CHAPTER TWO: NIGHTS AT THE BAR, DAYS AT THE OPERA
The transition from the posh private school to a lowly public one should have been difficult for Setzer, but, miraculously, it wasn't. In fact, Setzer actually started to like going off every morning to get an education, despite the lower standards, the underpaid teachers, and the second-rate equipment.
For now Setzer was accepted--more than accepted. The lack of pretension and snobbery was a change for the better, and the kids were friendly for once. Although he would have liked the place to have a little more class, Setzer cheerfully took the bad with the good. Besides, the casual air of the school lent the fallen-from-grace child a bit of its atmosphere: Setzer became less haughty and surly very quickly, though he never once lost his resolve to become rich again.
Growing up in these new, affable surroundings, Setzer rose to be one of the most admired, most popular boys in the school, and, by the tender age of fifteen, his reputation preceded him in all the local, humble haunts.
Why was this? First of all, Setzer still dressed impeccably, and his fashion sense blew the socks off all of his classmates. Second, the boy was rather handsome, in a delicate, seraphic way, and, whether it be fair or not, attractiveness attracts admiration. Third, Setzer was exceedingly intelligent and witty, and he had a biting yet refined, somewhat sarcastic sense of humor, though he still enjoyed a good cheap laugh--he was only a boy. And Setzer was friendly and easy-going, if a tad bit full of himself (he wasn't completely humble); he never judged anybody on first appearances.
These traits earned him many friends and admirers, along with a few enemies, but over the years, Setzer became great friends with four other boys. The little group became notorious throughout the school, never failing to keep the gossipy girls full of delicious scandals.
Lorenzo Rivera was a red-haired youth of average proportions, the son of a blacksmith; he was the most talkative of the group, though not the most eloquent--he was too fiery and blunt. In fact, he could have been a more caustic, male version of Dulcina, and the other boys never hesitated to make fun of him for it. And what was worse, Lorenzo deeply admired Mrs. Gabbiani, if he didn't have an outright crush on her (he blushed and stammered in her presence). Setzer and the rest thought this too rich. "You'd better watch out, Lorenzo. My dad's got a dirk and shovel stowed away under the couch and a secret patch out on the plains. I doubt anybody's gonna miss you." Setzer used this line every time the group came to his house, and eventually Lorenzo became so embarrassed that he refused to set foot inside the Gabbiani home--the boys had to stay out on the front porch if they wanted to come calling.
Vardaman (he had no last name that Setzer could recall), affectionately dubbed Mandy, was the poorest of the group and the smallest, but quite possibly the most entertaining. His parents had used to be wandering performers in a carnival; they were famous in town as professional contortionists, actors, and puppeteers, and Mandy seemed to be picking up the family business. The boy, who was so dexterous and lithe that he seemed to be made out of rubber, could do the most amazing things with his limbs, squeeze through about any opening. And the voices he could do! Once Mandy got a good hearing of what a person sounded like, male or female, he could imitate him or her perfectly. He despised the rich and loved tormenting them, much to the delight of others.
Benoit Gaetan--Benny--the foreigner, a boy who had come to Jidoor from Maranda, rivaled Setzer in bravado, but his sense of humor was much more puerile. A tall, burly youth, he played sports of all kinds and excelled at them. He loved boasting about his exploits, but it was not that haughty kind of boasting; it was a whimsical facade, full of humor. His nature was essentially childish; even when he reached adulthood, he acted like a big kid and remained unchanged until he died. He was, in a sense, the heavy artillery of the gang, because he was strongest and the best fist-fighter. But the thing Benoit was most famous for was his way with the girls, which will be addressed shortly.
Last and usually least: Joel Jarrgas, J.J. He was the odd man out in the group, unpopular, shy and quiet, and didn't talk about himself much. The other boys were fine young men and handsome; J.J. was not. He wasn't hideously ugly, but the circumstances of his birth were unhealthy, and the boy had a thin body, rather sallow complexion, a disproportionately large head and hands, deep-set, placid brown eyes and a heavy-browed, bullish face. Furthermore, J.J. could not read (he suffered from mild dyslexia) nor speak very well. His voice was deep and dull, maddeningly slow, and it took him a long time to finish sentences. This unfortunate trait made people--even his own parents, but they also loved him dearly and never hurt him--believe he was stupid, which was exactly opposite of the truth. J.J. had as a head on his shoulders as good as anybody else's, but his way of thinking was stunted, a child's logic with a teenager's knowledge. Young Setzer had realized what many adults did not, and invited the boy to be a part of the little clique, where he would not be mocked, but protected. J.J., thrilled with the prospect, had accepted gleefully. The other boys had been a bit skeptical at first, but J.J. didn't bother them, and so they learned to like him. Besides, J.J. was useful at gathering information: he was inconspicuous, and, being a supposed simpleton, people never were cautious around him.
Setzer guided these four throughout countless misadventures; the boys became famous for their pranks, the town entertainment. They were the darlings of the middle-class and the banes of the wealthy.
Indeed, the rich youngsters of Jidoor were always the victims of the little troupe's attentions, without exception. For Setzer, even after all these years, still had a rancor in his hearts towards the young people who had mistreated him as a child, and there was always that sense of jealousy and longing that filled him when he saw the fop-spawn prancing down the street, sniffing down their noses at everybody that was not on their level.
It was almost purely selfish: if he couldn't enjoy living in the lap of luxury, then Setzer wouldn't let any of those haughty snobs enjoy their riches, either. But Setzer also intensely disliked the way that the upper class treated his friends--sometimes the affluent were truly mean-spirited and just plain cruel. A fledgling dandy once crushed a pet dog of Benoit's underneath his carriage and didn't even apologize. In fact, the boy had actually yelled at Benoit for ruining the copper-plated hubcaps while the dying mutt howled feebly in its tearful master's arms.
