| A Composer Sitcom - Episode 17 Oh, for an Errant Turkish Cabbie |
| The day starts slowly, with the work crowd eating and leaving at their regular times. Beethoven, Schumann, and Brahms spend most of their morning in the front yard. Hildegard has decided to talk to Mussorgsky again - but when she finds him in the foyer..
Hildegard: You're all dressed up again! Mussorgsky: Women's club meeting. Hildegard: What! Mussorgsky: We need a gig. I'm going to get us one... Hildegard: "gig"? I - Mussorgsky: You're a woman. Maybe they'll commission something from you. I'll see... (goes out through the front door, leaves Hildegard standing) Hildegard: huh... Well that's.... sweet of him.. grahhh.. (hand to head) Bach returns early from work. It's only 1pm. He enters the house cautiously, as if expecting a war zone. He looks about the foyer: all quiet. In the TV room to his right, he sees Mussorgsky and his poet friend sitting on the couch poring over some notebook. To the left in the piano room he finds Wagner at the keyboard. Bach ducks in.. Bach: Hi Richard, what are you working on? Wagner: I'm writing my new opera. Ah, surprise finding you home at this hour.. Bach(sits at sofa): Yeah, I took the afternoon off. So is this the one Gustav is putting on? I haven't heard any of it yet! Wagner: No, thats Tristan, but let me play through a bit of it. (places a massive tome on the music holder, which bends back dangerously under the weight. He begins the introduction, which is slow and very chromatic... Bach leans back on the couch and listens, smirking every now at then at the more adventurous harmonies, but paying very much attention. The piece continues to grow in scale - Wagner talks over his playing) You have to imagine these are the violins --oh wait -- FRANZZ!!!! (Liszt appears promptly.) Liszt: Richard? Wagner: You must play this for Johann Sebastian. I can't do it justice. (gets up, lets Liszt sit.) Liszt: Ah... Tristan... good.. (picks up at the open page - gradually the phrases begin to grow, theme upon theme with no resolution.. Bach cringes at the unchanging harmony in the bass...and more of the same, sweeping lines in the upper voice, with no end of phrase... Bach slowly begins curling into a ball --) Bach: .... agh... - eg.....!! Wagner: (smirks in satisfaction) (Liszt continues to play -- the bass note MOVES up a half step but then falls back to the same as before - Bach cries out.) Bach: RESOLVE THE DAMNED V!! RESOLVE IT!! GOD -- (falls over) (Liszt plays, unaffected -- the bass moves but now to a completely unrelated key.) Bach: AGHHHHHHHH (tears at hair) (Enter Mussorgsky, fresh in from the TV room - he observes with a frown.) Mussorgsky: What... who's being murdered in here? Bach: (in fetal position) A!! WHAT -- WHERE --- AGHHHH Mussorgsky(perceives whats going on): Oh stop that silly stuff before he has a nervous breakdown. I need the piano eventually... hm . (sweeps out again) Liszt: (looks up, pauses) Bach: RESOLVE! Liszt: (resolves the chord he had stopped on) Bach: (sighs) Ok... aghhh.. (sits up, angry again) How can you write FIVE HOURS OF THAT! Wagner(smirks): I'm afraid you are only more sensitive than some listeners, JS. I appreciate your involvment. I take it as a compliment that my music is so powerful. Meanwhile Strozzi has gone to her yoga class and managed to stay awake. Now she's leaving when she sees Tchaikovsky and the infamous Desiree coming down the street. Strozzi: Ah, we meet again! Tchaik(smiles): hi Barbara. Desiree: Hello. Strozzi: Where are you two heading? Tchaik: Back to the conservatory - I have new songs to show her. Strozzi: Ah, you've locked yourself up with the piano lately? Tchaik: Indeed (Suddenly Strozzi spots a red-haired fellow with a peculiar limp walking along the opposite side of the street.) Strozzi: Ah - look, there's Antonio! (they turn around) Tchaik: Shouldn't he be at work? Strozzi: Hm, perhaps I'll follow him and find out where he works!! Hah, let us to the chase! Bye guys! (she darts off after him) Desiree: Pyotr, you have the strangest