to do advanced calculus in my head while being attacked by rabid squirrels," he said. "Turns out I was wrong."
"Oh." Brittany blinked a few times, then grinned at him. "Well, good luck with that rabbit squirrel project!" She joined Jodie and Sandi onstage.
"I realize now that I have been in denial over my tendency to project," Jodie said, nose wrinkled in distaste at the utter drivel she was being forced to recite, "but after some real soul-searching and meditation I think I've achieved closure and can strive toward true self-empowerment."
"Hiiiii-YAH!" Brittany shrieked, leaping at Jodie and knocking her to the ground.
"Brittany, what the hell?" Jodie demanded, shoving her away and staggering back to her feet.
"I thought this would be a good place to stage a fight!" Brittany explained.
"Brittany, dear, when you stage a fight it's a good idea to let your co-stars in on the idea first," Sandi pointed out.
"Huh. Yeah, I guess I could try that next time."
"Next time?" Jodie said nervously. She looked at Mr. Hanson in fear. "Please tell me she's not going to start attacking people during the actual show."
"I'm not sure I can make that promise," he admitted.
Jodie covered her face with both hands. "This is going to be a disaster."
"Don't worry about it," Mr. Hanson said reassuringly.
She looked up. "You mean you think it'll turn out okay?"
He shook his head. "No, but you aren't the one who'll get blamed for it." He sighed. "Start again, from the beginning of the scene. And no ambushes this time."
o O o
Things didn't get any better over the course of the next few weeks.
o O o
"Look, either you let me bring my own accessories or I'm quitting this fashion catastrophe masquerading as drama!"
o O o
"I really abbreviate the fullback you've given me during my spiral explanation! Hey, did you hear the joke about the tiny piano player?"
o O o
"I'm just saying, maybe the female lead's love interest lives in Canada!"
o O o
"Jane, you really don't have to draw every individual blade of grass."
"If you want subpar work, go ask the kindergarteners to finger paint the set for you!"
o O o
"But Mr. Hanson, I can't just take the Starfleet insignia off! I spent all last night sewing it onto my costume!"
"Your character is not a member of Starfleet, Charles."
"It's artistic license! Hey, do you want to hear me read my lines in Klingon?"
o O o
"...going to be a complete disaster and my parents are going to see it and I just know they're going to blame me and I'll be grounded for at least five billion years..."
o O o
"For the last time, Jane, I can't build you a fully-functional staircase. I can barely keep Tiffany functional!"
"Maaack? Whyyy do they call it 'downstaaage' if it's not under the staaage?"
o O o
"So then I think we should have somebody jump out with a bloody knife and chase the others around until they finally unmask them and it turns out the serial killer was one of them the whole time!"
"There is no serial killer in this play, Brittany!"
Oh, yeah? Then why does my character keep talking about slaying demons?"
o O o
Ready or not, opening night had arrived. The kids gathered nervously backstage while Mr. Hanson firmly refused to let Upchuck go onstage with a lightsaber. Jane was frantically putting the final touches on her scenery even while Mack was trying to get it set up onstage. Jodie just paced back and forth, occasionally peeking at the audience from behind the curtain and muttering something about setting off the fire alarm to save everyone from themselves.
Mr. Hanson checked his watch. "Okay, five minutes until curtain!"
Mack tapped him on the shoulder. "We have a problem."
"Only one?" Mr. Hanson asked. "That's the best news yet!"
Mack pointed at one of the plywood trees, which was wobbling ominously. "Some of the set pieces aren't going to stay upright. Someone overdid it on the paint layers."
"'Paint an inch thick'?" Jodie teased him. He glared back at her.
Jane crossed her arms. "Art follows no rules, not even the laws of physics."
Mr. Hanson let out a long sigh. "Stage crew, you'll have to stand behind the more precarious scenery and hold it up. Got it?"
Mack nodded. Jane gave him an elaborate salute. Tiffany didn't even look up from inspecting her nails.
"All right, showtime!" Mr. Hanson prepared to step out in front of the curtain. "Places, please!"
Stacy, Upchuck, and Kevin scrambled to their assigned places for the opening scene as Mr. Hanson stood before the audience. "Glenfield Middle School is proud to present 'How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love My Inner Self'!" He tugged on the curtain, which smoothly parted to reveal the actors.