Keeping such instances as this in his mind, Setzer made up his mind: when he became fabulously rich, he would only look down his nose at the snobs less wealthy than he, not the middle-class. But he wouldn't coddle the lower caste, either. The old friends he had he would clasp to his bosom and give aid to them when needed, but no more than that. Philanthropy, Setzer thought, made people soft and lazy and even more pompous than ever, rich bloated people giving out doles to people who would only squander the money anyway. Besides, when had he ever felt the kindness of a stranger's money?
Setzer and his friends proceeded to wage a campaign against their well-heeled enemies; however, they weren't indiscriminant. Those children who had not tormented Setzer too badly in his old school days or those who had mended their ways and became kinder were spared the wrath of the dreaded quintet. Many of the rich were of either of these two types, and the foe was actually a very select group. Which was just fine where the gang was concerned, because it meant a small, solid, definite battleground for them to work on.
From the very start of hostilities, the boys trounced their adversaries due to wonderful teamwork. Setzer usually was the one who came up with the actual schemes, with some help from the others; J.J. was sent out and gathered the needed information; then Setzer, Mandy, and Lorenzo would put the plan into action, while Benoit provided protection and back-up in case of emergencies.
They never physically harmed the snobs they targeted; humiliation and more subtle forms of torment were employed. For instance, one day they would 'borrow' some of the wealthy kids' chocobos and take them clear to the other side of the city; the next they would foster strife between one unfortunate victim and his or her girl/boyfriend--many couples were broken up by the sarcastic, biting words of Lorenzo and Setzer's smooth, cajoling ones. Benoit specialized in stealing a young lady's attentions from her beaux. J.J. mainly stayed out of the action, but he always had great fun, his low guffaws a victory trumpet after a successful prank.
But it was Mandy who was probably the most feared of the five--the small boy did the most damage and was the hardest to pin any wrongdoing on. One of his favorite things to pull was to pass by the door of the auction house and quietly poke his head in, careful not to disturb anything; when a person he particularly disliked opened his mouth to make a bid, Mandy would then shout out in a perfect imitation of the person's voice, "A MILLION GP!!!", quickly running away before he was caught, giggling madly all the while.
It was the high point of Setzer's young life; he never had so much fun. School was somewhat stimulating, the days were full of wonderful tricks, the evenings usually spent in the company of his good friends, and what was best of all, his parents never interfered.
Ponzo and Dulcina were definitely not thrilled with their son's behavior, but some of his antics amused them, and he never did any true harm--it wasn't like he was a hooligan or anything, terrorizing everybody and shooting things. Furthermore, they were both indulgent and practical parents. They wanted their boy to have fun--he was a good student and had waited out the bad times, and they felt they owed him something. They trusted that he wouldn't go overboard. Whenever an irate parent pounded on the front door or had the nerve to march in on her when at work, Dulcina's response to the inevitable angry complaint about Setzer and her bad parenting was always the same.
"My dear Mr./Mrs. So-And-So," Dulcina would reply stiffly, her brownish-red eyebrows knitting together and her chin jutting out pugilistically, "I am truly sorry that Setzer did (insert crime here), but what do you expect me to do about it? You have a child yourself and know how stubborn they are. I could talk to my boy about his behavior and give him a whipping or two, but what good would it do? If he's made up his mind to do something, he does it. And, if you don't mind my saying so, I don't care what happened to your brat. If (s)he's anything like you, then (s)he probably deserved it. Good day, and don't forget to soak your head in the water-barrel outside. Things deflate when put into cold water, or so I hear."
And when she got home from work, Dulcina would take her husband aside and say to him, "Ponzo, I got another complaint today."
"Oh gods, what'd the boy do today?" Ponzo would moan, rubbing his eyes.
He always laughed when she told him, and said, "By Bahamut, the boy's a true Gabbiani! Only we can think up things so clever as that!"
"You're both impossible," Dulcina would snap. "Setzer won't listen to me, and you encourage him. The boy's going to go too far one of these days."
"Listen, Sweetheart, stop beating yourself up about it. You break your back for this family, but you can't do everything. Setzer's young and just wants to have a good time. If he does get into trouble, he'll have to learn responsibility on his own. You can only do so much."
"I guess," she'd sigh, "but I really wish he'd stop it. I can't stand much more of this...all that whining and bitching from those stupid, stupid people! Why can't Setzer get interested in girls or something?"
"Don't worry. Those particular genes will be asserting themselves very soon," Ponzo would assure with a rakish wink. "Just you wait!"
*************
The days went on, and Setzer's school ended for summer break. To celebrate their first evening of freedom, Setzer and his entourage went to one of their favorite haunts, a tavern christened The Scarlet Hart. It was a nice place, rather rustic, it wasn't as smoky as some other bars, it was charming, and the food was better than most. The boys were crowded around a small table, sharing a basket of breadsticks.
"Ha ha ha!!" Benny exulted, raising a tankard of strong, meady ale up into the air, nearly sloshing the foam onto Mandy's face, "Here's to us for surviving another year!"
"I'll drink to that," Setzer smiled, raising up his glass of deep red wine, the finest the humble tavern had to offer. Mandy and Lorenzo roared their approval, thrusting out their drinks, while J.J., who didn't drink wine because it made him too 'excited,' had to make do with pounding the table.