housemates. Tchaik: Barbara's one of the sane ones! Desiree: I'm concerned... (Strozzi continues after Zacara, weaving down alleys, but she has to run across the street nearly through a red light to keep up with him. He turns around knowingly.) Zacara: Madam, what are you doing? Strozzi: Ah, didn't you hear me call, Antonio? Zacara(smirks): Perhaps. Did you need something? Strozzi: I remember you owe me some sort of lunch.... Zacara: Ah, free lunch, eh? Doesn't Mr. Mahler hand out free lunch cards? Strozzi(confused): Hm? Zacara: Nevermind -- come on, I'll show you our favorite place. You ought to know it anyway, its your duty as a good Italian... (takes her hand - heads off down street. Strozzi has to smirk. This is the third 'date' in as many days - with yet another different person. Hopefully she won't run into anyone she knows....) Back at the house, Beethoven hears music-making in the piano room, and follows his ears, curious because he's not used to hearing Mussorgsky (a baritone) singing. He peeks around the corner and into the room; on the couch is the young count whose name Beethoven can't remember; Mussorgsky accompanies himself at the piano - a wandering harmonically bleak song. Muss: this, then.... is my night, my lonely night. (stops, Beethoven cant be sure if the song is paused or whether it's supposed to be complete; he frowns) Beethoven: hm..what are you doing? Golenischev-Kutusov: Hi Ludwig. Beethoven: uh.. hello Mussorgsky: what do you think we are doing? he has written poems. i am setting them to music. Beethoven(frowns): they sound.... depressing... Golenischev-Kutusov: They're about love! and we're Russian - what more can you expect? Beethoven: LOVE? Mussorgsky(thoughtfully): The next set should be about death. Beethoven(bewildered): Is there a difference?? Mussorgsky: well, not really, I suppose.. Beethoven(shrugs): I'll let you be... (wanders out, pulls out cell phone..) Meanwhile at il Tuscano's, Strozzi is trying to figure out the mystery of Zacara's work. They sit at a middle table, two specks of non-red in a restaurant filled with old women red hat club members on a monthly outing. Strozzi: So... were you planning to get lunch when I caught up to you? Zacara: Oh... Well I have a flexible schedule. I was thinking about grabbing something on the way, but this is much better. (tilts his glass of Merlot in her direction, they toast) Strozzi: The way.... to...? Zacara: Back to the office. Strozzi: Where's the office? Zacara(munching): Just around the corner - what were you doing on the town today? Strozzi: just a yoga class. It started on Saturday.. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep going - anyway-- so.. what exactly do you do - for work? Zacara(pondering a tortellini): Oh, whatever the boss needs. Strozzi: .. Is it a law firm or..? Zacara: No, no. More like..... .. investments. Strozzi: Investments? In what? Zacara: Well that depends - what are you so curious about the business for? Strozzi: Oh, it's just.. no one knows what you do. Zacara(laughs): I write music.... Strozzi: What does that have to do with investments!? Antonio, we just want to know if you work for the mafia or not. Zacara(throws head back and laughs): Don't ask me about my business! Strozzi: Seriously - (Suddenly she notices, behind Zacara at the front door of the restaurant, none other than Mahler walk in - she lights up -- until she recognizes Hugo Wolf with him --) uh-- !! Zacara(too busy laughing to notice): hahah -- the mafia -- (he does notice when Strozzi gets up from the table and stumbles off to the bathroom hiding behind her napkin) Ah? something I said? (glances over his shoulder) .....Ahh.... Our illustrious neighbor... and.. who is the sharp looking fellow with him? hm.... (Mahler and Wolf sit two tables over from Zacara, who, having lost his date, eavesdrops...) Wolf: So she's mad? Mahler: She shouldn't be. I told her this was over weeks ago. She keeps clinging - -and (lowers voice; Zacara smirks in concentration) its impossible working with her - Wolf: Ah, too bad. But this is the