Of Epic Proportions
Warnings: two-part episode. Alcohol, disco, and Trouble - and that starts with T and that rhymes with P and that stands for Pool!
Unknowing of the danger that awaits, Barbara Strozzi has expressed an interest in joining in the card game subculture of the house. If there isn't a couple of people playing chess, there's usually at least two or three playing some sort of card game in the kitchen or den. It seems like a pleasant and enjoyable passtime. Little does Strozzi know of the intense rivalries, betting, and general blood letting that accompany a good game of gin rummy or bridge.
Having discovered that Strozzi is already good at spades, Tchaikovsky suggests she learn bridge. He, Mussorgky, and Schumann are now sitting about the kitchen table trying to teach her as they play through a few rounds. The partner pairs are Schumann and Strozzi, and the two Russians. They are in the midst of bidding...
Mussorgsky(sits back, pondering his cards): uh... pass. (Tchaikovsky shrugs)
Schumann(triumphantly): TWO notrump!
Strozzi: Wait, what does that mean again?
Mussorgsky(lazily): means his hand was too strongto bid one notrump the first time so he has 18-20 points, no singletons and no morethan one doubleton
Schumann(archly raises an eyebrow at Mussorgsky): Oh, is that so, my dear Modest?
Mussorgsky(takes a sip of his drink): well thats what its supposedto mean...
Strozzi: ....what does Robert think it means??
Tchaik(shakes head): I warned you - its not a good idea to be on his team when you're just learning.. he has his own system of bidding.
Schumann: What is the point of speaking in codes, sir, if everyone understands them?? One must create his own codes!
Strozzi: But what's the point of speaking in codes if no one understands them?
Schumann(like a commercial): Hannes knows.
Strozzi: I'm not Johannes!
(Enter Brahms)
Brahms: I heard my name.
Schumann: Good, Young Eagle, interpret for her! (gestures to Strozzi; Brahms strolls over and observes her cards)
Mussorgsky: just bid Normally!
Strozzi: Ok, so he opened with one diamond. Pyotr passed. I bid one heart. Modest passed. Now he bids two notrump.
Brahms: (vague recognition): ohhhh, yeah... that means he has at least seven diamonds--
Schumann: CORRECT-
Mussorgsky: What! why didnt he rebid in diamonds?
Brahms: AND - and he also has at least 18 points, is suggesting slam in diamonds and asking if you have any void suits.
Strozzi(completely bewildered): what?!
Mussorgsky(offended): thats not what notrump--
Brahms(pointing at her cards) but you don't have any void suits, so you bid three clubs. If you did have one, you'd bid three diamonds.
Tchaik: that makes no sense!
Mussorgsky(still offended): you cant bid slam you dont know if she has enough power-
(Enter Wagner)
Wagner: What is all this ruckus? (spies the scene at the table) Oh, Barbara, you'd better not attempt bridge with this band of hooligans. That most holy and profound of card games is only bastardized by the Madman, the Drunkard, and (pauses at the uncharacteristically threatening glower from Tchaikovsky) and Pyotr, who despite his best efforts, cannot count to 13 to spare his soul.
(This of course causes a general outburst.)
Tchaik: That doesn't impair my ability to TEACH the game - I understand completely all the principles and play --
Mussorgsky(grumbles): not drunk.. still betterthan you in either scenario
Schumann: 'Tis only madness to those who don't understand!
Brahms: You're just angry because Robert and I beat you and Franz every time!
Wagner(to Brahms): You only win when and Because you cheat!
Strozzi(head in hands in defensive anticipation of anything that may be chucked across the room): Guys! Its just a game...!
Brahms: We don't cheat. We just have a more complex system of bidding than you-
Wagner: Playing with codes understood only by you and your partner is the very definition of cheating in civilized societies!
Tchaik: That IS cheating.
Mussorgsky(at Wagner): Nah you lose because Franz screws up the play everytime he doesnt understand basic stretegy-
Wagner: Cheating!
Strozzi: GUYS! (they all stop) Why don't we play something... less violent. Like rummy?
Tchaik(to Wagner): Yes, Richard, you owe me a game. I demanded a rematch from that last one, if you will recall.
