Millinery Difficulties
Wagner: Ah, look, Priscilla - all this should be mine to control and mold into ART, for what is art when is it not modeled off the laws of nature - Witness the dales and the hills - the small farms, the peasants -even the minutest detail - down to lady bug or sauteed mushroom.. (sniffs) (wakes up) What...(sniffs again -indeed, mushrooms) Who's cooking! (he climbs out of bed, dons his pink satin bathrobe and follows his nose to the kitchen.)
In the kitchen he finds Bach seated at the table with one of his music notebooks, Zacara retrieving a diet Coke from the refrigerator, and Brahms cooking at the stove.
Wagner: What is this chicanery? Have you any idea what time it is!
Bach(not looking up): 5:45. Good morning, Richard.
Zacara: Some people have work, you know.
Wagner: "Work"! Some people don't succumb to the rote order of the 9-5 job or the paltry demands of the local church!
Brahms(bright-eyed): That's right, Richard. For example, I set my own hours. (whole wheat toast pops up in toaster at the counter.)
Wagner: Those of us who rely on Musical Inspiration to compose cannot do that at 5 in the morning!
Brahms(thrusts hot pan under his nose): Omelette?
Wagner: rrgh - Too early for this!
Bach: I think his idea of 'morning' person is one who stays out 'til 3.
Brahms: That sounds about right: redefining the Earth's diurnal cycles according to the needs of Genius....
Wagner: YOU are insufferable - WHERE ARE THOSE LETTERS!
Brahms(perfectly innocently): Letters, Richard?
Zacara: ooohh, incriminating letters, eh? What's this about?
Wagner(steps forward menacingly, then steps back at the sight of the sizzling pan, which keeps appearing between him and Brahms): .. .gr....It's too early for this nonsense. I shall magnanimously grant you Three Hours to return my letters. If they are not back in their proper place by the time I make my regular kitchen appearance later this morning (dramatic intake of breath), then I shall take very drastic measures to recover them.....
(Zacara and Bach grin at each other across the table.)
Brahms: Well... ... the drastic measures won't involve pink satin rosettes will they??
(the others snicker)
Wagner: ....... You .......will be very lucky if they do... (spins and makes a dramatic exit, bathrobe swishing in his wake.)
Hildegard is excited about the prospect of composing a music play.. She is going around the house plotting this very moment.
Hildegard: It will harken back to antiquity... the virtues will speak -- (pauses in foyer, looks into mirror) Yes. (the front door opens - Liszt enters, heads straight for the kitchen) Hm. the men will be the goats.
Liszt(cheerfully): What, Hildegard?
Hildegard: I'm thinking about my morality play. I can recruit my housemates.. this will be good.
Liszt: I heard something about 'goats'....?
Hildegard: The men will be the goats, I said.
Liszt(blinks): ... not all of them, I hope?
Hildegard: Hm.. yes.
Liszt(keeps going to kitchen): I'm afraid I'll be too busy to take part....
Hildegard: Of course!
(Muss sticks his head into the foyer from his TV room)
Muss: Whats going on?
Hildegard(in all seriousness): Modest, would you like to be one of my goats?
Muss: uh... see this is the sort of crap that happens when I'm too sober... (disappears)
Hildegard: I MEAN IN THE PLAY!
Muss(from other room): Do I get to sing?
Hildegard: Well. er... no.
Muss: THEN NO!!
Hildegard: I see I'm going about this the wrong way.. (goes into piano room) These housemates of mine are still so suspicious of every team-building -- AH! that's it! We need team-building therapy! Perfect! (rubs hands together gleefully)
Soon the morning peace is interrupted by Schumann, who tears through the backdoor yelling -
Schumann: MAN THE DECKS!!!
Liszt(looks out of den): What!?
Schumann(pauses): It's raining.
Liszt: oh! I should close the windows of the car! (runs out)
Schumann(watches after him suspiciously): Ah, had the foretop shown more foresight this should not be a problem, o flighty Franz... (pause) -- HANNES!!!!
(footsteps from the stairs, Brahms jogs down.)