Benny licked the foam off his upper lip and addressed his leader: "So, Swanky,"--Benoit's nickname for Setzer, a good-natured dig at the latter's fashionable dress-- "We're young, handsome, and free. Free! What do you have coming up this summer?"
"I don't know for sure," Setzer mused. He pulled out a deck of cards from his coat pocket, opened them, and deftly flicked a card between his fingers contemplatively. "My parents don't like vacations, so we won't be going anywhere. They might try to make me get a job, but I won't do it."
"Same here," Benoit concurred, nodding. "Hell's gonna freeze over before I ever get my hands dirty. Damned if my folks'll take away my childhood. Me, I'm gonna play hard, drink hard...and love hard." He smacked his lips with anticipation at the last sentiment, making a growling noise in his throat.
"Bah!" Lorenzo spat into his mug, his fiery red eyebrows arched and askew. "I don't see why you even bother with them. Young girls can't romance worth jack. Their perfume's always so heavy that you gag, their make-up's thick enough to stick a GP in, and the ones that aren't dumb are ugly. You're wasting your time, Benny. Getting a job is better than screwing your brains out all day--which is what you'd do. Playing and drinking, my ass! You'll be so tied down, you won't have time for us, you traitor."
"Oh ho HO!" Mandy chirped, his black eyes laughing as he punched Lorenzo in the arm. " 'Enzo's in a bad mood tonight. What's got your panties in such an uproar? No more school! That should make even you happy."
"I am happy. It's just that I don't want to hear another cursed word about...Benny's... 'plans.'"
"Oh, I get it," Benoit hooded his eyes knowingly, "you're just being snotty because you prefer Setzer's mama!!"
Everybody at the table had a fit of laughter, except for Lorenzo, of course, who simply sat there, his deep blue eyes frigid but a tight, acrimonious smile on his sharp-edged face.
"Well," Lorenzo finally said after the others had stopped laughing, "Setzer's mother is a much better prize than yours, Benny." He pointed out the tavern's window at a small, mangy mongrel that was limping along the street.
"OH," Mandy roared, slapping the table, "BURN, BURN, BURN!! That's gotta hoit, Benny!"
Benoit sputtered impotently, obviously striving to come back with a witty and devastating zinger, but Setzer cut in.
"Come on, 'Enzo. Be nice. We all want to stay friends, here." Setzer gave a complacent look as he stared down at the cards in his slender, long fingers.
"Wanna play a game?" Mandy inquired, gesturing to his friend's deck; Setzer shook his head.
"Heck, no. You guys know me too well. I'd get stiffed."
Even though all of this was said in jest, every boy at the table knew it to be true. Setzer, albeit a skilled and suave player, had one fatal quirk: whenever he had a winning hand, the right corner of his mouth would inevitably twitch ever so slightly. This was not a problem when he played with strangers, but his close friends or the experienced cardsharps always caught the reaction and folded before a big win. Setzer had spent countless nights in front of his mirror, trying to get his traitorous face to behave and be perfectly still, but with no results. His poker face was flawed, and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it.
As a result, Setzer never challenged his friends at cards; those games not requiring poise and stoicism were considered babyish. No self-respecting fifteen-year-old wastes his time playing War.
"Oh, gods forbid that one of us actually win a game against you, Gabby," Lorenzo laughed, rolling his eyes. Setzer skillfully maneuvered a card in between his index finger and thumb and, with an adroit flick of the wrist, sent the projectile flying right into the other boy's face.
"Ow! Gabby, you jerk! Put my bloody eye out, why don't you!" Lorenzo snapped, chunking the card back, but his aim was all wrong. The card went five inches before pathetically fluttering back and landing in his lap.
"Will you look at that?" Setzer demanded of J.J.. "No poise! No grace! All wrong, wrong! Isn't that sad, J.J.?"
"Very sadsome," the large-headed boy drawled dumbly, an easy grin on his florid features. J.J. had a sometimes odd way of speaking. As a child, he had often liked to make up his own words and garble up phrases, and he still did so on occasion as a point of pride.
"Aw, look at that," Mandy crooned, edging closer to J.J.. "Lorenzo, look what you've done. J.J.'s lookin' to cry! Isn't that right?"
Before J.J. could reply, Mandy had shot up his hand and gently grasped the boy's jaw and started to move it while he said in a perfect imitation of J.J.'s deep, muddled voice, "Yes, I'm gonna cry out my eyes, I'm so sadeous. Boo hoo! Boo hoo! Lorenzo's the most grunicious person in the world. Makin' dummies like me cry. For shame!"
"Lay off, Mandy. Unless you want a card in the face yourself," Setzer remarked easily, brandishing a ten of hearts. Mandy thrust up his hands and scooted away, rolling his eyes in feigned terror.
"Oh, no! Save me! You'll gouge out my eyes! I'll go blind! We all know how much damage a piece of cardboard can cause!"
"Yeah," Lorenzo barked, laughing appreciatively at the dramatist, "looks like the cards aren't intimidating enough, Gabby. Why don't you try throwing a sheet of paper or a cotton ball?"
"Shut up," Setzer said flatly, putting the cards away in the recess of his coat pocket. Mandy giggled and returned to the table, resuming the business of downing his drink.
After a few moments of drinking in silence, Benny's body suddenly twitched and his eyes went wide; he shivered slightly, raising his eyebrows and licking his lips as he announced:
"Get ready. There's a buncha honey coming our way!"
Lo and behold! Mere seconds later, a small squadron of girls, all of them from Setzer's school, made their way into the vicinity.