Wagner: I do indeed, but I considered it a show of mercy not to take you up on that rematch. You're only bound to fall again.
(Tchaik jumps angrily from his seat and grabs the chair next to Wagner. He points to it and addresses Wagner as if he were some sort of deliberately disobedient dog)
Tchaik: SIT!
Wagner: ... I'm not in the mood for rummy now. (walks out)
Tchaik: He is avoiding me!
Mussorgsky(pushes his glass at Tchaikovsky) here have a drink. hes avoiding you because he knows youll beathim (Tchaikovsky sits, appeased) lets finish this game. Robert you bid normal bridge bids so you dont confuse Barbara. Johannes you can stay and help Barbara.
The game continues peacefully for a few rounds - until Liszt shows up in the kitchen doorway. He folds his arms and leans against the frame, the very picture of superior disapproval. The card players are in the middle of a round, and since Schumann has declared, Strozzi's cards are flat on the table and she and Brahms are sitting behind Schumann watching him play the hand. Tchaikovsky notices Liszt first, since no one else is remotely facing the doorway..
Tchaik: You can come in, Franz. (the others turn with varying expressions of suspicion. Liszt moves next to Mussorgsky, puts his palm on the table, leans in ominously, and stares down his sharp nose at the Russian)
Liszt: My dear Modest.....
Mussorgsky(pushes cards to chest): im beginning not to like when people call me that..
Liszt: I was just informed that earlier today you insulted my honor by saying I can't play bridge.
Mussorgsky: ah.... i didntsay that.
Liszt: That's not--
Mussorgsky: i said you dont understand basic strategy..
Liszt(smarmy politeness): Excuse me, I shall rephrase. You insulted my honor by saying I don't understand basic strategy, thereby implying that I can't play bridge.
Mussorgsky: well i dont duel you know
Liszt: I haven't challenged you to a duel
Tchaik: Go, Modest, it's your play.
Mussorgsky(looks over Liszt's arm at the trick on the table): uh.. whats trump?
Schumann(as if personally insulted): What! the fool isn't out of spades - he has the Six!
Mussorgsky(inspects his hand): oh so i do..
Tchaik(sighs): X-ray vision!!
Liszt: Modest.
Mussorgsky: hm?
Liszt: I challenge you to a game of bridge! Richard supports me in my quest for restored honor. We demand a match this very evening. You and the partner of your choice.
Mussorgsky: i dont know.. Kojaks on tonight....
Liszt: TONIGHT!
(Mussorgsky looks around the table - Tchaikovsky seems especially hopeful)
Mussorgsky: Pyotr, you cant count.
Tchaikovsky: It's not that important
Mussorgsky: yes it is. (directs attention to the other three)
Strozzi: Don't look at me - I'm too new at this.
(Brahms appears especially interested in the floor, although Schumann is looking back at Mussorgsky with the crazed anticipation of a 5th grader about to witness his science fair volcano erupt for the first time.)
Mussorgsky: uh... (clears throat) i believe Charles is good at counting...
Liszt: Fine. You and Charles. Tonight. 8pm. KITCHEN TABLE.
When the game breaks up, news of the upcoming bridge battle quickly spreads through the house. In the newly-carpeted basement, Mozart has opened another betting pool and is trying to sell tickets to the match.
Mozart(perched on pool table): You know there's not enough seating in there for everybody--
Hildegard: I'm not paying money to sit in my own kitchen!!
Zacara: ahahah - what gives you jurisdiction over the kitchen anyway, Wolfy?
Hildegard: It's not as if you're ever in there!
Mozart(grins): I thought of it...
Mid afternoon, Beethoven is trying to compose at the piano. Enter Brahms, pouting.
Brahms: (sits on sofa)
Beethoven(stops): ... hm?
Brahms: I have composer's block.
Beethoven: Oh. For a minute I thought this was about me avoiding you all day yesterday.
Brahms: yeah, now that you mention it! (hops up again)
Beethoven: well are you going to apologize?
Brahms(completely sincere): For what?
Beethoven: For being a jerk!
Brahms: I just tried to give you friendly advice!
Beethoven: "friendly advice"? what's that - "women are worthless"? this is not advice!
