Capitola Seven
Andrea and Francine were busy trying to pacify Carl.
"How could you?" Carl wailed. "How could you replace me!"
"We didn't have a choice!" Andrea wailed back. "I'd rather have you back than what's-her-name."
"It's Christopher," Francine told him. She was busy reading a letter sealed with a wax stamp.
"Odd name for a girl," Andrea remarked.
"Christopher's a man, Andrea."
"That so? Are you sure?"
"Yes. Have you gotten a note like this?" Francine brandished the letter.
"No, and I checked my mail every day last week."
"Really?" Francine asked. "because I found this in my coat pocket." She handed a letter similar to hers to Andrea.
"Oh, yeeeeeeaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh," Andrea said. "I borrowed your coat to meet some guys I met at a bar."
Francine swelled up. "You took my coat to meet guys? How dare you! Get your own coat!"
"I can't!" Andrea whined. "It caught on fire."
"Gah, let's just get back to the notes. Mine tells me to 'Get the hell out of my Ballet.'"
"Mine says…" Andrea said, skimming her note for a command, "Ah, here we are. 'Get your fat ass out of my friggin' box. I told you to leave it empty, dammit.'"
"Can we get back to me?" Carl whined. "I thought you wanted me back, but you care more about notes than me." He began to sob loudly.
Your fans need you
The world needs you
Would you not rather have your ridiculous Christopher?
Signor, never. We want you
Major Domo, first man on the stage
Please sing again
We're even willing to beg
Can you not bow to their cheering applause
Think of how they cheer for you
Major Domo
You must sing again
The music pines
And the words die without you
How can you deny us your dancing
Dance, Major Domo again
Major Domo,
I'll dance, I'll dance again
I'll dance to cheers
When I appears
On that stage
"You can't use 'appears' that way," Francine said.
"Shut up," Carl snapped. "Let me finish."
Think of their hands
Which they'll beat into pulp
Trying to clap hardest for me
Major Domo,
My dance will never pass
I'll dance again
And the applause won't end
Think how I'll shine
Next to slobs like you
I dance Major Domo again
Who'd belive a patron
Desperate to have an dancer
Rowina and that snot
We know they were together
It'd be a great story in a play
But plays are boring
Come see the Ballet
At 52 Via dell Artista's
Major Domo
We are are the ground
The world is waiting
And hows it's hating Christopher
Brighten the stage with that decage old bond
Dance Major Domo again!