Brahms: What, Robert?
Schumann: The Day is young ! (gestures to front door, which Liszt has left open in his haste) Let us venture forth into the wide world, into the glorious embrace of Nature where all minds may find free forum --
Brahms: Robert, it's raining.
Schumann: --COFFEE SHOP, MAN!
Brahms: Oh... well - let me--
Schumann(adds conspiratorily): The divine image has consented to me meet at 5th.
Brahms(affronted): What! I'm not going on your date with you!
(Liszt runs back in, hair wet.)
Liszt: What's going on?
Brahms: Robert is trying to take me on his date with him.
Liszt(laughs): He's crazy.
Schumann(shakes head): Speak you of DATES? What need have two perfectly matched souls of your infantile dates?? 'Tis predetermined! We are as two peas in the proverbial Pod - Two ventricles of the Heart - Two stuffed dice dangling from the rearview mirror of Fate's Porsche!
Brahms: What does that make me - the garfield plastered to the back window???
Schumann(frowns): Why - the Young Eagle soaring alongside!
Brahms: Not even worthy of the passenger seat, I see.. (stalks off)
(Schumann looks confused and hurt.)
Liszt: Ah, don't be offended, Robert... we'll find him a date, then he won't grumble about yours.
Schumann: KEIN DATE!! (storms out front door)
Cut to ye olde music conservatory, where Tchaik is attempting to explain his new-found love of Desiree to Yuri, who sits at the piano in the empty classroom and listens bemusedly.
Tchaik(pacing back and forth): And -- it's nothing against you, you understand, my dear. I mean, you and I get along very well - too well! But this is -- it's just a matter of -- when the souls are so perfectly aligned as hers and mine, there just can't be any denying the fact that we belong together. Now I have tried to talk to her about this. I proposed the idea to her at lunch yesterday, and do you know what she did? (Yuri raises a questioning eyebrow) She laughed! I pressed my suit, but she seemed only to think I was joking.... (shakes head) I don't know what to do -- but she doesn't seem particularly fond of the idea of us dating!
Yuri: That could have something to do with the fact that you're gay!
Tchaik: No - I think she's just---
Yuri: --What do you mean "no"?! What about Tuesday!?
Tchaik: Well... (looks away to keep from grinning)... Don't ask me to explain these things. (serious again) You can't -- direct the arrow of love!
Yuri(laughs): oh, yes you can.. (starts to play some brooding romantic melody)
Tchaik: oh stop that. You are not going to sit there and play my own music to seduce me!
Yuri(keeps playing): You should write me a piano concerto, Pyotr.
Tchaik: Can't. Too busy with my songs.
Yuri: You are not really ready to relegate me to the accompanimental role..
Tchaik: Actually, you could come along and provide some nice background music for our date tonight -- I'll be too busy cooking to play....
Yuri(hops up): What!
Tchaik(prim nod): Yes.
Yuri(walks over to him): Pyotr... If I "accompany" you on your date, I can guarantee that the two people who wind up on the couch together WILL NOT BE you and Desiree.....
Tchaik(trying to excuse himself gracefully before Yuri reaches him): Now, Yuri... I understand if you feel a bit.... miffed about this whole thing.. (skirts behind piano; Yuri follows like a cat stalking a mouse) Now - it's just a matter of Destiny that cannot be denied .. It leads me this way - (to door) You'll get over it -
Yuri(stops, smirks): I give "Destiny" three days before she sends you back to me.
Tchaik: yes, well.. We'll see about that! (ducks out)
Once he returns to the house, Tchaik decides its time for some "down time." He heads into the TV room, hoping to find Mussorgsky asleep.
Muss: hi Pyotr
Tchaik: Hi Modest.. I thought you might be napping
Muss: nah thats for the 2-3 time slot... Passions is on now.
Tchaik(sits, watches a minute): I don't want to watch this..
Muss: You can go be one of Hildegard's goats..
