Act I
Scene I
Dawn. A black horizon line and the dim outline of the massive, bushy, branching tree that Leopards are seen in.
A massive, earsplitting crash.
The set of the sunrise falls forward (or is otherwise immediately withdrawn) to reveal a smoking spacecraft, damaged beyond repair, parts strewn everywhere.
Enter a Man in a bulky space suit, stumbling from the wreckage. He doffs his helmet, revealing his face.
Man: Hello? Mavis? Hello? Mavis?
Pause. He waits for an answer, hears none.
Man (Panicked): Mavis?!
(Offstage)Female voice: Here I am! Here I am!
Man (Who has not heard, or cannot hear the voice): Mavis! Answer me! Mavis!
He stumbles about, unsteady on his feet from the crash. He continues shouting, becoming more and more agitated. Mavis! MAVIS! MMMMAAAAAVVVIIIIISSSS!!!
(Offstage) Female Voice: I'm here! Here! Over here! He has still not heard, he breaks down and flops onto the ground, curling into a fetal position, sobbing.
A female figure enters. She is clad in a tight-fitting, low-cut outfit that enhances her already formidable beauty. Her hair comes down to her waist and is jet black.
Man (Never looks at her, does not see her): Oh, you're dead! Mavis, You're dead! Dead! Dead! Gone!
Woman: Disappeared. Vanished.
Man: Obliterated.
Woman: Invisible
Man: Enshrined in that Pyre of a ship!
Woman: Standing here before you.
Man: Sent off with the fanfare of a pagan king!
Woman: Ignored like a pagan housewife.
Man: Gone from my grasp my delicate love!
Woman: And inaudible too.
Man: Ripped, wretched, flung from the fragments of my raw and bleeding heart. My injured hands! Clutches knee. My wretched leg! She advances, standing tall directly behind his huddled form, while he writhes and curses on the ground, clutching his knee.
Sound of glass or fine china shattering.
Blackout.
Scene II
The WOMAN is alone on-stage, spotlighted, surrounded by darkness.
Woman: Here I am, floating in the midst of darkness while he drifts on, unaware of my being. I try to stand still so he can find me, but he turns every which way but my direction. All day long he shouts "Mavis! Mavis!" The crash has addled his brain, I think. I am Hyminitptra. (pronounced "high-men-ip(like "if")-tra (like "the")) Pause. The beautiful. The talented. The great. I should be queen of something, but there's no one to be king except him and whatever Mavis he dreams of. Offstage, the MAN begins to whistle like a bird. Stop that racket! The whistling continues, then the Man hums one long note. That's intolerable! The hum is joined by another hum at a lower octave. What the… A third hum, an octave higher than the first, starts. This is outrageous! Doesn't anyone get their own soliloquy anymore! Two more hummers join, forming a major chord. Go away! Go away! Go away! Woman begins pacing in small circles, spotlight follows her. Several more hums begin offstage, and the entire offstage ensemble begins to hum "Silent Night." That's not so bad. Actually, that's quite nice. The Woman sits down. I could sit here and enjoy this insanity as if it were the only thing in the world. Pause. That matters. Longer pause. The hummers finish "Silent Night." Immediately, the finale of the 1812 overture begins to play. The WOMAN leaps to her feet. Shut up! Shut up! Quiet! Peace! Silence! Give it a rest you pack of annoying jackalopes!
The overture ends.
Blackout.
Same crashing noise.
Scene III
A company of ten women, all beautiful, all clad in black pants, shirts, socks, etc. Over this each one wears a large, white T-shirt emblazoned with an "S." They carry musical instruments, mostly drums and various horns. One drags a small cannon on wheels. Their leader, the one dragging the cannon, is in front.
Leader: Halt!
All stop.
Leader: It is with great pride and displeasure that I commemorate this statue to Lorenzo de Medici, umpteenth ruler of Italy Incorporated and an inspiration to us all. In his four-month stint as a menace to society, Medici proved the modern theorem of mathematics that states that all numbers must not add up when accounted for. 'Lay, liar, lay liar,' the famous words attributed to him, were not unlike a Bob Dylan song and similar in address, for indeed Lorenzo was at that time dying of Laryngitis.
Follower: Laryngitis?
Leader: Of course Laryngitis! Don't you realize that all public speakers die out as soon as they lose their voices?
Follower: Of course!
Leader: After his Death, Lorenzo spent many years in his elected position bowing to the whims of fish. Today we mark his statue in the valley of clay.
Followers. Today we mark his statue in the valley of clay.
Leader: We mark your sacrifice of your life to the service of the bigger, and while you neglected the smaller and more numerous we thank you anyway, for our collection was incomplete. Strike up the fanfare, ladies!
They mime playing their instruments while the 1812 overture plays, starting just before the finale. Upon each cannon blast, the LEADER viciously yanks a long cord attached to the base of her cannon, which is pointed offstage right. The WOMAN enters, ducking and screaming, from offstage right.
Woman: We're under attack by jove, crickey and molotov! I've been a good girl and will gladly drink to it if only someone would stop this infernal racket!
Leader: Halt! The FOLLOWERS stop playing. The WOMAN continues on her way across the stage, screaming. Why hast thou come, Woman, to this isle? The WOMAN ignores, her, continuing offstage. Explain to me how you come to be on this island where only men tread! Come back here and answer me! The LEADER sprints after the WOMAN, then doubles back, she has forgotten her cannon. The LEADER labors mightily to drag the cannon off stage, shouting questions at the long-gone WOMAN all the while.
The followers, unsure of what to do, drop their instruments and form a human pyramid with four on the bottom, three on top, and two more on top of them. They begin to cheer like cheerleaders at a football game.
Followers! Followers! Yayyyyyy Boom!
