I recall saying that I would add auditions if I ever worked out how they would go, and I have something on the page finally. Here you go. Other chapters have been edited for the changes, but the difference isn't too great. Standard disclaimer applies.
Ch. 3 Tryouts
Flashback to the day of tryouts:
Alice had convinced the residents of Clover Tower to lend her two rooms for the day of tryouts and it was in the audition room where Alice now sat, staring at the list of people trying out. She was surprised to see every single Role Holder's name on the list, even Julius, the workaholic.
There was a microphone connected to the room where the participants waited, and Alice spoke into it now. "Will Participant #1 come to the stage?"
In stepped Julius, who strode up on stage quickly and calmly, and began to recite: "To be or not to be…" and finished reciting Hamlet's most famous soliloquy. Alice had a small smile on her face as she said, "Thank you. I'll let you know the results tomorrow."
He got off the stage and left immediately to work on his clocks.
"Participant #2." Out came Gowland, who bounded noisily on the stage and immediately whipped out a too-small violin.
"I prepared a small piece just for this," he announced, and before Alice could ever open her mouth to stop him, the murder of a thousand kittens and 13 eardrums began.
Alice screamed at Gowland to stop, and when he finally did she exclaimed, "Thank you! That will be enough! We'll let you know!"
"But I'm not done yet."
"And while the suspense will kill me, I really have to get to everyone else by the end of the day." She waved at him and, slightly dejected, Gowland left the room.
"Participant #3," she spoke into the microphone, messaging her temple.
"And 4!" came two voices from the door, and Dee and Dum stepped onto the stage, both in black and arm in arm. If it wasn't for the eye colors Alice could not have distinguished them.
"You ready, onee-san?"
"Whenever you are."
The twins shared a twisted grin. Alice immediately got nervous.
"Are you really ready?"
"…Ye…s…?"
"Alright," Dee muttered. "In 3…2…1…"
The door burst open and in stormed a very displeased Elliot March, hair everywhere, ears twitching in fury, wearing, of all things, a pink fluffy bunny suit.
"I'M GONNA KILL YOU LITTLE MONSTERS!"
"Oi, brother! Let us observe the wild and rare 6-foot RABBIT in an unnatural environment."
"Why, you—!" Elliot turned his back on Alice and she saw a hood with two fluffy pink ears peaking out at the top, and burst out laughing.
Dum and Dee leapt of the stage, poor Australian accents commenting, "It seems we have angered the beast! Now, let us observe its defensive methods—" they ducked down as two shots rang out above their heads.
"Hey! Elliot, don't kill them! It was only a joke!"
"Alice?" Elliot said, turning beet red when he finally noticed she was there.
"The pink monstrosity has spotted a potential mate! We may have the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to observe it in 'pervert mode'."
The twins stopped and looked at each other a moment. "Get away from onee-san, pervert rabbit!"
"For the last time, you brats, I AM NOT A RABBIT!"
"Really?" Dum said, smiling evilly.
"Cause ya coulda fooled us," Dee replied, his smile a perfect copy of his brother's.
The door clicked and swung open, and in stepped Blood, who stopped and took in the scene before him. His eyes stopped on Elliot.
"Nice costume. Though I can't say that pink is your color."
Elliot turned a more violent shade of purple and pointed angrily at the twins. "THEY did this to me!"
"I surmised as much," Blood said coolly. He saw Alice and said, "Ah, hello. I'm sorry to say that we will be leaving now. Just pick us a role, if you won't mind." Blood smiled, grabbed the twins by the ears and pulled them away, Elliot following behind, fuming.
Alice stared at nothing for some time before remembering why she was there. She looked down at her list and crossed off the twins, Elliot and Blood's names.
"Um…#7?"
Boris came in the door and immediately noticed the bullet holes in the wall. "Well, I was wondering what the hare was going to do." He bounded up on the stage and stood there.
"Do I just start?"