Tchaik: Excuse me? Maybe I'll go read upstairs..(exit)
Meanwhile Richard Wagner has found, much to his disatisfaction, that Brahms has NOT returned the infamous letters to the milliner. He now stalks about the house in search of the offender, since, thanks to the rain, "I know he's not outside hiding in any trees!" Finally he finds him in the basement (the last place he looks, of course), playing pool.
Wagner: BRAHMS!
Brahms(looks up): Didn't you find the letters??
Wagner: What?
Brahms(nonchalantly): I left them in the piano seat.
Wagner: How was I to know to look for them there??
Brahms: I thought it was more important that no one else knew to look for them there.
Wagner: CONFOUNDED (runs back upstairs, looks in piano seat, kicking off Strozzi in the meanwhile - he finds nothing but old sheet music. He fumes and shakes his fist then returns to the basement. Of course Brahms is nowhere to be found.) THE SCOUNDREL! (sits on couch, ponders) What is to be done? I know. (pulls out cell phone, dials)
Cut to den, where Franz Liszt is lounging on the sofa orchestrating one of his latest works.
Liszt: hm... more trombones here....(suddenly his phone rings; he checks the name..) "...Richard"? why is he calling - where is he? (answers phone) Something wrong, Richard?
SPLIT SCREEN SITCOM --
Wagner: Franz, I fear I am in desperate need of your assistance. Unforseen circumstances have clouded what should have been a clear day in life of Richard Wagner, and by this I mean not to implicate in any way the foul weather we are currently experiencing outside.. Could you please meet me in the basement presently?
Liszt: Ah, certainly.. (gets up, stretches) You're not... trapped underneath the pool table, are you?
Wagner(smirks): I shall admirably restrain myself from making a comment about those poor colleagues of mine who are in the habit of chaining themselves to heavy inanimate objects... Please come now.
Liszt: I'll see you shortly..
(click, click)
Soon Liszt arrives in the basement, curiosity having got the better of him. He joins Wagner at the couch.
Liszt: What's the problem, Richard? You seem healthy enough.
Wagner: Ah, perhaps I may seem so physically, but it is only a matter of time before the spiritual wound makes itself manifest in my earthly Being. Now you are aware of the fastidious care and pride with which I attend to my dress..
Liszt: Yes...
Wagner: It is in my very nature to lead even my tailors and milliners toward true enlightenment in the ways of proper accoutremental adornment. However, it has so happened recently that some of my private letters detailing such matters to my milliner have fallen into unnappreciative hands.. (pauses) or perhaps, overly-appreciative hands..
Liszt: Oh..? I'm not.. aware of this..
Wagner: The scoundrel Brahms has absconded with my letters and refuses to return them!
Liszt: hah - what can he want with them?
Wagner: Don't ask me to fathom the mind of that reactionary reprobate!! All that matters is that the letters must be returned - whatever means will be justified by that end. (grand pause) This is of course why I have enlisted your aid, Franz....
Liszt: I don't know what you expect me to do..
Wagner: Why recover my letters, of course! What else could I expect? You are well-versed in the ways of worldly seduction, and I have no fear that you should be able to cajole the fool into giving up my prized letters!
Liszt(laughs): I'm not going to seduce him!
Wagner: You know I was speaking figuratively! Just recover my letters before the blackguard plasters them all about town - I don't care what you have to do!
Liszt(rubs forehead): ahh, that's going to be an interesting conversation.....
Later we find Tchaik preparing to leave for his date -- in the kitchen. Enter Hildegard
Hildegard: Pyotr, what are you doing?
Tchaik(searching spice drawer): I'm looking for marjoram... (Hildegard's eyebrows perk in interest)
Hildegard: Are you planning to cook for us tonight?
Tchaik: Oh no, I'm going to Desiree's - I'm making her a romantic dinner.
Hildegard: ... you're going to impress her with your manly cooking abilities?
Tchaik: Yes.
Hildegard: What are you making?
Tchaik: Chicken Marsala .
Hildegard: Oh, tricky.. You know, Barbara was just telling me about her marsala recipe the other day.
Tchaik: What does she do?
Hildegard: well she says that the key to marsala is "the timing of the garlic" (tchaik looks quizzical) She said you can't let it burn or even sautee too long. You have to add it to the pan at exactly the right time..