"Looks like we're not the only ones partying tonight," Benny continued, appraising them all with an experienced eye from tip to toe--especially from the neck down. "It's our big chance, guys! And there's more than enough to go around."
"Go get 'em, Lust Machine," Lorenzo said dryly. "Switch seats with me, Mandy."
The exchange was made, and Lorenzo was now sitting beside J.J. The redheaded boy drew the latter into a conversation, and both of them moved their chairs away from the table.
" 'Enzo, you're gonna miss out!" Mandy sang out, spot-checking himself in the table's lacquered surface.
"Years from now, I'll look back on this and rue the day I didn't get laid," came the response. Setzer laughed; Lorenzo hated flirting and didn't care much for most girls, thinking that both were vapid, worthless, and just plain stupid.
Setzer smiled to himself, made sure that his long hair was straight and pulled back into a perfect ponytail, and then made himself ready.
For the dashing young man had his own method of dealing with the female persuasion: whenever a pretty young thing came his way, he would half-close his eyes, cross his arms on the table, and mold his face so that it wore a bored, somewhat surly, yet suggestive expression. He spoke little and did not openly flirt; the affable Setzer now became a mysterious, discontented, laconic, aloof swain, and this drove girls wild. His body language cried out for something to break his boredom, and many girls would have loved to give the handsome, fashionable Setzer Gabbiani the time of his life. He seemed untamable--and what girl doesn't want to get a maverick and make him into her lapdog?
"Hello, ladies!" Benny called out merrily to the gaggle, raising his glass. "Jenna! Dolly! Beatrix, you sexy thang! Care to sit with us?"
The girls giggled coyly, exchanging looks; most, if not all, of them knew Benny and enjoyed his company immensely. He was good-looking, with a good, muscular physique, a strong jaw, happy brown eyes in a boyish face and nice brown hair, kept short despite that it was the fashion for men to wear their hair long. He was indulgent and liberal with compliments, which were like popcorn to the girls' egos. And he had interesting friends except for Lorenzo, who was funny but had a mean streak.
"Only if you'll buy us something to drink, you big stud, " one of the girls called out in return, her eyes shining.
"Done, and done. Barkeep! Some refreshments for my fine little friends, here!" Benny shouted, snapping his fingers; the girls gave their orders and then flocked around the boys' table.
"Hello, Benny!" several girls chorused, some leaning against him, some pressed close, one of them even got into his lap. Benoit laughed lustily, tickled one or two, pinched a few more, and started whispering into their ears, eliciting giggles, blushes, and cries of "You're sick!" accompanied by playful slaps.
Some of the other girls chose Mandy for their attentions. Mandy was one of those boys who was simply adorable: he was small and slender, his skin was the color of hazelnuts (very exotic), his thin, street-orphan face was dominated by two very large almond-shaped eyes, and his thick black hair was silky and hung in loose curls. The girls doted on him. They loved his humor, his tricks, and they thought he was just toooo cute. In mere moments, Mandy had them all cooing and laughing while he cuddled up like a puppy in one lucky maid's lap.
The remainder of the girls gather around Setzer, who was enjoying this turn of events very much. They asked him innocent, idle questions and prattled on and on; he would smile ever so slightly and nod, and on the rare occasions when he spoke he did so in a low, husky voice.
Ever since he had hit puberty, Setzer had loved girls. He loved looking at them. The curves, the lovely painted faces, the way they walked, their luminous hair, their scent, their dresses, the bodices, their long legs and busty chests--was there anything ever so beautiful, so poetic, as a young lady?
As he breathed in their perfumes and let his eyes and lips roam where they pleased, Setzer's attention was momentarily distracted by a cry from Benny's little entourage. He must have said something rather crude, because the girls squirmed and said, in perfect synchronization: "Ewww! You're so immature!"
Setzer had to restrain himself from laughing scornfully. He loved admiring girls, that was beyond question, and he had kissed quite a few of them, but his delectation was soured by the girls themselves.
The boy did not respect many girls his age; if it wasn't for his accursed hormones, he probably would have had the same attitude as Lorenzo. He disliked the way that girls imposed complete monogamy on the boys they dated while they themselves could have several beaux at once. He hated the way they always wanted concessions: the man had to pay for everything. But the thing that he disliked the most was their conversation: girls could be witty, but they rarely were, and they talked about the most boring things. Who was dating who, clothes--sometimes interesting, granted--emotions, love, always love! And they were vicious towards the girls they didn't like. Forget the macho, violent treatment boys inflicted on one another, the sneaky, treacherous, malicious torments of vengeful teenage girls were a thousand times worse. If he had had his way, Setzer would have made all women, with several exceptions, utterly dumb. They were works of art, and like works of art, they should be silent.
To tell the whole sordid truth, the only woman well-known to him that Setzer respected and, yes, admired--though he'd never admit it--was his mother. He didn't blame Lorenzo at all; the boy had great taste, and knew integrity when he saw it.
"You think he's immature?" Lorenzo snapped, turning from J.J. to Benny's group. "It's funny. How can you call him immature when you're all giggling like ninnies? You like it, and you know it! You're just as bad. No, worse! At least Benny's honest--I overhear some of your snotty conversations in the halls, you backstabbing broads, and they're just as stupid as anything he's ever said. Immature!" Lorenzo spat on the floor. Setzer wanted to laugh and give a high-five, but vetoed the notion--he didn't want to lose his lovelies. Their winning ways had hooked him, no matter what came out of their mouths.
"Oh, shut up," one of the girls, looking rather tipsy, retorted. "We're just having some fun while you sit there, talking with that idiot. Don't you snap at us!"