fault of your most recent love interest? Mahler: Well no - I dumped Marie before her but -- and just what are you grinning about?? Wolf: I met someone. Mahler: I figured there was a reason for this. You never want lunch unless you're complaining or bragging. Wolf: hey, its one or the other-- Zacara(his cell phone sets off, he glances at the name: "Barbara"): ... hm... I suppose I'll take this call.... Yes, m'dear? (Cut to the women's bathroom of il Tuscano's; Strozzi is peeking around the door into the restaurant, cell phone to ear, hand cupped around mouth) Strozzi: uh, Antonio? we have a situation here.... Zacara(grins): A situation? out of toilet paper, are they? Strozzi: You know what I'm talking about-- Gustav -- Zacara: Yes, I wonder he would be so jealous to see me with you? Or does this have to do with the dashing young man he's having lunch with? He wouldn't happen to be the one who was seen having such a nice, leisurely stroll around town with you on Tuesday evening, would he?? Strozzi: What!! How do you know about that!? Zacara(grins): I have my sources.... Strozzi: You DO work for the mafia!! Zacara: Or J.S. told me at breakfast yesterday... So what do you propose to do? I'm not about to interrupt their conversation - especially since they are - or were before you called - discussing their current love interests.. Strozzi: OH NO! INTERR- (an old woman from the red hat club is regarding her fearfully as she tries to enter the bathroom; Strozzi whispers angrily) - stop them!! Zacara(still grinning): Oh for God's sake - Strozzi: Come on, Antonio - go over there and say hello to Gustav, change the subject - ask about Wolfy's opera or something-- Zacara: Heh... I suppose I could... I'll see what I can do.. (hangs up; glances back at the two) Wolf: She sings - Mahler: It's always the singers-- Zacara: heh.. this is getting dangerous... (stands, stretches, saunters to the table and waits to be recognized. Mahler looks up first, as Wolf seems to be distracted in his thoughts.) Mahler: Yes? Zacara: You must be Gustav. Mahler(sternly): I don't do autographs outside of the concert hall. Zacara: Autographs - oh no, I was wondering if you might be appointing any geniuses today. Mahler: What? Zacara: I'm a composer. I hear you're in the habit of appointing composers geniuses. I'm in the market. (pulls out a chair, sits) Wolf: You never told me you did that, Gustav. Have you appointed yourself one yet? What about me? Mahler(to Zacara): What - who are you? What business do you have just-- Zacara: Everyone is asking about my business today! hahah -- Mahler: WAITER! (snaps fingers) Zacara: No no -- don't bring the hired help into this -- I am a composer. One of those who lives across the street from you- Mahler(frowns, but waves off the inquiring server): Well, what do you want with me? The opera season is closed. Zacara: Oh no, I know you have enough work ahead of you - what with Wolfgang and Richard... I ought to say a few words about the two of them... (shakes head, chuckles) Ahh, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into.. Mahler(frowns): What do you mean? Zacara(sighs): Well, where to begin? Wolf: Wait a minute -- you live across the street from him? Zacara: uh... Well the neighborhood is rather big... You know- there are a lot of composers in that particular area - it's an artistic- Wolf(to Mahler): She lives in that neighborhood too, you know . Zacara: AS I was saying-- Mahler: We were in the middle of a conversation -- if you want to talk you do live across the street - it wouldn't be difficult. Zacara: Oh yes it would with your schedule... (Meanwhile, Strozzi is pacing around the bathroom trying to figure out how to make her escape. She notes the old woman's red hat - which is now sitting on the counter..) Strozzi: Hm.... (grabs the hat and a large hand towel, wraps it around herself like a shawl - ducks out) Zacara: I know you like the Tristan opera- Mahler(brightens, in spite of himself): Ah, it is a masterpiece Zacara: Richard thinks so too - but you know I'm even intrigued by