signsfive – The Beginning
(The curtain opens to the new MESSIAH nee ARMADILLO, nee ONE, positioned or more properly strewn in the end position of act three, still unmoved and unmoving. The JANITOR enters whistling, dragging a mop and bucket to dispose of the big brown mess made by the previous act tragic bus accident. Exactly 60 seconds after JAN being mopping MES slowly staggers up in a momentous rising.)
MES:
And you my father, standing there on the sad heights,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light
MES:(Sagging.) No, that wasn’t me.
(The stage is silent except for the whistling of the JAN. MES tentatively approaches the musically inclined custodial engineer in an awkward attempt at friendship.)
MES: You’re probably wondering how I got to be the MESSIAH.
(JAN is silent now.)
MES: I won it…on a game show. Have we met before?
JAN: I get around. Ju-Ju Bee? You know what must be done. Cleanliness is next to godliness.
(There is a long pause as JAN continues mopping. The fog from the last act still completely encompasses the stage.)
MES: I had a dream.
JAN: Do you know who I am? (MES falls at JAN’s feet.) Get up. There is no need of that. We are ONE. You made quite a mess of things. It was most dangerous. My mopping had to be most meticulous.
MES: (Arising.) What about that spot over there?
JAN: There is no spot there. If there was I would not be who I am my fair progeny. The world is in a terrible place. Only a few will be saved. You will lead the annihilation.
MES: I had a dream.
JAN: And a very messy one at that. The reality will be even more messy.
(As JAN continues mopping, a GOLDFISH enters with a huge stack of papers under one fine and pushing a cart with a life-sized mannequin wearing a beret and a sign reading “WELCOME TO HEAVEN” in large nondescript print and a giant portrait of Elvis under the other fin. The entrance seems to be just another part of the constant whirlwind pacing of the fish.)
GOL: oh my oh my oh me oh my…
(GOL runs the cart straight into MES. GOL’s papers scatter wildly. Both MES and GOL frantically scramble to reorganize the pile amid a confused exchange of ad-libbed platitudes.)
GOL: Who are you?
MES: I am the MESSIAH.
GOL: Is that so? Well, in that case, it’s a good thing you ran into me. I have some forms for you to fill out. It’s just a formality.
(GOL produces a large number of forms.)
MES: What is all this?
GOL: It simply says you accept all responsibility for incidental damages or accidental deaths resulting from this play. Please return them signed at your earliest possible convenience. I am very busy. It is cold and flu season.
MES: I’m not going to sign this.
GOL: But you have to. It’s in the script.
(Exit GOL)
MES: It’s all so clear now! I’ve been used. I’ve been used! My every action has been carefully manipulated in this debacle and I know who is responsible. I had no control over any of this and now that the reckoning comes I have to be the scapegoat. (To the authors.) It’s all your fault!
AUTHOR DAVE: I suppose you are wondering who we are.
MES: I know who you are.
(The authors shuffle and hastily confer.)
AD: I suppose you know who we are. I have a prepared statement.
(AUTHOR MIKE hold up a sign reading “Prepared Statement” as COMPOSER LEO begins a harmonic accompaniment.)
AD: “We the authors and musical director of this play in order to more effectively assert our authority as well as to avert crippling boredom present before you signs bountiful in examination of the sweet mysteries of life. Again and again we have asked ourselves, each other and also strangers we didn’t like these questions for it has occurred to us that the real answer lives in the spirit although it is often addressed elsewhere. Love and kisses but Ethel is pushing up roses so please sign the forms.”
(Thunder rumbles through the theater)
MES: That makes no sense.
AM: Do you think it is easy to write a play? Sign the forms. It’s in the script.
MES: You put me where I am. You planned the whole thing. Now I know what it means. I’ve finally figured it out. You’re talking about the end of the world. I will never agree to that. I will not be responsible for the end of the world. This is all… it is all your fault.
(The authors hastily shuffle and confer.)
AM: If you don’t sign we will have to take away Pierre.
MES: Who is Pierre?
AM: You don’t know your own mute clown apostle?
MES: I don’t have any apostles.
(Enter #1D who goes to the mannequin in the cart left previously by GOL and embraces him joyously)
#1D: Pierre! I’ve been looking all over for you.
MES: I am the MESSIAH! Why would I want a stuffed mute clown as an apostle?
(The authors hastily shuffle and confer.)
AD: Because it is in your character description.
AM: Now will you sign these forms?
(An immense roar rips through the theater. MES starts to walk off the front of the stage and out toward the back of the house. A giant fish screams in confusion; a reporter finds Elvis in the guise of OUTRAGEOUS FORTUNE. The chorus is possessed not by a force but by an absence. The DIRECTOR tries to assert control as their assistant scribbles madly hoping to surrender the meaning. The authors do not regain their composer. The NUMBER ONE DIER is possessed of Pierre, the mute clown. MEPH is proud, if only by proxy.)
OF: I am Outrageous Fortune. I am the end.
(Houselights up. The cast wanders off.)
(Curtain.)
(Return to Act One and repeat.)
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