"Come on, Lorenzo. Don't make waves, okay?" Benny pleaded, casting an imploring look in Setzer's direction.
"Zip it," Setzer commanded, leveling his finger like he was going to stab Lorenzo with it.
"Kiss it," Lorenzo growled back, slapping his keister; the boys and a few girls had a laugh at that.
"Now, now," J.J. spoke up in his drawl, "no need for that. Let's all be friendlious, eh? Summer's here in all its glumptious glory. Isn't that enough?"
"Your little pal's got something, there," a girl laughed, raising up her glass. "A toast! To summer!"
"To summer!" came the collective cry.
"To wine!" Setzer crowed.
"To beer!"
"To looove!" Benny shouted, leering at the girls clustered around him.
"To Benny's raging manhood!" Mandy snickered.
"To swim trunks," J.J. said softly, clapping his hands.
"Yuck. That's an image we all could have lived without, J.J.," a girl giggled, sticking out her tongue; J.J. cast down his eyes and rubbed his hands self-consciously.
"And what about you, Lorenzo? There's gotta be something you like about summer," Benny prompted; all eyes turned to the red-haired youth. Lorenzo scowled, turned around in his seat and regarded the table with a flat expression.
"To alcohol poisoning--may you all get it," he said in a monotone, chunking his empty tankard at Benny's head.
Everybody, a bit light-headed from the beer and wine, erupted into laughter and continued their revelry, growing louder and more rowdy as the night went on. Mandy once even dangled from a chandelier by one arm, monkey-boy that he was.
"Damn kids," the barkeep muttered to himself as he watched his property being abused--he knew what to expect this summer: chicanery, riot, arson, and vandalism! These kids were the worst bunch that Jidoor had to offer in years. He could only guess at what crazy stunts they'd do in the upcoming days.
Setzer and his little band did not disappoint. Over the hot, wild, primey summer months, they pulled the most tricks they ever had, and they had wonderful fun without ever getting into deep trouble (mostly because they could outrun most of the guards). But their greatest triumph, their best prank, was the first and last time they attended the Jidoorian Opera House.
*************
Mandy's parents, being members of the Professional Actor's Guild of Jidoor, were given free season passes every year to any theatrical performance in the city, including the stunning productions at the Opera House. His little sisters and Mandy himself were also included in the deal. So, one particularly sweltering, sticky day when the little group was suffering from terrible ennui, Mandy proposed that they go see the last performance of a prestigious and popular opera, The Romance of the Dragon and the Star, before it went on tour. Nobody would have to pay a thing: Mandy had his own pass, his parents had gladly donated their tickets, and he had gotten his sisters' passes by promising to give them his suppertime dessert for a month.
Having nothing better to do and bored out of their skulls, Setzer and the others agreed. None of them had ever been to the Opera House--admission was outrageously expensive--and they all, Setzer especially, wanted to see if the place was as opulent as it was cracked up to be. They put on their best clothes, rented some chocobos, and off they went.
The Jidoorian Opera House was very lovely. It was constructed entirely of granite and marble in the shape of a great cathedral, complete with flying buttresses and rose windows of beautiful stained glass. The carpeting inside was either velvet or mink. The stairs and floor were gilded, and mirrors covered the walls. Setzer immediately liked the place.
Although the seats were free, that didn't mean they were good. When the boys presented their tickets, an usher took one look at the group before him and led them up to some balcony seats, where the middle-class patrons were relegated (the rich were seated on the ground floor), and sat them on the first row. The usher left without giving them the special opera glasses, so while their view of the stage was unhindered, everything was small.
"Well," Mandy whistled, rolling up his program and looking through it as he would a telescope, "it looks a little better this way, I suppose."
"What a gyp," Benny mumbled, Lorenzo seconding; even J.J. looked disappointed.
"Come on, you uncultured swines," Setzer baited, trying to cover up his own sinking feelings. "Don't you know anything? The visuals don't matter--it's the music that makes these things great. As long as you know who's singing what, it doesn't matter how far away they are."
"Whatever you say, Gabby," Lorenzo shrugged, fidgeting with the scratchy starched collar of his coat. "What's this thing about, anyway?"
Mandy flipped through his program and said: "Here we are. 'Thrill! As you watch this timeless story of love, hatred, and betrayal palpitate on the stage! Cheer! For the heroic Draco as he strives to win the hand of his fair love, Maria! Boo! The fiendish, wicked Prince Ralse, who stands in the way of the two lovers! Swoon! When you see the beauteous Maria sing her timeless piece of passion, "Aria Di Mezzo Carattere"! Cry bravo! To the stirring music, the smoldering, classic plot, and the golden voices of the finest singers Jidoor has to offer! Munch! As you chow down on the tasty snacks from the finest concession stand--'"
"That's not in there, Mandy...you made that up!" Lorenzo accused.
"Excuuuse me, Mr. Anal. Let's see...Nope. That's where it ends, unless you'd like me to read off the names of the actors. "
" No thanks. Well," Lorenzo said, puffing out his breath, "that certainly left nothing to the imagination."
"Too many exclamation points," Benny nodded.
"Shut up," Setzer said good-naturedly, trying but failing to remain aloof and disgusted, "and behave properly. This isn't some dumb play, you know. Respect, gentlemen!"
"Okay, okay. We'll be good--if the opera is," Benny grinned.
The great crystal chandelier that hung down from the marble ceiling turned dull and the footlights of the stage flared; all movement and chatter ceased. The overture began.
Things went started off well. As Setzer had foretold, the music really was something beautiful, and even Lorenzo seemed to be enjoying himself.