Tchaik: Didnt she say when that was?
Hildegard(shrugs): She couldn't explain. You have to have the inner eye.
Tchaik: Well that's great for you! How are we mortals supposed to cook?? (he pauses thoughtfully) How does she thicken the sauce?
Hildegard: Ah... with butter.
Tchaik: Butter? how much?
Hildegard: You know... not too much..
Tchaik: HILDEGARD! You are making me nervous now...
Hildegard: Oh don't worry about it, Pyotr - you'll be fine.. Oh, by the way, when are you coming back tonight?
Tchaik: Well, I don't know.. depends on how well everything goes.
Hildegard: Then I'll tell you now - I am planning to arrange a teambuilding day for all of us. We need to learn better cooperation, and playing some games will help strengthen our sense of community..
Tchaik(frowns): You mean like those games they play when you fall backward and someone has to catch you?
Hildegard: Yeah, that sort of thing..
Tchaik(picks up supplies): Ah... hm.. Maybe as long as Robert doesn't play... (exit)
Later in the afternoon Liszt "happens upon" Brahms, who is upstairs reading, stretched out comfortably on his bed.
Liszt: Hi Johannes.
Brahms: ..hm?
Liszt(sits on bed across from him): What are you up to?
Brahms: Reading.
Liszt: Ah. (squints at title) What's that?
Brahms(as if its another novel): Bible..
Liszt: wh-- I thought you were a godless heathen!
Brahms: apparently not.. (frowns) Did you want something?
Liszt: (has considered the options: 1) smooth talking: brahms will see through it 2) threaten physical violence: that could get messy 3) direct approach: bribery.) Uh... Well, I realize you're a smart fellow, Johannes, so I'll get right to the point: You have some letters of Richard's that I'd like to get.....
Brahms(reading again): mm hm...?
Liszt: And... I'm willing to pay for them.
Brahms: ... eternal soul..
Liszt: I was thinking more along the lines of monetary reimbursement..
Brahms: ... eternal soul...
Liszt: I can set you up for some nice piano concerts...
Brahms: ...eternal soul....
Liszt: I know a nice girl who-
Brahms: NONE OF YOUR DATES!!
Liszt: Ah - sorry - What do you want?
Brahms(sits up, bellows as best he can): .....Your Eternal Soul!!! (adds conversationally) I sold mine to Wolfy in exchange for the letters...
Liszt: ..but I don't have a soul, Johannes.
Brahms: Then I suggest you go find yourself a Bible, too.
Liszt: (sighs) There has to be something..... beer for a year?
Brahms(not looking up): Nope..
Liszt: porn for a year?
Brahms: Nope..
Liszt: .....crossword puzzles for a year?
Brahms(looks up): You have a very strange conception of my tastes.
Liszt: Tell me!
Brahms(thinks a moment): Well....... There is something... Maybe if you could find me some incriminating letters... oh wait. (shrugs)
Liszt: Ah! What about incriminating letters -- of Ludwig's?!
Brahms(hadn't thought of this): mm... I might consider a letter-exchange in that case...
Liszt: ah... Let me see what I can do -- no downpayment??
Brahms: get out of here.
Liszt: I'll be back!
Liszt spends the afternoon searching in Beethoven's room for letters. Beethoven is in the pool room getting whooped at 8-ball by Mozart, and thus is no threat. Liszt finally finds buried in a sock drawer some wrinkled papers with scribblings on them
Liszt: Ah! What have we here?? (squints at letter) Uh...... hm.. (looks at next one) This.. has the FORM of a letter... (notes the wild pencil scratches across various phrases) What.. is this a draft?? How precious.. Ludwig drafts his love letters.. well, they have to learn somewhere.....(squints again) But it's illegible! "dear'.... that is 'dear' isn't it? Ah, let Johannes figure it out! I've got what he wants! (darts back to the other bedroom, where Brahms is still reading on his bed. Liszt walks over proudly and deposits the letters beside him.)