it. I was thinking of writing a mass based on it- Wolf: What!? Mahler(looks past Zacara, sees Strozzi sneaking by, but doesnt recognize her): What are these crazy old women doing today?? Zacara: (waves it off) it gives the place character... Mahler: Well, Mr.....? Zacara: da Teramo. (extends his hand, missing a finger) Mahler: I - ? Zacara: Antonio. Wolf: hah - I like this guy. You have some good neighbors around there.. Mahler: Well, yes - Zacara(waves to a waiter): Meeting new people always calls for wine.. (waves at a waiter) eh, Vincenzo! Wolf: So you compose church music? Zacara: yeah, little bit of this and that - you know, whatever the powers that be need - Mahler: I hope you're not on some antiquated patronage system... (conversation continues) Later on the homefront, Schumann is sitting in the backyard reading through a book of poetry. Brahms joins him, sits. Brahms: What's this? Schumann: Ah, Young Eagle - 'tis love poetry! Brahms: Oh no, this wouldn't have anything to do with Clara, would it? Schumann(sighs): Allow me. (he reads) In the bright summer morning I go around the garden. The flowers are whispering and talking, but I wander in silence. The flowers are whispering and talking, and they look pityingly at me: "Don't be angry with our sister, you sad, pale man!" (He pauses, nodding to himself.) Brahms: .... ... uh, Robert -? Schumann(tear in his eye): Isn't it beautiful? Brahms(disturbed): ...What happened? Schumann: hm? Brahms: ... Did... that isn't - I mean -- .. did she dump you or something? Schumann(brow furrows): Why should you think such dark thoughts?? I hope you do not wish us ill! Brahms: I - no, I -- that poem just is not very .... why would you be angry? Schumann(loftily): One day, my dear friend -- ONE DAY you will understand the pangs of true love! Brahms: What! Don't you start too!! Schumann(to himself): I do not really deserve - how dear! Brahms: You just met her -- Who is she? Schumann: Who is she? who is She? No one but an angel, a goddess of such heavenly purity, such true Beauty, not one but a thousand and one divine sparks glow in her lambent breast! Darling of the gods, tenderest dewdrop in their velvet eyelashes ... wine to my vinegar, silk to my burlap, lark to my parrot- marble never knew such silken easiness as lies in her gentle breast, the finest wines were never so elegant, the sharpest blades never so piercing as her unfiltered wit. she is the first press of the olives and i am the dregs in the cheapest bottle Brahms: So... how did you meet? Schumann(takes deep breath): Of the following I am not much the author as the puppet of fate's hand....... there stood I, pillar of salt, struck dumb... How the charioteer did cry out in discordancy! But no awakening has ever before been more dear to me nor shall any since as that which i beheld from the hideous chintz (may it never seem so foul to me again!) of her sofa. Nor shall i ever forget her sweet voice at that most glorious dawning (pauses dramatically - looking up in remembrance) "Hit and run. You should sue." Brahms: (frowns) Schumann: What fairer words could be heard by any man? -- None other but her second words to me-- a curse made sweet by it's impassioned rise to my defense: 'bloody cyclists.' Brahms: .... what did you say? Schumann: What did I say? I had just perceived the universe, man! What does one say on such an occasion?! I said, "where am I?" (lights up again - waving hand in remembrance) And with a choir of angels at her beck, she whispered me her name, showed me that vision of heaven peering down from above, introduced me to that earthly abode of such divine inspiration, let me taste the nectar and fruits of its design, gave me comforts and small white globes. two such perfect white globes...