ACT 2

SCENE: A crowded Crashdown café. Alien décor everywhere. MR. HARDING discovered seated pensively, surrounded by the students.


No. 15: OPENING CHORUS AND SOLO--Students and Maria
Students:
Oh, bring us more to eat,
We crave some Saturn Rings;
We are not yet replete
With tasty, tempting things.
A Trekkie special or
Green Martian Shake would suit,
Sigourney Weaver burgers
And some fries to boot!

Enter MARIA, wearing a blue-green uniform with silver alien-head apron and antennae headband.

SOLO--Maria:
It's time for the Crashdown to close,
Been on my feet all day.
The life of a waitress sure blows;
Wish folks would go away.
Why is Mr. Harding here,
In such a lousy mood?
The reason's really unclear--
It sure can't be for the food!
It's time for the Crashdown to close;
The life of a waitress sure blows!


MICHAEL enters.

Maria: Oh, Michael, can't you do something about Mr. Harding? He won't leave, and it's getting really annoying. And he's a lousy tipper, too.

Michael: I'll give it a shot, Maria. But what the hell's his problem, anyway?

Mr. Harding: What's my problem? To escape from the aliens' clutches, I told them I was prone to ulcers, and, God help me, I'm not. I'm perfectly healthy! I come here to this kitschy dive in the hope that copious amounts of greasy diner food will do the work that good health cannot, and at the very least give me a mild case of heartburn.

Michael: Uh, right. You might want to try chugging down a couple bottles of Tabasco, then. I like it, and I don't think it'll actually kill you.

Mr. Harding: Michael, this café serves a number of semi-edible concoctions that should do admirably. I don't know which to have, but I do know which I've had, and I hate to think that someone of refined epicurean taste (if I may so describe myself) should be forced to submit to such cholesterol-ridden, artery-clogging, plebeian comestibles, all to redeem my fraudulent tongue.

Michael: Just chill, okay? If you hadn't lied, Max would've never given in, and they would've abducted everybody.

Mr. Harding: Thank you, but that's of no help. I tell you, Michael, I feel so badly about the lie I told your rather easily-deluded alien friends that I would go to their tender-hearted king right now and tell the truth, if I didn't think that the consequences would be most disastrous to myself. Are you certain they won't attempt to invade our peaceful little town?

Michael: Invade this tourist trap? You gotta be kidding. Just finish up so we can close up, will you? Then Maria and I can hook up for a little one-on-one.

Mr. Harding: And their camp is well-hidden?

Michael: Yeah, as good as it can be. It's a big desert. Besides, nobody really expects real aliens in Roswell, right?


No. 16: RECITATIVE--Mr. Harding and Michael
Mr. Harding:
No, Michael, you must all be on the lookout.
Beware those paranoiac governmentals,
The Fed'ral Bureau of Investigation.

Michael: Oh shit, they're here!


Enter FBI AGENTS, marching in single file. They form in line, facing audience.

No. 17: QUARTET WITH CHORUS--Pierce, Maria, Liz, Mr. Harding, FBI Agents and Students
Pierce: When the government does call,
FBI Agents: We're FBI! We're FBI!
Pierce: An invasion to forestall,
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: Then the patriotic move
FBI Agents: We're FBI! We're FBI!
Pierce: Is to get into the groove.
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: For when hunting UFOs,
FBI Agents: We're FBI! We're FBI!
Pierce: And you face one, nose to nose,
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: There is just one thing to do;
You must shout, with much ado:
We're FBI-ay-ay--We're FBI!

FBI Agents: We're FBI-ay-ay--We're FBI!

Maria:
So my boyfriend isn't human,
And he needs to learn some groomin';
That's no reason for presumin'
He deserves to be put down!
He's my boyfriend, not some hellion.
Go, or every West Roswellian
Will join in on the rebellion.
Go away, get out of town!

Students: Go away, get out of town!

Pierce: Though your simple-minded threat
FBI Agents: We're FBI! We're FBI!
Pierce: Might leave weak men wringing wet,
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: Such expressions won't succeed;
FBI Agents: We're FBI! We're FBI!
Pierce: We are far too strongly-kneed,
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: And we come with the intent
To exterminate the gent,
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Pierce: Still, your simple-minded threat
Might leave weak men wringing wet.
FBI Agents: We're FBI, we're FBI, we're FBI!

Liz: Go forget this wild fixation.
Planetary deviation
Is a total fabrication--
UFOs do not exist!

Students: For your notion's really foolish,
And your attitude quite mulish,
Your opinions kinda toolish,
And we're getting pretty pissed.

Pierce: We observe a subtle lack
In your coy counterattack,
And a surety that's false,
Full of sentimental schmaltz.
Still, perhaps we'll let it slide
Till we find his spaceship ride
Since your simple-minded threat
Might leave weak men wringing wet.

FBI Agents: Yes, your simple-minded threat
Might leave weak men wringing wet.
Simple threat, wringing wet;
Simple threat, oh, wringing wet.

ENSEMBLE:
Chorus of all but FBI Agents:
Go forget this wild fixation.
Planetary deviation
Is a total fabrication--
UFOs do not exist!
For your notion's really foolish,
And your attitude quite mulish,
Your opinions kinda toolish,
And we're getting pretty pissed.

Go away, 'cause UFOs do not exist!
Go away, 'cause UFOs do not exist!
Planetary deviation
Is a total fabrication--
UFOs do not exist!

Chorus of FBI Agents:
When the government does call,
We're FBI! We're FBI!
An invasion to forestall,
We're FBI!
Then the patriotic move
We're FBI! We're FBI!
Is to get into the groove.
We're FBI!
For when hunting UFOs,
We're FBI! We're FBI!
And you face one, nose to nose,
We're FBI!
There is just one thing to do;
You must shout with much ado:
You're FBI-ay-ay-ay-ay!


Mr. Harding: Desist, desist!
FBI Agents (without moving): Yes, yes, we know.
Mr. Harding: They're getting pissed.
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Mr. Harding: Then don't resist.
FBI Agents: We're FBI!
Mr. Harding: Then why persist?
FBI Agents: Because we know.
All: We'll (They'll) find the UFO!
Mr. Harding: You'll get the heave-ho!
All: We (They) know, we (they) know!
We'll (They'll) find the UFO!
Mr. Harding: Would you get out of here already?!?
FBI Agents: We go!
All: At last they really go!

(Exuent FBI Agents. MARIA tears herself from MICHAEL and exits, followed by her fellow students, consoling her. MR. HARDING and others follow. MICHAEL remains.)


TBC...