Liszt: Ah, there you go, Johannes. read it and weep. Letters of Ludwig.
Brahms(picks one up, squints.... frowns.... looks confused.... opens mouth... closes mouth..pouts): ....... I can't read this!
Liszt: oh.. I was hoping you could...
Brahms(crumples letters): grr... no deal
Liszt: BUT -- There was no stipulation that you had to be able to read them!
Brahms: no deal!
Liszt: I found you letters of Ludwig.
Brahms: You could have scribbled that yourself! Although I believe you. you should see his music notebooks... now don't waste my time - if you can't read it, I can't read it.
Liszt: Well.. you understand Robert - I thought maybe--
Brahms: I'm only human!
Liszt(sighs, takes letters back, uncrumples them): I think he sends the real ones to her!
Brahms: It's your problem.
Liszt(mutters as he leaves): ... .Richard owes me HIS eternal soul...
Cut to basement:
Mozart: AH hahahahahahaah!! (slaps pool table)
Beethoven(gripping pool stick in threatening manner): grr... no point in gloating... some of us spend our time with worthwhile pursuits!
Mozart: hahahahahahahaahah!!!
Beethoven: Forget this! I'm going out! (storms off)
Mozart: What do you mean 'out' - it's pouring down rain! Ahhh, these heathens... (chuckles)
After dinner, we find Liszt and Wagner commiserating in the TV room; Mussorgsky has fallen asleep in front of Wheel of Fortune.
Wagner: Did you ask Ludwig?
Liszt: No. How would that conversation go? "Dear Ludwig... I need some of your private letters to your mysterious beloved -- oh no, they're not for me.. Johannes wants to blackmail you with them...." That would go over like - like - ... .I don't know what.
Wagner(shakes head pensively): beans on a bustrip.
Liszt(smirks): well.. something like that.
Wagner(stands abruptly): This is preposterous. (stalks out)
Cut to Beethoven, covered in a plastic poncho, dragging what appears to be an almond-colored dogloo into the backyard...
Beethoven: .. grr.... stupid rain.... (sets it down under the tree; takes out of jacket a roll of duct tape and pulls it over the hole in the top of the dogloo. he stands back to inspect...) hm.. no leak.... good. (crawls inside)
Back in the living room, Liszt is left to ponder the situation with the sleeping Mussorgsky. Enter Ives with a can of beer and Zacara with a can of diet coke. They sit on either side of Liszt and crowd him.
Liszt: What is this? Isn't there more room for you guys?
Ives: Someone can sit on the chair. (they glance across the room to the ratty old arm chair, which leans back crookedly and is covered in crocheting supplies) hmm...
Zacara: Whose crocheting supplies are those??
(stony silence)
Liszt: Damn it, I was here first. You should both sit over there!
Zacara: Such harsh language from our friend Franz? Whats the matter - dont you have a date tonight?
Liszt: No. And Richard's getting on my nerves. He keeps pestering me to.... get my letters back from Brahms.
Zacara(remembers breakfast): oh your letters now? heh. Well, how desperate is the situation? (Liszt frowns) ...that is, how much are you willing to pay?
Liszt: Ah... I'm sure we could negotiate a price.. if you had some sort of plan?
Muss(snorts, opens eyes): whasts this dirty dleaings?
Zacara: (stands, stretches) Well, I'd be interested to see a ... poker match tonight... (mysteriously leaves)
Ives: What's he talking about?
Liszt: ... I hope he knows I have no soul to offer him.....
Mussorgsky(yells at TV): DESPERADO! 9 letters god these people are clueless
Ives: (sighs)
An hour later, when they're all embroiled in an episode of SVU, the doorbell rings. Zacara (who has since returned to the sofa) stands and stretches...
Zacara: Ahhhh, I suppose that's the boys....
Ives: Are we playing poker?
(Strozzi goes by in the hallway)
Zacara: uh - Barbara-
(She answers the door, is rather surprised to find four huge guys in black tuxedos with violin cases, except for one, who appears to have a giant cello case strapped to his back.)
Strozzi: Uh... Hello?