Brahms: You dont seem to understand-
Beethoven: What! Stubborn fool!
(Enter Mozart)
Mozart: Oohhh, name calling!
Both: Go away!
Mozart(sits immediately on arm of sofa): still arguing about women, eh?
Brahms: He won't recognize they are a problem.
Beethoven: You're the one with the problem!
Mozart: Gee, maybe we should get Hildegard in on this - surely she knows some psychological specialists to call in ... (Luckily for Mozart, the phone rings before Brahms can retort) Oh, I'll get it! (hops up) Perhaps it is Ludwig's lady friend--
Brahms: Perhaps it's that charming father of yours again..
Mozart(hand freezes inches about phone; it rings again): you know..... when you get the runs, you really gotta run! (turns, dashes out of room)
Brahms(heads for phone): Wellll, I guess I'll get it--
(But Beethoven has already gotten up as well - about halfway to the phone, both give up their pretences of lazy indifference and make an all-out dash for it. They arrive at the same time, each slamming a hand down on the phone )
Beethoven: I Got It.
Brahms: No..
Phone: (rings)
Beethoven(threatening growl): I said.. I got it. Go write a fugue!!
Brahms: grrrrr! (lets it go, storms out)
Beethoven(expression clears, answers politely): Hello?....(glowers).... Ah, yes, actually.. He's in the bathroom right now; let me get him...
(Beethoven returns in ten minutes, having searched the house and now forced to confess to an angry Leopold Mozart that no, he has no idea where Wolfgang is. He hangs up the phone and takes a deep breath.) Damn, should have let Johannes get it.
Elsewhere, Hildegard is trying to talk to Mussorgsky about the AA debacle, although he is currently in prep for the upcoming battle. He, Ives, and Tchaikovsky are in the TV room (QVC rambling in the background) discussing strategy.
Ives: Well, Richard is much easier to predict.
Tchaik: Because he always leads from the shortest suit in a trump game.
(Ives and Mussorgsky fall into ponderous silence; the TV continues and catches Tchaik's attention.)
TV: These Laura Borgheresi two-tone twist hoop earrings, 14 karat gold, are the perfect accessory fo-
Tchaik: Speaking of hoop earrings, what's the story with Robert's?
Ives: What? Robert has an earring?! What's the world coming to?
Tchaik: On his left ear, no less!
Ives: Wait, is that the.. er... ?
Tchaik: Yes.
Mussorgsky: i thought that was the right..
(Enter Hildegard; she pauses at the sight of their suspicious glances.)
Hildegard: Ah, nevermind. I'll come back later (exit)
Tchaik: It's definitely the left ear.
Mussorgsky: well you cant conclude anything from that
Ives: Are we talking strategy or not?
Tchaik: Ok, just mentioning.. no one knows?
Mussorgsky: something about Shakespeare.
Tchaik: ... is he into role playing??
Mussorgsky(shrug): wouldnt put it past him
Tchaik(intrigued): Who'd have thought???
Meanwhile, Zacara and Strozzi are playing pool. It's an ongoing battle of wits, as Strozzi is trying to uncover the secret of Zacara's work, while he's trying to figure out details of her romantic life.
Zacara: you know I was talking to Richard yesterday and he mentioned something about him owing you a date?
Strozzi: Oh... I think that had something to do with Wolfy's betting pool a while ago. But I suppose I've been distracted by all the goings-on lately. You'd think I had a regular job...
Zacara: Sometimes it's better to have a regular job, just for the sake of avoiding the goings-on.
Strozzi: Surely it's not that boring? What would lead you to the paint store in the middle of the day?
Zacara(chuckles): a long story.. you have to know the characters to appreciate it, though. Maybe if you'd come to lunch sometime you can meet them? Some of them are singers.
Strozzi: Ah, perhaps I'll have to come along then-
(There's a sudden coughing and commotion - Mozart comes tumbling out of the wet bar)
Mozart(checks watch): Yep. My dad's maximum on-hold period is twenty minutes. (holds up empty bottle) Besides, I ran out of schnapps.
Strozzi: If only your father knew you were hiding from him in a wet bar.