(adds fondly) Excedrin is a most delightful medicament, is it not? Brahms: oh... Schumann: I daresay concrete is a tough substance to tangle with. Had not such perfection condescended to my aid, I might still lie trapped in its cruel embrace.. Brahms: but you're all right now... right, Robert? Schumann: All right? Of course not! Brahms: That's what I was afraid of... Schumann: When have you ever known me to be all right! I am obliged to treat the child of heaven, diamond among oysters, pearl of the sands! in the expression of my courtesy for her intervention... who in God's name would be all right with that?? Brahms: Robert, you're not going to be.. writing love poetry at 3 am now are you ?? Schumann: my dear Johannes, the current time is only 2 in the afternoon! Brahms(hands to head): First Ludwig, now you! Schumann: Dare you suggest that our mighty lion has fallen from his pride? Such a trembling soul might well cower at such as has only now been importuned... And yet I am not terribly overtaken at this news... Brahms: Yes, surely you've noticed the strange behavior. (scowls) Whatever. I'll let you be. I'm going to do a crossword puzzle - a real one - with words. (stalks off) Schumann: How curious. The Young Eagle is distressed. Perhaps he believes not in the poetry of the lawn-gnome people... Would that I had such sense myself.. (looks at his book of poetry a moment, but begins reading again)... Upstairs, Mozart is doing his once-weekly search for "Incriminating Material," humming to himself as he roots through the closet in one of the bedrooms. Enter Brahms, scowling and looking for a crossword puzzle. Brahms: What are you doing?? This is not your room. Mozart: Ah, hehe - hi johannes. Brahms: What are you doing?? Mozart: I think I may have.. uh... left something in here.. Brahms: The only thing in there is Richard's pink silk scarves.. (rolls eyes) Mozart: Oh don't worry, I'll let you know if I find anything incriminating of his..? Brahms: I really shouldn't let you do that... Mozart(makes a puppy dog face): I'll let you know if I find anything incriminating of yours? Brahms(grabs him by the collar): Go do something constructive! (drags him out) Mozart: Ohhh ahahah - didn't like that idea, eh?? Brahms: Go away. The afternoon continues without incident, until Zacara returns home. Mussorgsky meets him in the foyer with his mail. Muss(packet of letters in hand): I don't know how you get so many letters in languages you don't understand... Zacara: Ah, the Polish publishers write back? Good. I'll deal with them after dinner.. (he heads to the kitchen, makes much noise looking for, but not finding, food.) Zacara: How can we be out of food! Ives(already there): We're not.. We have kraft macaroni and cheese. Zacara: NO. I had a fine lunch today. I had lunch with Barbara, and after she ran off, I had lunch with Mr. Mahler and his composer friend -- AND I'm not following that up with a dinner of Kraft macaroni and cheese! Ives: Well, Man, I don't know what you expect! I'm not cooking for you. (the two sit, glare at the table top.) Ives: So... how did you have two lunches and how are you hungry for dinner? (Before Zacara can reply, Mozart waltzes in, smiling merrily.) Mozart: What's for dinner? Zacara: Nothing! Mozart: Pizza? Ives: We don't even have any coupons! Zacara: I'd be up for pizza... mmm salami, pepperoni.. green peppers- Mozart: Pepperoni and mushroom on one. salami and green peppers on the other. Perfect. (picks up phone, dials) Ives: But I don't like pepperoni. Zacara: I like how he's got the number memorized- Mozart: An important number! Ah - hello? Yes, this is Wolfgang Mozart... yeah, it's 301-432-3928...... mm hm! And uh, we have a coupon special here for two medium pizzas two toppings $12.99.. (Ives and Zacara exchange a confused glance.) Ives: We do? Zacara: ah hahah (Mozart glares at them to be quiet) Mozart(feigned surprise): You don't? Huh, well it says it doesn't expire til the end of the month..... like what? oh... let me see... no, its just the front cover of the ad - like, the whole front page and the other little ones with claim codes are on the back.. ah hah. ok......