"Pretty much." Alice was out of shock and back to normal.
"Yo! Pierce, get in here!"
When did Boris get a Brooklyn accent?
The door opened and Pierce timidly walked in, cheese crumbles on the side of his face. He looked terrified as he stepped up on stage. Boris, however, grinned rather widely and put an arm around Pierce as he entered center stage. Pierce squeaked in terror.
A very bad feeling began to creep into Alice's heart.
"Say, Mousy."
"Y-y-y-y-yes?" squeaked poor Pierce.
"Why are German politicians so thin?"
"…I don't know."
"Because when they go to work, they go on a Diet!"
"Um…ha ha?"
Boris began to pull on Pierce's ears. "What was that? Did you not enjoy my fabulous joke?"
Pierce laughed rather pathetically, sounding more like he was in pain than in merriment.
"Okay! I think we're good. Thank you," Alice said, and Boris chased Pierce out of the room.
Alice rubbed her temples and called the next tryout to the stage. In walked Vivaldi, who recited a brief and slightly gruesome poem from memory before walking out. So far it was only the second audition to go remotely well.
Next up was Peter, who was holding a sheet of paper in his hands as he walked up to the stage and had a wilting flower sticking out of his jacket pocket.
Clearing his throat a few times, he smiled at Alice before reading from the paper.
"Roses are red.
Violets are blue.
To my dearest Alice,
How I love you.
Your eyes teal blue,
Your hair silk brown,
I miss you a lot
When you're not around."
Peter was about to go on when the exit door burst open and Ace announced jovially, "I'm here!"
Peter and Alice stared, dumbfounded at Ace, whose smile never wavered as he looked around. "Huh? Where is everyone?"
"The waiting room is through that door," Peter said sharply. "Now, if you could leave, I need to finish my audition before I kill you." He cleared his throat to begin again.
"No can do, the Bitch of Hearts wants to see you."
"The Queen can wait."
Ace walked up and grabbed Peter's arm, smile widening slightly. "Sorry. She's not waiting. Besides, and I'm no expert, of course, but your prose could use a little work." He looked over and waved at Alice. "Bye! Just pick me a cool role, k?" and he dragged a sputtering, angry Prime Minister through the door to the audition room.
Alice called in the next person, not even trying to process what had just happened. In walked Grey.
"Before I begin…"
"What?"
"Boss told me to let you know that he's not coming and is not feeling well, but would still like to participate."
Alice sighed. "One of these days I'm going to make good on my threat to send that demon to a hospital."
Grey smiled slightly at that. "I'd like to see that."
Grey was, of course, fully and properly prepared and gave a short monologue that left a little smile on Alice's face.
After his audition Grey was kind enough to help Alice put away the chairs and break down the audition space.
"I'll get the trash if you can take care of the papers," Alice offered, and Grey left. Alice took the small bag and went downstairs to the base of Clover Tower, to be met with a very interesting and distressing sight.
Boris, Gowland, Pierce, Ace and Peter were standing on the lawn in front of the Tower, yelling and screaming at each other, guns out and bullets flying. Amazingly no one was hurt yet.
"What in the name of sense are you guys doing?" Alice cried out, and all turned to see her standing there with the bag of trash, staring.
"Alice, let me help you with that!" came five simultaneous voices and a mad scramble to reach Alice first. This resulted in a dog-pile with Alice on bottom, struggling to breath and wriggle her way of this mess.
"Hey, watch where you're touching!"
"EXCUSE ME!"
"That's not my gun."
"Squeak!"
"My violins!"
Alice screamed at all of them to leave, and reluctantly they parted their separate ways, leaving Alice to walk upstairs and ask Julius the question:
"How do I get 13 people who hate each other to put on a play?"
RIP Steve Irwin. Apologies to any German readers, it's not meant to offend anyone (though I'm not sure how it would). A purposefully bad joke is a purposefully bad joke.