Man1(sounds particularly thick): Hello. We have been invited to your home by Antonio. (holds out a giant hand for her to shake)
Strozzi: ...ah, of course.. Do come in - (Zacara joins them)
Zacara: Lucca! Excellent! Come... (sees the questioning look from Strozzi) String quartet....
(Schumann pops his head out of the piano room).
Schumann: What spark of mayhem flutters here? (sees the guys, frowns) I'll have you know this is no rehearsal space for Cagney movies! (frowns again) .... Hannes knows of this??? He ought... (phone rings; Schumann darts back into the piano room and picks it up, flinging himself on the sofa meanwhile) HARK!! ...... Chiarina!! (crouches down, as if there were other people in the room) soft...... yes! ..... (etc)
Back in the TV room Zacara sits next to Liszt as the four stand threateningly around the coffee table.
Zacara: Now then, Franz... where's the string quartet you wanted them to play?
Mussorgsky(to the TV): What is symphonic metamorphosis!
Liszt: uh.... I didn't have -- what, no, Modest. (realizes he's watching Jeopardy) oh... well, no, I don't have any string quartets.
Zacara: oh huh! Well, gee... I didn't want to have called the guys out for nothing... anything else you need help with???
Liszt: ..... funny you ask.... (looks at the guys) uh, well you see, we have this... housemate of ours who stole some documents...he's just sitting around upstairs..
(the four look confused, but start to follow Liszt out the door; Zacara whispers at them on the way)
Zacara: Prendete il biondo con i letteri!
Cut to Brahms, still reading his bed. Liszt and "string quartet" come in. From the hallway, the voice of Wagner can be heard... displeased...
Wagner: Foul mortal fools! How DARE they deny me an increase in credit! What - What is to be done!! What inconceivable pig-headed stupidity -- FRAAAAANNZZZ!!
Liszt(about to make a dramatic statement; rolls eyes): In here, Richard!
(Wagner strides into the room; pauses at the sight of the Italians. )
Wagner: ..Franz..
Liszt: Ah, we were just making Johannes an offer... return the letters-
Lucca: uh, excuse me
Liszt(affronted): Yes?
Lucca: the correct phrase is: "An offer he can't refuse."
Liszt: Oh, right...(back to Brahms) Return the letters.
Brahms: ..... or?
Lucca: .. Giovanni... the cello case.
(One of the henchmen kneels and puts the case on the floor, begins unlocking it, one lock at a time.... (click...... click...).. everyone waits in breathless anticipation as Giovanni fumbles around with the last lock.... except Liszt, who taps his foot impatiently.. Finally the lid falls open and Giovanni pulls out a GIGANTIC tommy gun with a tommy hilfiger logo on it.. miles of ammo chains line the case..)
Liszt: ... wow.
Brahms: (wide-eyed)
Wagner: (faints with a thud)
Lizst: (kneels to help Wagner) Ah... no time for sleeping now, Richard! (to the others) He's narcoleptic..er... let me get some water (ducks out. The henchmen return their attention to Brahms.)
Brahms: uh... I dont know where I put the letters? (tucks hair behind ear, generally tries to look like a 7-year-old girl)
Carlo: not good enough, shorty...
Brahms: Oh... (pouts) then let me read a last verse from the good book (flips pages, reads solemnly) "Jesus called the children to him and said 'Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of god belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not recive the kingdom of god like a little child will never enter it.'" (Giovanni sniffles, wipes nose)
Lucca: I love that passage...
Brahms: ah... yes, let me pass unto the kingdom as a child.. (looks heaven-ward) absolved of sin... and before I go, as a musician, I must sing -- JOIN me, brothers, in a hymn of praise (starts singing) A mighty fortress is our god! (others join in beautiful four-part harmony. elsewhere in the house, Bach comes out of the kitchen, looks up in confusion)
Bach: Who's up there?
Zacara(shrugs): .... They like to sing.
Liszt(exits upstairs bathroom with a pot of water in hand): What in!! (heads down hall to the room, walks over to Wagner suspiciously) what's going on?