(skips about while on hold.) Ives: Imp. Mozart: (pauses, listening) ah - OH! well I won't argue with that, but ours says $12.99. yeah..... cash... Thanks! (hangs up) Zacara: What was that all about? Mozart: She searched the computer and found the same deal for $11.99.. I was less generous, I'm afraid.. heh, bit of the old man in me. Ives(appalled): You just made up a coupon!! Mozart: yes.. Ives: That's ... Zacara: That's great. I approve. Mozart: But you guys are paying for it. Within the hour, the pizzas arrive. It's not long before the rest of the household arrives in the kitchen too. Luckily, Zacara, Ives, and Mozart are fortified around the table with their beers before the others come. Strozzi: mmmm, pizza.... (looks) what -- is that Papa John's? Sorry! (walks back out) Zacara: Wait - Barbara - (she returns) You didn't explain what prompted the running from the restaurant today.. Strozzi: I think I did. Mozart: Whoa - what's going on? Ives(to Z): You didn't mention that she ran off! Zacara: Yes I did - I said exactly that she ran off. You just didn't take it literally. You see, Babara seems to be seeing two fellows at once! Bach: RIGHT. (has appeared in doorway, stands grumpily blocking her way.) Strozzi: Ah heh - did you have something to do with this, JS? Bach: I saw you and that -- that other guy on Tuesday ! Mozart: OHHHH, Scandal! Ohhh my virgin ears! (takes swig of beer) (Enter Tchaik) Tchaik: I smell pizza - AND heard scandal - what could be better? (enter Wagner) Wagner: Pizza. Excellent idea. Strozzi(to Tchaik): ah yes, speaking of scandal, have you dumped Yuri yet? Tchaik: No... I don't see the need for such harsh measures -- whatever Richard may think! Wagner(maganimously helps himself to a piece of pizza): I beg your pardon, Pyotr, but although I am hardly an expert in these affairs, I will allow that I probably still have better taste in men than you. Mozart: HAHAAH!! (Zacara puts a hand to his head) Tchaik: WHAT!! Wagner(sits nonchalantly): Fools ought to know what suits them. Your man Yuri couldn't do justice to a lobster of that caliber if his life depended on it. Tchaik: YES he can! I should know! Ives: (hand over eyes) Agh I did not need to hear that! Strozzi: guys?! Mozart: So Barbara... how can you support this scandal...? seeing TWO men at once - and neither one of them is me! (mock pout) I'm insulted, you know. Strozzi: I'm not seeing two at once.. Where's Franz - he can explain how this happened. It was just pure coincidence that we both wound up with a date on Tuesday. Where is he? Wagner: I asked Franz if he should like to partake of the of pizza, but he was busy talking on the phone to some charming nymph. (Enter Beethoven) Beethoven(surveying): ... there a slice for me? Wagner: Give the mighty genius his due. Ives: This is not your pizza to delegate. I don't want to hear it from you -- you'd better finish that slice you've got or I'll come over there and take it back. Wagner: I beg your pardon -- Mozart(archly):Perhaps we will give you a piece, Ludwig.. IF you explain to us about your date Tuesday. Beethoven(looks about shifty-eyed): What do you want to know?? Why is this such a point of interest? Strozzi: You're the man of mystery - we need to know. Beethoven: you and Pyotr have enough stories for the rest of us. Tchaik: hah - that's true, Barbara. Strozzi: Yes, but you're so secretive.. Beethoven: I just dont want the whole house butting into my affairs.. (reaches for plate, Mozart pulls them out of reach.) Mozart: But we don't even know her name! Beethoven: grr.... I see I'm not wanted around here! (backs up) Strozzi: Oh no! Don't leave yet- Tchaik: Yeah, we don't even know if she exists! Beethoven: If you want to hear a real love story, go ask Robert - he'll talk your ears off. (huffs away) Strozzi: Robert?? I haven't heard about this! Wagner: I hope this has nothing to do with the small mammalian companions with whom I saw him fraternizing the other day... Zacara: Try that again in English, Richard. Wagner(tsks): While I was out about town collecting a bouquet of lilacs for Priscilla, I witnessed Schumann dancing like a madman in the pet shop - surrounded by small dogs, the poor things to be exposed to such deranged foolishness.. Bach: How do I miss all of this all