A strange quirk about opera: the music may be astounding, the scenes and costumes gorgeous, but the plot and libretto is almost always ridiculously stupid. Men with powerful lungs and voices sing beautiful ten-minute arias merely to observe the fact that the sun has risen. The filler dialogue is horrendous(SOPRANO: "Say you love me! Say you love me!" BASS: "I love you!" SOPRANO: "Truly?" BASS: "No!"). Most of the people attending had been born and raised on opera and learned to overlook and even love its failings, but Setzer and his friends were fifteen-year-olds at their first performance. They wanted to be entertained, not enlightened.
A roly-poly man with a thin, finely clipped mustache and dressed in a fine suit stepped into the center of the stage. This was the main opera director, the Impresario himself, playing a cameo role. He began to speak, a lone harp accompanying his words:
The West and East were waging war...
Draco, the West's great hero, thinks of his love, Maria.
Is she safe? Is she waiting?
The Impresario then waddled off. Setzer felt a tap on his shoulder; he turned his head and faced Lorenzo, who was leaning over across Benny's lap.
"What kind of an introduction was that?" Lorenzo demanded in a whisper. "It didn't tell you squat! There's a war on, and all this guy can think of is this Maria lady?"
J.J. furrowed his brow and pouted his lips, looking every inch the idiot, and he whispered gruffly in his dull voice, "Opera BAD!" Benny and Mandy shook with pent up snickers.
"Will you shut up and behave? This is the Opera House, for the gods' sake!" Setzer hissed back; with glum, petulant faces, the others complied.
The red velvet curtain then rose up majestically, revealing the set of a rocky outcropping with billowy clouds in the background. The music changed to a heroic thrumming as Draco walked grandly onto the stage. He was a huge man with an abnormally large chin, relatively small eyes that looked to be outlined with charcoal, and ridiculously skinny ankles which the dazzling silver armor did not conceal. But the most grabbing thing: the man was fat. Setzer had grown up thinking that most opera singers were big, but Draco was the topper.
"WHOA! Look at that big honker down there!" Benny gasped--out loud. People hissed from behind them, telling the boy to shut up. Setzer didn't know whether to strangle the idiot or laugh; he settled on shooting him a nasty look, which was promptly ignored.
"Man, if this is the best the West can do...the East is going to win so fast," Lorenzo whispered conspiratorially to Mandy, who giggled.
"Maybe he sits on his enemies and squamps them flatter than fritters," J.J. suggested.
Setzer surreptitiously brought his leg around Benny's and gave Lorenzo a kick.
As Draco reached the center of the stage, three men on chocobos came dashing on from off-stage; one of them seemingly creamed Draco, making the man fall to the floor.
"Huh?!" J.J. gaped, back into idiot mode, scratching at his head.
"It's the East's Chocobo Death Squad!" Mandy announced, almost shouting but catching himself.
"If you want to kill a man, run him over with a chocobo," Lorenzo concurred.
"Will you guys--?!" Setzer hissed, shaking with laughter but trying desperately to remain outraged at this blatant disregard of etiquette.
"Stop resisting. Join in. You know you wanna. Stop being such a prick and have fun! You can't mean to say that you're actually enjoying this?" Benny asked slyly.
Setzer raised his hands and let them fall limply to his sides in resignation. If they were going to act so badly, he'd might as well join in on the fun.
Draco then began to sing:
Oh, Maria,
Oh, Maria,
Please, hear my voice!
How I long to be with you!
"Um, Draco, sorry to intrude on your little love song, but she can't hear you," Setzer mumbled, rolling his eyes.
"Whew!" Mandy fanned at his face with his program, pretending to gag. "That last note was way to low for any human being to make by singing...I think he burped it. Lay off the garlic, Drac."
"Our hero, Sir Lardo: a big stinky love-smitten doof with weak ankles," Lorenzo muttered, putting his head between his legs.
"HATE opera!" J.J. grunted, just a little too loudly. Hisses and threats of calling an usher followed from the increasingly irritable people sharing the box.
"You punks show some respect!" a man sitting directly behind them whispered angrily.
"Bite me!" Benny snapped back, making even Setzer snicker; however, the boys, not wishing to make any trouble, settled down.
After that lovely aria, Draco then sang for what seemed an eternity about his plans to attack the armies of the East, and several other actors playing Draco's lieutenants joined in. A rousing chorus began.
Then after the battle-plans were made, the scene changed from the outcropping to the interior of a castle. A trio of handmaidens--all of them too chubby for Setzer's taste--warbled about their mistress, the beauteous Maria, and of her love for Draco, and about the danger of the Eastern army, which was drawing ever closer to the castle. Throughout these two scenes, despite many temptations, none of the boys said a word.
The bombshell broke when the scene changed yet again, this time to the outside of Maria's fancy castle. The Impresario informed from off stage that the forces of the West fell ("Of course. Lardo was leading them," muttered Lorenzo) and Maria's castle had been taken by the East's Prince Ralse, who had forced her into agreeing to marrying him. But her love for Draco was still steadfast, they were assured.
This song, Setzer realized by looking at his program, was the famous "Aria Di Mezzo Carattere," and was supposed to be beautiful. And it really was quite gorgeous, but none of the boys cared. When the song was introduced by the sounds of a harp, J.J. dropped his jaw in delighted awe and drooled: "Durr...Are we in heaven?"
Maria glided gracefully onto the stage, and Setzer's eyebrows shot up; she was really was quite lovely, a slender wand of a brunette woman garbed in a gorgeous dress of ivory white silk.
"I declare this opera suddenly great!" Setzer laughed, leaning forward to get a better look.