(The song has ended; they are standing in silent awe... except Giovanni, who is crying softly. Liszt stands in amazement - the pot tips slightly and dribbles water onto Wagner's crotch - Brahms lunges forward and grabs the pot)
Brahms: It's not the river jordan, brothers, but let this water wash away our tears! (makes a sweeping gesture - the others kneel.)
Liszt: What are you fools DOING! Going to sit there and let him beat you with the pot, are you??
(They look back to Brahms, who is trying to do his best impression of a Precious Moments doll.)
Liszt(grumbles): you people know better....
Giuliano: wait a minute.. (starts to reach for violin case)
Brahms: ... (sweeps pot in arc, throwing water in everyone's face)
Giuliano: MY VIOLIN!!! RUINED!!!! TOWELS!! SCALPEL!!!
(General pandemonium ensues - Carlo, Giovanni and Giuliano stumble into each other trying to get up, Liszt yelling at them all the while; Brahms makes a dash for the door; Lucca sits in the middle of the confusion staring after him licking the water from his lips)
Liszt(notices Wagner again, kneels next to him) Oh for God's sake, Richard -the trouble I go through for YOUR letters!
Carlo: Lucca, lets go (beats him in shoudler)
(Lucca staggers to his feet, falls into Giuliano who is rushing about trying to find towels to mop up the violin)
Liszt(shakes head): Ok, last time I ask Antonio for help...
Wagner(sits up, rubs forehead): oh, oh, Franz.. do carry me to the bed.
Liszt: CARRY YOURSELF! (storms out, suddenly sticks head back into doorway) And get your own damned letters back!
Wagner(propped on elbows): What.... what is this ingratitude? Am I to forge my way through the bristled paths of this world alone? (looks around groggily) Has there been an ice age? What is this watery grave? Why am I wet????
Back downstairs, Hildegard is gathering housemates in the living room, hoping to make an announcement about team building, and possibly to recruit some "goats" for her morality play. She is now leading Ives, Strozzi, and Bach through the foyer when Brahms comes running down the stairs - halfway down he hurtles over the banister - scrambles to his feet and dashes out the back door..
Bach: What in God's name!? First the chorale singing -- (three big Italian men in tuxedos charge down the stairs) -- WHAT?!
Hildegard: NO USE OF FIREARMS IN THE HOUSE OR ON THE PROPERTY!
Giovanni: sorry, ma'am. (drops violin case; runs out back door)
Strozzi: ANTONIO!
Zacara(appears in foyer): yes?
Strozzi: What is going on? Did you sic the mafia on Johannes?
Zacara: Madam, the mafia is not "sicced" on anyone.
Hildegard: Good, Antonio, you're here - you can be a goat.
Zacara(aside to Strozzi): Although the mafia may take an interest in any bovine developments in my future..
Hildegard(waves them on): We need to have a house meeting.
Bach: does this have anything to do with the mafia running through our halls?
Hildegard: NO.
(She leads them to the TV room, where Mussorgsky is waiting with a particularly offended expression.)
Muss: Now whats all this are you livestock rearing already?
Hildegard: Modest! We need to talk about the future of this household! It's in grave danger.
Bach: Apparently we're being attacked by the Italian mafia....
Zacara: This has nothing to do with the mafia!
(slowly Liszt, Mozart, and the rest of the household trickles in, mills about waiting for an announcement. Hildegard looks around in appraisal. )
Hildegard: hm... Pyotr's out... Ludwig is missing in action again.... Apparently Johannes is ... occupied... Is there anyone else ? Richard!
(Wagner wanders in rubbing his forehead,)
Wagner: Pardon me, I was not informed that the People's Council had called a general assembly in our living room.... I had to change my pants.
Hildegard: Well, yes, Richard, but -- Where's Robert now? (hand to head)
(Schumann sticks his head into the room, looks around wide-eyed.)
Schumann: ?
Hildegard: Oh, there you are. Join us - we are discussing household community-building strategies.
Schumann(raises both eyebrows): I am not free. (ducks out again)
(Hildegard sighs - theres sudden laughing from the piano room - Schumann and some unidentified female voice. Everyone freezes and turns....)