the time? (Enter Hildegard, who remains in the doorway to stay out of the way..) Hildegard: Ugh, how can you eat that greasy garbage? Ives: Hildegard, what's this about Robert being in love with puppies? Hildegard: What?? I have no idea - ask Robert. Tchaik: But you commune with the spirits. Surely you can understand Robert. Hildegard: Well if you want to understand Robert, ask Johannes. But I haven't heard anything about it -- (eyes narrow in thought) unless that's the reason he was out Tuesday. Mozart: We were all out on Tuesday, heh - although I should have been out yesterday.. Wagner: If you ever bring that man into this household again.. He nearly killed Franz! Strozzi: You didn't even have to deal with him! Mozart: hey hey -- he's MY dad, I don't want to hear it from you people! Hildegard(glances into hallway): here's Johannes. He can tell us what's going on with Robert. Johannes - come have Pizza! (Brahms appears, sniffs.) Brahms: Pizza. Mozart: You can have a piece, Hannes, if you tell us what's the story with Robert. Brahms(frowns): He's in love. Ives: With puppies? Wagner: I wouldn't put it past the fool. Brahms: No. A girl named Clara. I met her on Tuesday. She seems all right. Mozart(laughs): Oh, such high praise coming from him! Brahms(shrugs): Can I have my pizza now? Strozzi: How cute! How'd they meet? This seems so sudden. (Brahms takes a piece of pizza, sits on counter.) Brahms: She lives in town. He went for a walk, heard her playing piano - some biker rode by and hit him, knocked him out. So she took him in and gave him Excedrin. Mozart(laughing): what a way to meet! Strozzi(ironically): So romantic... Brahms: It's better when Robert explains it. (Enter Muss, bottle of vodka in hand.) Muss: heyyyy pizza! Hildegard: oh no - more alcohol! Zacara(leans protectively over pizza box): hey now. I've only had three pieces so far.. Tchaik: Hey Modest, what's going on with you and that poet? Muss(raised eyebrow): I set someof his poemsto music. Confusedtha hell outof Ludwig today. He doesnt understand the musicofthe Russian people. Ives: Is EVERYONE in this house having an affair of some sort! (This causes a general outburst) Zacara: hahaha! Strozzi: just one! Mozart: I'M NOT!!! O WEH! Brahms: the hell with- Muss: Artistic Collaboration!! Hildegard: What a mess... I'm glad I'm not involved.. Liszt(appears in doorway): Did someone say affairs?? I'm here! (groaning from the group) Later, after dinner, Mozart heads into the den, where he finds Brahms sitting on the couch with a crossword puzzle. Mozart: Are you back to crossword puzzles?! Brahms(muttering to self): ...south American birds... 5 letters??? (looks up) what? Mozart(grinning like he is about to burst): I have a proposal for you. Brahms: What? Mozart: Something that will put a smile on your face. Brahms: Sounds expensive.... Mozart: Yes - Pay me an exorbitant amount of money and/or your eternal soul..... AND I shall deliver into your grubby little hands The most beautiful blackmail piece in the history of Mankind. (whips out collection of letters, waves them gleefully) Brahms(holds out hand): I dont have any money, so eternal soul it is. What's her name? Mozart: NO NO -- its BETTER. Brahms(crosses arms): What could be better than bad love letters? Mozart: hahahahah (falls onto sofa laughing) Brahms: What!? (snatches a letter, reads) what -- what?! is this- (looks at signature) ah ahahahahahah!!!!! Mozart: HAHAHAHAHA! Brahms(reading from letter in pompous tone): "No. 2, I'll need five ells of the pink satin - dark pink." HAHAHA!! Mozart: HAahahah -- that one has a postscript!! Brahms: What! (scans down, reads): "PS: Do not confound no. 2, the dark pink, with the old violet pink, which is not what I mean, but rather a true pink, only very dark and fiery." - - ahahahah Mozart: hahahahah (wipes tears from eyes) (Enter Wagner, who pauses imperiously in the doorway) Wagner: What is this unholy cachinnation?! (The two pause, silent a moment - then burst out laughing again) Wagner: What! (They are laughing too hard to answer. Wagner