Mozart: He wouldn't be surprised. (beats himself in chest, lets out a mighty burp) ahhhh, look at this. (inspects pool table) You two have been too busy talking. (takes a cue stick from the wall near the sofa) Do allow me to clear up some of this mess..
Zacara: Step right up, o mighty Pool Guru.
Mozart: Ohhh-K. (lines up a shot, sinks it) You know.. (lines up next shot) we should all play Twister tonight...
Strozzi: aha, how much of that schnapps did you drink?
Hours later, Hildegard continues her plans to speak with Mussorgsky, but unfortunately he has gone missing again. She now wanders down the hall, glancing into kitchen, no... glancing into den. Tchaik is on the sofa with a music notebook. Bach reclines in one of the armchairs, presumably napping.
Hildegard: Hi Pyotr, have you seen Modest?
Tchaik: I think he's preparing for tonight's game. (scowls) without the rest of us.
Bach(opens an eye): Something about meditating... with vodka, of course.
Hildegard: Of course!... (phone rings) Hm, I'll get that. (heads for phone in kitchen. She is nearly knocked over by Beethoven, also running for phone from bathroom)
Beethoven: sorry--
Hildegard: What! YOU--(she hangs a sharp corner around kitchen wall and snatches the phone - Beethoven waits breathlessly) Hello? hem.. Hi. (frowns) Yes, he's here... I'm not sure where exactly.. (looks into hallway) May I ask who's calling? Right. (to Beethoven) Ludwig, go fetch Johannes. Some Heinrich Schenker's on the phone for him.
Beethoven(grumbles): so he should be taking all the calls today!
(Shortly Beethoven returns with Brahms, who takes the phone from Hildegard scowling)
Brahms: ... hello? (relief) Oh, Heinrich! Hi. (glares at Beethoven) I was told you were someone else.. (the answer is loud enough for all to hear "There's no way anyone could mistake me for someone else!!" Brahms smirks.) Yes, well. Did you need something? ....... uh.. I'm busy actually... and - (confused) what did you have in mind ?? (Hildegard and Beethoven wait in amusement, hovering in the doorway so that Brahms is trapped between them and the table)......oh well, you should have said so. I'm not opposed to that......... 6 o'clock....... (frowns) violin sonata? Ok. Fine...... Bye. (hangs up)
Hildegard: What is that all about?
Beethoven: Not Marissa.
Brahms: He wants to talk music theory. (the other two look unconvinced) What? He does.
Hildegard: Interesting. Wasn't this Schenker fellow that same one you spent most of your "date" with??
Brahms: I think it's more appropriate to say "kook I ran into at IHOP at 4am."
Hildegard(to Beethoven): "IHOP".... is that what they're calling it these days?
Beethoven(to Hildegard): Well, you know, women are so odious anyway....
Brahms: What -- It's not a date!!
Hildegard(patronizingly): Johannes, it's ok. We are not going to hold it against you. However, I do wish you would stop taking your anxieties out on the opposite sex.
Brahms: Not gay! (storms off - past Tchaikovsky who has come out of the den in curiosity)
Tchaik: What's going on?
Beethoven: (starts to laugh)
Hildegard: Johannes has a date.
Brahms(from back door): NOT A DATE!!! (slam)
Beethoven: Ahahah -- ohhhhh, see how he likes the nagging now!
Tchaik: What - a date with a guy?
Hildegard: (nods, smiling)
Tchaik: Ohhhhhhh... That explains a lot. (heads back to den, thinking aloud) I suppose Robert will be insulted..
Hildegard continues her search upstairs, where she finally finds Mussorgsky in his bedroom, sitting on his bed with a bottle of vodka.
Hildegard: Modest...?
Mussorgsky: .. not an alcoholic.
Hildegard: Can I talk to you for a bit?
Mussorgsky: (gestures at bed across from him)
Hildegard(sits; ponders what to say first - then it occurs to her): ... are you meditating??
Mussorgsky: planning tonights strategy
Hildegard: Isn't that difficult without the cards?
Mussorgsky: yeah well itsa difficult decision.. gotta figure out if im gonna bring the 150 proof rum orthe 151 proof vodka... think the rumll go down more easily
Hildegard: what?!