It was to be the only thing that went right for the entire performance.
"I..." Kevin squinted at some writing on his hand. "Really...app-oh, hi Mom!" He waved frantically at his mother, who cringed but waved back. "Dad! Check this out!" He stuck his hand inside his shirt with a practiced motion and made several very impressive armpit farts.
"That's my boy!" a man shouted from the audience.
"Skip ahead!" Mr. Hanson hissed from the wings, motioning for Stacy to say her line next. Stacy hadn't moved since the curtain opened, and her eyes were locked on the crowd watching the play. She didn't even blink; if her chest wasn't visibly rising and falling rapidly as she hyperventilated, one might have mistaken her for a statue. Mr. Hanson changed strategies immediately. "Charles! Go!"
To his credit, Upchuck suffered from exactly zero stage fright. "AS YOUR MENTOR!" he bellowed, "I RECOMMEND DAILY AFFIRMATIONS!" As he shouted his lines, he also clawed the air wildly and paced back and forth like a caged animal. "TO INCREASE YOUR POSITIVE ENERGY! AND DECREASE YOUR NEGATIVE ENERGY!" Then he dropped into a crouch and let out a savage wolf-like howl. "Oh, no!" he shrieked. "A full moon! I'm turning into a...a...WEREWOLF!" And with that, he tried to chase Kevin, who just stared blankly at him while continuing to make armpit farts. He turned his rage on Stacy, who remained frozen in place and didn't even react. At last he decided to attack the nearest tree, tearing off a large chunk of plywood with his teeth.
"He's literally chewing the scenery," Jodie whispered in horror from backstage before being knocked aside by a furious Jane.
"Don't touch my precious baby!" Jane yelled, sprinting at full speed toward Upchuck. She hurled herself at him, but he was lucky enough to duck in time to avoid being flattened by an enraged artist. As she whirled around to try again, the set piece she'd been holding upright swayed slightly and then fell over with a loud "thud."
"Is it tiiiime to knock oooover the sceneryyy?" Tiffany asked, shoving the plywood she'd been holding onto to the ground. She wandered over to another, and pushed it over as well. Mack left his own post and started trying to put them back. He ended up knocking over even more as he tried to avoid Jane, who was still chasing Upchuck around the stage. At one point Mack collided with a still-petrified Stacy, who fell to the floor in exactly the same position as she'd been standing in.
Kevin went on grinning and making armpit farts.
"Quick!" Mr. Hanson whispered loudly. "Next scene!"
Brittany needed no persuasion. "Never fear!" she proclaimed, rushing onto the stage. "I am a werewolf killer and I will save you all!" She stuck a heroic pose and then exploded into a whirlwind of kicks, leaps, and punches. She joined Jane in pursuing Upchuck, knocking over the last of the scenery in the process. She lunged at Upchuck, missing him but very effectively taking down Mack in an impressive maneuver.
Mr. Hanson watched in silent dismay. He turned to see Sandi and Jodie still backstage. "Any chance we can still salvage this?" he asked them with little hope.
"I am not going out there," Sandi sniffed.
"Yeah," Jodie agreed. "It's dangerous!"
Sandi shook her head. "I'm referring to this!" She pointed to a small wrinkle in her skirt. "Unless you produce an iron this instant, I refuse to perform."
Jodie groaned. "It's up to me, isn't it?" she asked. "As usual." She took a deep breath and marched out, taking center stage as the chaos whirled around her. "I realize now that I have been in denial over the existence of werewolves," she said, back straight and voice steady, "but after some armpit farts and deforestation I think I've achieved total combat and can strive toward...toward..." she glanced at Stacy, "true self-paralysis."
Nothing else she said was audible, because the shouting and set destruction had grown too loud for her to even shout over. Shrugging, she dipped into an exaggerated bow and stalked offstage just as the curtain came down. Literally, as someone had made the unfortunate choice to let Tiffany help construct the apparatus.
The audience, after a long and confused pause, gave a timid smattering of applause. Kevin's dad was still chortling in his seat, and near the back a man in a pink shirt was weeping into his program. "It was never supposed to be like this!" he wailed to no one in particular. "It was going to be so...beautiful!"