The cannon goes off. The Leader screams and falls prone onto the ground. The followers continue their chant.
Sing-ers,
we are Si-rens,
We can't Sing
But we try.
We play our
Trom-bones with
Grace and a lie!
They cheer, and collapse the pyramid. They jog in a small circle.
Leader: You stupid idiots!
Follower 1: Morons!
Follower 2: Freaks!
Follower 3: Buffoons!
Leader: We swore we would never do that again!
Follower 1: But we practiced!
Leader: Quiet!
Follower 1: Silence! Followers continue jogging.
Follower 2: Stillness!
Follower 3: Death!
Follower 1: Decay!
Follower 2: Orthodontia!
Follower 3: Tongues!
Follower 1: Languages!
Follower 2: Words!
Follower 3: Writing!
Follower 1: Literature!
Follower 2: Study!
Follower 3: Asceticism!
Follower 1: Quiet!
Leader: No! She rushes in and breaks up the circle. Never pollute our foul island with this nonsense! We want only good clean insanity! Insanity for the whole family! Family Lorenzo de Medici would have enjoyed! Let us play Lorenzo Rex! Lorenzo Rex, for the last man to crash upon our foul island!
They grab their instruments, and play the finale of the 1812 overture.
Blackout.
Scene IV:
The WOMAN is onstage, spotlighted, surrounded by darkness.
Woman: I… The lights come on. Hey! The lights turn off. That's The spotlight turns off. Now just a! The lights turn on. What… The lights turn off. Huh? The spotlight returns.
Oh forget it! She exits.
Blackout.
Enter MAN. He is now clad in torn rags.
Man: Mavis! Mavis! Enter LEADER.
Leader: Here I am! Man stares in blank amazement. He cups his hands over his eyes, then removes them slowly.
Man: Mavis, what's the status of the ship!
Leader: What? Come here, here I am! Enter WOMAN.
Woman: No wait, here I am! Man rushes towards LEADER with arms open, as if expecting a hug. He circles around her three times, then returns to his original position. WOMAN, incensed by this, runs up behind the MAN and hits him on the head.
Blackout.
Sound of glass shattering.
Sound of cannon firing.
A massive, earsplitting crash.
SceneV
The MAN, stage center, the WOMAN, stage right, and the LEADER, stage left, are all spotlighted. Everything else is dark.
Leader: Here spot! She whistles as if calling a dog.
Woman: Come here! Come here! She opens her arms to him. He stares straight ahead.
Leader: Come here! Here, boy! Here, man!
Woman: Trying to entice him, sultry. Come here, big boy. I've got something for you. Something… special.
The man continues staring straight out at the audience.
Leader: I have food!
Woman: Sees this change in tactics, reacts. I have more food! Come and have my food!
Man: LIES! Roars, then continues looking straight out at the audience.
Leader: My food is better!
Woman: My food is even better!
Leader: Desperately. My food will answer every question you have, it contains ultimate knowledge!
Woman: Just as desperately. My food carries ultimate power as well!
Man: Just as loudly as before. LIES!
Leader: You will die without food!
Woman: You will die without me and my food!
Man: True!
Leader: He comes with me!
Woman: He comes with me!
Man: False!
Leader: What?
Woman: What?
Man: Questions!
Leader: Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral?
Woman: Can it be seen from here?
Man: No and yes!
Leader: Perplexed. No and yes?
Woman: Just as confused. Or yes and no?
Man: Either! None! Neither! Both!
Leader: Which is it?
Woman: Tell me, please!
Man: Philosophy! No one may say exactly what is certain. Physics! Limited by Heisenberg and quantum theory. Chemistry! Limited by ideal gases! Biology! Limited by theory and chemistry and physics! Space! Limited by time! Time! Limited by space! Matter! Limited by space and time! Nature! Limited by Biology! Man! Limited by everything! Mind! Limited by its own conceptions! Body! Limited to conception! Civilization! Conceptual! Mavis! Limited by absence of limitations!
Leader: Mavis?
Woman: Mavis!
Leader: Are you Mavis?
Woman: I wish he knew. Are you?
Leader: Thank heavens, no! Would you like some tea?
Woman: Yes, please.
Leader: One lump or two?
Woman: Better make it three. The three main Followers cross the stage spotlighted, from right to left.
Follower 1: Bing!
Follower 2: Bang!
Follower 3: Bong!
They exit and re-cross the stage.
Follower 1: Bong!
Follower 2: Bang!
Follower 3: Bing!
Man: I wish I had my hat. As it is, I have only my sword. And my words.
Leader: What's he after?
Woman: What does he want?
Leader: Why is he here?
Woman: Where is here?
Leader: The island of failed Sirens.
Woman: The island of lost souls.
Leader: Not so much souls as delinquents.
Woman: Lost delinquents.
Leader: It sounds like you're missing a cheese or a fine wine.
Woman: He is a cheese or a fine wine, and I haven't acquired the taste for him yet. Or he hasn't acquired one for me.
Leader: He can't hear our song.
Woman: He can't see me.
Man: Mavis! He turns abruptly, runs to the very back of the stage, then sprints off.
Leader: Damn these philosophers! I'm hungry!
Woman: Damn these whackos! I'm supposed to be married! Pause. This is your fault, you realize.
Leader: MY fault?
Woman: What else but your stupid cannon could have brought down our ship?
Leader: Don't blame the faults of your ship on my cannon! My cannon is a big and beautiful metal casing! The noise it makes should please every god who hears it!
Woman: It's annoying. No wonder you said you were failed sirens.
Man: (Offstage) MMMMAAAAAVVVVVVIIIIISSSSSSSS!
Woman: I wish he would shut up and settle down.
Leader: I'm getting hungry!
They exit.
Blackout.
End of Act I