smirks, then stalks over to Brahms and seizes the letter from him. He reads... it dawns on him.) Wagner: .... what.... this is not funny. This is the very serious business of my milliner! What nerve have you -- Both: aghaghahahahahahaa! Wagner: MY PRIVATE LETTERS TO MY MILLINER!! Mozart(snatches back the letter from Wagner): Ahhaah -- Are you really getting a pink satin coverlet for the little table in the piano room??! Wagner: wha-- GRAH GIVE ME THOSE -- (dives at the two, attempts to wrestle the letters away from Mozart) Mozart: oh hahah - help!! agh -- haha- (Wagner wraps one hand around his neck) AGH- Wagner: My LETTERS- -- (Brahms beats him upside the head with the crossword puzzle book) WHAT - COLLUSION! Mozart(gagging and trying to laugh at the same time): aghghahghahghg-- tak -- TAKE - -(shoves the letters at Brahms who grabs them and takes off) Wagner: FOUL COLLABORATION! COME BACK, BRAHMS! (drops Mozart, runs after him) Mozart: aghahahaahah ahhhhhh hahahahh (rolls over, clutching stomach) The chase is on - Brahms dashes out into the hallway - heads towards the front door - Wagner runs after, fuming and yelling. From the piano room, sudden and loud girl-tied-to-the-railroad-tracks music flares up; obviously Liszt is in there. Ives calls from the kitchen "STOP THAT RACKET!" Hildegard steps out of the TV room into the hallway-- Hildegard: What is -- AGHH ! Brahms: Move! (spins, manages to avoid running straight into Hildegard - Wagner does the same and follows Brahms out the front door.) Hildegard: What are you maniacs doing?! Wagner: FOUL PLAY! (slams door) Hildegard(leans back against wall): I am moving into a convent.. I swear...... (enter Ives from kitchen) Ives: What is all this yelling? Hildegard: Those fools running around like children. Ives: What fools? (Mozart comes into the hallway, carrying a large plastic bag.) Mozart: Did he get him? Hildegard: Richard was running after Johannes last I saw...(eyes narrow) You know what this is about? Ives: Oh, was he? (snorts) That's about an even match. Mozart: I delivered to Johannes some very intriguing letters I found... But I must be off - this latest incident has finally inspired me to get the camcorder fixed. Who knows, maybe we'll be able to film when I return! News at 11! (heads out) Hildegard: Oh no..... (Muss appears in TV room doorway) Muss: look Hildegard- Hildegard: You were about to say? Muss: Well, American Justice is about to start - I just wanted to let you know that the women's club thinks you should write some sort of "morality play with music" for them. They'll finance it and get you a nice venue in town.. (turns and goes back into tv room) Hildegard: WHAT!? (runs after him) How did you manage that?? Muss(shrugs): they like my songs-- Hildegard: What! -- AMAZING! (hugs him) Muss: hey hey ok dont block the tv About an hour later, Wagner returns home, scowling fit to burn down a skyscraper. He slams the door shut behind him. Mussorgsky appears in the doorway, concerned. Mussorgsky: Whats goinon? Wagner: BUFFOON BRAHMS STOLE MY PRIVATE LETTERS! Muss: i bet thats interesting Wagner: --TO MY MILLINER! Muss: ... better still.. ..(sees Wagner is about to knock over the grandfather clock) and uh... its a shame hes invaded your artistic privacy.. Wagner(pauses): Well, yes it is. These foul mortals can only hope to catch a glimpse into the working mind of the true Genius.. Liszt(sticks head out of piano room): aw, did he get away? Wagner(scoffs): After embarking on a marathon of epic proportions, we found ourselves in the middle of town - however, the arch-fiend skittered off through that god-forsaken geyser-fountain-Monstrosity at Main and 9th, and thus I was forced to wait.. by the time I made it through the wall of water, the villain had disappeared. Oh, cruel fate! 'Twere only fitting if he had been struck down by an errant Turkish cabbie! (stalks off shaking fist at ceiling. Liszt and Muss look at each other across the hall) Muss: hey dont lookat me - hes your friend.. Liszt: (shakes head) |
| [See the cartoon on the artwork page] |