"She is one hot mama," Benny concurred dreamily.
Maria began to sing:
Oh my hero, so far away now,
Will I ever see your smile?
Love goes away,
Like night into day,
It's just a fading dream...
I'm the darkness,
You're the stars,
Our love is brighter than the sun.
"Gods!" Lorenzo snorted. "Going into simile and metaphor overkill, sister?"
"Head...hurts..." J.J. whimpered; Mandy patted him on the back in sympathy.
For eternity, for me
There can be
Only you, my chosen one...
Must I forget you?
Our solemn promise?
Will autumn take the place of spring?
"Guys," Lorenzo murmured weakly, slumping onto his knees, keeling against the balcony, "if she sings one more metaphor...kill me. Just kill me."
"I just don't get it," Mandy whispered. "Why's she pining for the big fat dumb guy? I mean, his huge chin would engulf her face anytime they'd kiss...she'd smother!"
"Ah, but you see," Benny grinned, "men like Draco are in large demand."
"Benny," Setzer growled, "if I hear another pun, I'm throwing you over." Setzer truly hated puns; they were the lowest form of humor in his mind, and sickened him to no end.
Maria continued:
What shall I do?
I'm lost without you
(Lorenzo: "Woman, help thyself!")
Speak to me once more!
"If you're so desperate for him," Setzer murmured, "why don't you just get some bedsheets, tie them together, and use them to grapple down the walls?"
"Too obvious," Lorenzo chuckled.
"And too complicated," Mandy added.
"I don't care," Benny sighed, leaning over the balcony. "The dumber they are, the better, I say."
Maria then walked up some stairs to the roof of the castle; for a few moments she stood there, mooning about with a lovelorn expression on her fine features, when Draco, resplendent in his armor, suddenly appeared.
"What the--?!" the five whispered in unison, drawing some very nasty looks from the row behind them.
"Gentlemen, I think it's obvious: if Lardo can get in, then the army of the East must be even more pathetic than the West's." Lorenzo said, throwing up his hands.
"How did they take Maria's castle, anyway? With slingshots?" Setzer demanded; everyone guffawed silently at that.
Maria rushed over to Draco, and the two lovers started a slow, romantic dance. After a while, Draco then laughed gently (prompting Mandy to say, in Draco's voice: "Ha! You've got two left feet, baby!") before disappearing into thin air, leaving a bouquet of roses in his stead.
"Whoa...that was fantasmigous," J.J. marveled, "Draco turned into a bunch of flowers!"
Maria scooped up the bouquet and pressed it to her bosom; she made her graceful way up to the highest point on the roof and started to sing again:
We must part now,
My life goes on,
But my heart
Won't give you up.
Here she tossed the flowers high into the air. "Jump after them!" Lorenzo hissed, prompting the rest of them to chant quietly, "Jump! Jump! Jump!"
She continued:
Ere I walk away,
Let me hear you say
I meant as much to you...
So gently, you touched my heart,
I will be forever yours.
Come what may,
I won't age a day
("Um, sorry sweetie, but I've got a news flash: you will." scoffed Lorenzo.)
I'll wait for you always...
Maria stared off into the starry backdrop for a few seconds before her Chancellor came onto the scene, informing her that Prince Ralse wished to dance with her and that she needed to start adopting the spirit of the East.
The scene shifted to the interior of Maria's castle, where an elegant dance party was going underway. The heroine was dancing with a skinny, pale singer with extremely elaborate ruffles on his shirt and sleeves.
"That is not the villain," Benny gaped. "I will not accept that limp noodle as our villain! J.J. could beat up this man. "
"He dresses even goofier than you do, Setzer," Mandy twittered; Setzer brushed at his ruffles of shirt self-consciously, glaring at the small youth, and responded:
"Maybe that's because he's the only one who's got good taste."
"Looks like Maria doesn't have much to choose from," Lorenzo remarked. "It's either Lardo or Frilly-Boy, here. It sucks to be her."
The dancing below was interrupted by an Eastern guard rushing in and announcing that the remaining forces of the West were attacking the castle. And sure enough, two Western warriors rushed in, screaming "Attack!" at the top of their lungs.
"See? See?" Setzer pointed. "Three kids and a dog can take this castle!"
Just then, a bellow of "WAIT!" came from off-stage; Draco suddenly appeared from the shadows on a chocobo and proceeded to run over Ralse.
"What is with these people?" Benny demanded. "Can't anybody ride a chocobo properly? I've never seen such horrible driving!"
"Not if you count that one time J.J. rode down Main Street blindfolded and no reins," Mandy amended.
"Only because I was double-dared," J.J. pouted, raising up his hands defensively.
"Okay, this is a little ridiculous," Lorenzo sighed. "Lardo there manages to ride a chocobo right through the front gate, taking only two armed men with him, manages to overpower the guards outside, tromp down through the halls without anybody noticing him until two seconds before he busts in, and then he creams Ralse--like nobody saw that coming--and..."
"Stop it before you hurt yourself, old bean," Benny coaxed, laying a hand Lorenzo's head.
Draco, who had dismounted, started to sing:
Maria...
The lady responded with:
Draco...I've waited so long,
I knew you'd come...
"Took you long enough, ya big tub of lard!" Mandy sang out softly, mimicking her voice; the other boys shook with trying to contain their laughter.
Meanwhile, Prince Ralse belted out:
Maria will finally have
To become my queen!
"How can she become a queen if he's only a prince? I'm confused," Benny frowned.
"Just give up trying to figure it out," Setzer sighed, patting his friend on the shoulder.
Draco sang:
For the rest of my life,
I'll keep you near...