Mussorgsky: i know, itsa petty bit of deception but franz cant play anyway
Hildegard: Wait. Not only are you meditating about alcohol -- now you're plotting to get your opponents drunk too?!
Mussorgsky: im just putting it onthe table. If they want to drink irresponsibly thats their problem.
Hildegard: but - you are going to warn them how strong it is..?
Mussorgsky: That would be an offense to their sense of adulthood and responsibility they would feel obligated to drink justto prove their manhood. of course im gonna tellem
Hildegard(hands to head): Modest, you know better than that!
Mussorgsky(reflectively): yeah... youreright. vodka always wins the day.
Hildegard(muttering): ...divine spirit of God... give me strength...Modest, I have to apologize for ... taking such harsh measures this week. (now she has his attention) It was ..unwise of me to bring in outsiders. (he does not look sympathetic) But you know that all my actions were undertaken in the spirit of help. It's just... i think it's better for the household in general when you are more coherent--
Mussorgsky: Im always coherent... well, unless i start talking french
Hildegard: What - you speak French?
Mussorgsky(conversationally): doesnt everyone?
Hildegard(blinks): Modest, can you go one day without any alcohol?
Mussorgsky: ......yeah.. like you could go a day without brushing your teeth. Why would you do it?
Hildegard: They're completely different! Teeth brushing is not addictive, plus it's healthy! (sighs) no... that's not what I meant to say. I meant to say I'm concerned about your well-being. (he looks skeptical) I do - That is - I think if you went one week without alcohol, we'd all be able to get along - well - the withdrawal symptoms aside - I think you'd feel a lot better about the world and about you--(he is not paying attention) I'm babbling, aren't I?
Mussorgsky(looking into empty bottle): and im outta vodka..
Hildegard(jumps to her feet): Agh, I can't do this! (storms out)
Mussorgsky: (looks up, eyes narrow in suspicion)
Meanwhile in the downstairs coat closet, Beethoven sits hunched on a caved-in cardboard box. He is whispering into the phone.
Beethoven: No, my dearest - it's nothing like that.. just... you can't call here. it's the people I live with..........no, I'll get a cell phone - don't worry about it..... (his expression softens) Yes, of course... Tomorrow? ...... Tuesday then.... (suddenly the closet door flies open, and Beethoven is faced with the impish grin of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart)
Mozart: HAH!
(Beethoven is startled, tries to stand up and close the door, but he loses balance and falls back into the box, crushing it in further)
Mozart(impersonating an early film villain): MWAHAHAHAHAH (reaches for phone)
Beethoven(to phone): excuse me! attack -- goodbye, my love!! (hangs up as Mozart grabs phone)
Mozart: CURSES!
(Now that he is off the phone, Beethoven is free to let loose his Beethovenian rage -- he claws at the coats above him, trying frantically to pull himself up and catch Mozart.)
Beethoven: GRRR---
Mozart; Hahahahaha I wonder if star 69 will work?? (dances a jig in the hallway)
Beethoven: DAMN YOU! (pulls a coat off its hanger - nearly pokes his eye out) JESUS--
Mozart(stumbles into wall laughing): Ahhh ahahah ohhh lets see... STAR... (hits button) SIX-- ohhh shit i hit the seven.. hahaha (holds phone up to ear -- stops laughing, as he suddenly hears voices)
Liszt: Hm, and which of my esteemed housemates might that be? It sounds like Wolfgang -- (Liszt's head suddenly appears at the other end of the hall at the piano room; he glares at Mozart) HANG UP!!
Mozart: WHAT -- how'd you--
Beethoven(lunges from closet): ROOARR!!
Mozart: AGHHHHHH!! (drops phone, runs)
Later afternoon; no dinner has been organized, since half the household is preparing for the bridge game of doom at 8. Brahms has left for his "date" with Schenker at 6. Around 730, Wagner walks in the front door, waving his beret in his hand, lecturing on the Oedipal Complex to a rather bewildered Mahler.
Wagner: Oedipus and Jocasta did not offend human nature with their.. tryst, rather, they acted in the most human manner possible - relying only upon their natural instincts --
Bach(comes out of kitchen): Hi guys. Want any nachos? I'm just making some now.
Mahler: That would be fine.