Strozzi: Did.... Robert bring his date home and ... no one noticed?
Bach: With the mafia singing chorales upstairs who could notice?
Hildegard: Well - well, invite her in. We'll have no more of these mystery girlfriends.
Wagner: Hear hear!
(Liszt steps out - brings them both back.)
Liszt: Ah, allow me to introduce you to our housemates.. (he goes around the room, everyone seems pleased to meet Clara, who is not at all intimidated by the large group. Mozart even offers her his perch on the sofa next to drunken Mussorgsky, Schumann sits at her feet. With this finally settled, Hildegard returns the topic to team building.)
Hildegard: Tomorrow is the weekend -- we should devote a good part of the day to building trust and friendship among us. If we dont work together how can this household continue to function?
Liszt: I agree -- however, I have a date tomorrow.
Bach: I have church.
Zacara: Work.
Hildegard: er.. how about in the morning?
Bach: I suppose I could manage that.
Liszt: That's fine.
Hildegard: Ok... let's plan to be awake and out by 10'oclock.
Mussorgsky: what?!
Mozart: I'm not sure I approve of this... 10's early on a Saturday.
Bach: The day's half shot by 10!
Schumann: Half 10!
Mozart: No, that's worse!
Hildegard: 9:30 it is. We can play some appropriate games.
Mozart: Pool?
Strozzi: What... does team building entail?
Hildegard: Oh, just games that make you think about helping others..
Zacara: Sounds like second grade to me.
Hildegard: Don't worry - some of us need it. And Clara, you're welcome to join us..
Clara: I suppose there's no way to get Robert out of it...
Schumann: Ah but with your guiding light no trial is too taxing..
Mozart: Awwwww!!
Strozzi: (chuckles): cut that out --
(Suddenly the front door slams open and Tchaikovsky blusters in, bag and dripping umbrella in hand. He storms right in to the TV room with the others and dumps his stuff on the floor)
Tchaik: RUGHHHHHHHHH!!!
Strozzi: Oh no, Pyotr - what happened?
Tchaik: DISASTER - BUTTER -- I CANT COOK!!
Mozart: hey, maybe you're straight after all!
Tchaik: NOOOoooo (sits in a heap, glowers) I couldn't concentrate.... It's my fault.. no, it's the music... damn him...No.... (head in hands) Aghhhh!
Liszt: I take it the lady wasn't ...in good spirits?
Tchaik: Now she tells me she's going on tour for the next two months! Out of the country!
Hildegard: What!
Ives: Oh, that's a woman for you - lead you along and then- (Mussorgsky beats him in the arm)
Mussorgsky: ah thats enoughof that
Hildegard: Thank you, Modest.
Tchaik: She's leaving me like this - what -- With YURI... AGHHHHH! (hops up, storms out again)
Strozzi: Ok, damage control (exit. Liszt, Hildegard, and Mussorgsky follow along)
Zacara: Well, well. They'll straighten that out.. Poor Pyotr. He needs his own string quartet... (sits in spot left by Muss) All right, the remote's ours!
Mozart: Excellent.
Clara(to Schumann): I don't know why you need team building... everyone seems to get along fine...
Schumann(whispers): An arch conspiracy....
Wagner(rubs hands together): So then.. in spite of Fate's best efforts, the day ends with just desserts served.... I hope...
Main Street: Zacara's friends are wandering in the rain, though they pause every now and then to exchange confused looks....
Giovanni: So....I think he lost us.
Carlo(dripping): Eh......(looks into the shop window they are standing before. There are a wide array of desserts; its the German bakery) mm... mangiamo.
Giuliano: Ok.
Cut to backyard of the house. It's still raining. A faint line of light shines out from the dogloo under the tree.
Beethoven(cramped up, scowling with music notebook): I cant believe youre running from the mafia.
Brahms(cramped up, scowling with flashlight): damn it, Ludwig..
Beethoven: I think theyre gone..
Brahms: mm.. cant be sure..
Beethoven: you need to get your own dogloo....