To which Ralse responded:
It's a duel!
The two men then engaged in a blatantly unrealistic but finely choreographed fight; they pussy-footed around each other and swung fluttering, weak blows.
"By all that's good and true!" Lorenzo spat. "Just sit on him, Lardo!"
The stirring action went on for another minute before Ralse, in a completely innovative move that no-one saw coming, threw a smoke bomb down on the ground, shrouding the stage in mist. When the air cleared, both Maria and Ralse were gone. "Mariaaaaa!" Draco shouted in anguish as the curtain dropped.
When the lights came on for intermission, the people in the box stood up, grumbling irritably amongst themselves whilst they shuffled out. The boys dropped to their knees under the seats to make sure no snooping usher saw them and started to confer amongst each other.
"This," Lorenzo said, "is the stupidest thing I've ever seen in my life."
"You love it," Benny goaded, grinning widely.
"Listen," Setzer hushed them, "I suggest we move to another box. Those people looked pretty angry; I'll bet they'll get an usher here to kick us out. I think that place two boxes down doesn't have that many people. Let's go there. But keep it quiet."
The boys sneaked their way into the desired seats without running into trouble.
"Hey, guys," Mandy giggled, tilting back in his seat, "I've got a great idea. Wait till the opera starts again."
After a few minutes, everybody had shuffled back into their seats and curtain rose for the second act, wherein Ralse was dragging Maria onto the roof of the castle. The skinny tenor then burst into a vehement song about the terrible revenge he was going to have on Draco, taking his sweet time about it, too. It was then that Mandy made his first move, and thus began the group's most (in)famous prank.
For Mandy no mere mimic, but an excellent ventriloquist; he could, without cracking his lips a millimeter, twist his voice so that it appeared to come from any corner of a room. And now he put his talents to work.
As Prince Ralse sang, a voice, seemingly from one of the center aisles on the ground floor, shouted, "Sum up!!"
The actor on stage paled ever so slightly, but continued his dread aria without breaking a note. Two ushers came up the aisle and roughly interrogated a hapless fop who seemed to have been the perpetrator, since he was sitting in approximately the same seat where the voice came from; the slighted patron protested his innocence with rather ungentlemanly words.
Meanwhile, the five boys were nearly dying with trying to hold in their mirth. After he got his breath back, Mandy struck again, this time making his voice appear to stem from the left section.
"Mari-aaa, baby, yours is truly a butt that just won't quit!"
The ushers made a mad dash over to the seeming source of the cat-call, but before they could ask a single question, another voice yelled from the other side of the theater: "Push him over the edge! The man's a limp noodle--even you could do it, Maria!"
Setzer felt a great rush of adrenaline and pleasure sing through his veins--this was too much fun. He leaned over and whispered suggestions to Mandy, as did the other boys, and the small ventriloquist had himself a field day.
The actors on stage began to sweat like pigs, but they gamely carried on. The ushers were driven from aisle to aisle in search of that damned heckler; Mandy even led them up to the boxes and back down again, giving them workout of a lifetime.
Ralse finished his piece and, with a relieved expression on his face, exited the stage, leaving the wretched Maria all alone. The actress, quite shakily, commenced to sing dolefully about the terrible state of affairs and questioning whether or not to commit suicide. It was a beautiful, passionate song of frenzy and despair.
A wicked smile crossed over Mandy's face; he reached into his coat and pulled out a small silver flask, and, winking, whispered, "Get a load of this."
As Mandy chugged at contents of the flask, a revelation so hideously funny and yet so improbable formed in Setzer's brain. His eyes widened and his jaw fell.
"He's not gonna--?" Benny gasped, staring at the mimic.
"Physically impossible. Not even you could do it, Mandy!" Lorenzo affirmed. Mandy only bothered to cock one eyebrow knowingly as he put away the now-empty container; his cheeks were bulging slightly as he lay in wait.
Maria's song was at the apex of its emotion; her body was trembling with the effort and pathos as her notes rose higher and higher on the scale. Then, when she started to hit the very top note, her mouth opening for breath...
"BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP!"
The trumpets sounded as Mandy was almost literally lifted out of his chair, but he had done the seemingly impossible: he had thrown his belch so that it appeared to be coming from the actress' mouth.
There was a moment of dead silence. Then Maria, whimpering quietly, slowly wilted to the ground in a dead faint. Another thump was heard from backstage (it was, unbeknownst to the audience, the Impresario, who had been thrown into a fine panic since the heckling started, but this was simply too much for him).
The wealthy people on the ground floor were petrified in their horror, but the attendees in the boxes erupted into resounding peals of laughter, including a certain quintet of fifteen-year-olds, who were on the verge of collapsing out of their seats. Mandy was showered with choked praises and weak slaps on the back.
Long after the other audience members ceased laughing, Setzer and his compatriots continued to gasp and gurgle. Finally, when he had regained his composure, Setzer looked up straight into the fuming, sweaty face of an usher.
"YOU!!" the man yelled. "Get out!!"
He yanked Setzer and Benny out of their seats by the backs of their coat collars, while another usher did the same to Mandy and Lorenzo. J.J. quietly rose and obediently waited.
The boys were marched posthaste out of the box. As they left, the middle-class patrons, sufficiently impressed by Mandy's talents, began to applaud and stand up in their seats, a rousing standing ovation. Mandy grinned from ear to ear and blew kisses out to the crowd; Setzer and the others walked out with their heads high and steps light. This had undoubtedly been their best trick to date.
When he became an adult, Setzer appreciated and admired opera and attended them regularly, but his very first opera always remained his favorite.