Wagner(glances into TV room, finds it free): Come, let us sit in here and discuss the plans.
(Down the hall behind Bach, Barbara Strozzi glances out of the den.)
Hildegard: What are you looking at out there? I heard Richard - talking about Oedipus or something. That's a bad combination.
Strozzi(smiles): He's brought our neighbor home.
Hildegard: The storied cute one?
Strozzi: Yep. I'll have to make an appearance...
Hildegard: So will I...
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Bach is preparing nachos, and Mozart is making a new alcoholic fruit punch for the upcoming festivities. Enter Ives and Mussorsgky.
Ives: I see our opponents haven't arrived yet. They're obviously chicken.
Mussorgsky(looking over Mozart's shoulder): what are you puttingin there?
Mozart: Oh, nothing strong enough for you, Modest. This is not for the players anyway. It's for the rest of us. (grin)
Mussorgsky(pats gigantic bottle of vodka stored under his arm): thatsok i brought some for us.
Ives: Now that's a Man's drink!
Mussorgsky: yeh.. (they sit at the table across from each other)
Bach: Now you're playing against Franz and Richard, yes?
(enter Strozzi and Hildegard, who sets down a director's chair on one side of the table.)
Ives: Yes, but they're taking their merry old time to get here, I see.
Strozzi: You need Richard? I can go send him in.. (continues out)
Hildegard: I think Antonio is coming to watch the game . I dont know about anyone else.
Mozart: I have a much more comfortable chair than that, Hildegard. And for 9.99 it can be yours too!
Hildegard: If you want charity, Wolfgang, you should just ask.
By 8, the bridge players are all seated around the kitchen table, Bach, Hildegard, Mozart, and Zacara are also present to watch; Mozart is perched on the counter, eating nachos, though the others have brought in their own chairs. In the living room, Strozzi and Mahler are having a pleasant conversation when Schumann and Tchaikovsky come running into the room. Schumann dives across the couch (and Mahler) to get the remote control for the TV.
Mahler: WHOA-
Schumann: Excuse me, Dear Fellow - I MUST HAVE THE CONTROL--
Tchaikovsky: NO, ROBERT!
Strozzi: Uh - Guys--
Tchaik: (grabs remote, tugs on it) No, Robert, I have been waiting to see this presentation since last Tuesday-- You can watch The Sound of Music anytime - A&E is doing a biography of Princess Di!!
Schumann: The hills are ALIVE!! ALIVE with the presence of an unbelievably attractive nun!
Strozzi(hand to head): Excuse my housemates, they are all neurotic composers.
Tchaikovsky: I'm not neurotic --(freezes suddenly) am I??
Mahler: That's ok, I'm one myself.
(Enter Mozart with fruit punch bowl in his hands, Twister game under one arm.)
Mozart: Hi guys - oh hello Gustav, I didn't know you were visiting... (glance to Strozzi) Barbara's kept you all to herself, I see. (she winks back at Mozart) But no matter, I brought some of my homemade Mozart fruit punch for the occassion!
Meanwhile in the kitchen, the bridge players are into their second hand and bidding when Mussorgsky innocuously puts his bottle of vodka on the table. Being twice the size of a normal bottle of vodka, it's rather obvious.
Wagner(staring at his cards): hm... one heart, you said, Franz?
Liszt: Yes.
Wagner: two diamonds.. (notices vodka as Mussorgsky pours himself a glass) By Thor - what is that?
Muss(innocently): justsome special vodka for a special occassion.
Hildegard(nervous glance to Zacara): it's all downhill from here....
Zacara: I look forward to it.
Ives: That's Man's alcohol.
Muss: i dont drink this allthe time.. its 151 proof.
Liszt: Is that legal?
Muss: (shrug) who wants some?
Zacara: (tries to stifle his snickering)
Wagner: Well I'll have to have some. None of this smug smiling from you two.. ..
Bach(brings over some highball glasses): there you go.
Mussorgsky(pours): yep.
(Liszt takes a sip, pulls a pained faced)
Liszt: good God - why don't you just drink straight alcohol, Modest?
Mussorgsky: well i got a friend in chemistry...
Liszt: JS, would you get me some orange juice? I'm going to need some..