The Yard Sale
Early Afternoon. Ludwig van Beethoven is sitting beneath the tree in the backyard, composition notebook propped in his lap. Though this may seem the idyllic return to Nature, inside Beethoven's mind is a raging debate concerning no less a significant personage than his Immortal Beloved.
"But I haven't known her that long"
"Long enough"
"What will she say if I take her to The Palms?"
"She'll know I'm serious!"
"What will she say when I take her to The Palms and can't afford half the dinner!"
"So it boils down to this, does it? Just a matter of money? Well I'll be DAMNED to hell if I let some petty concern like MONEY keep me from taking her to the best restaurant in town for her birthday!!!"
Beethoven stands, features twisted in determined scowl. He scans the yard - there is crazy Schumann sitting at the edge of the porch, apparently meditating. Beethoven approaches....
Beethoven: Robert.
Schumann(looks up): My dear Percival..
Beethoven(blinks): uh - I need money.
Schumann(tilts head in direction of Hildegard's herb garden): Inquiries will be best received if addressed to the amphibian statuary.
Beethoven(looks): .... I don't know how the frog is going to help.. (picks up ornamental stone frog from garden) ... unless... I Sell it! Brilliant -- YARD SALE! Help me, Robert - we can collect stuff to sell.
Schumann(head still tilted): Hamsters?
Beethoven: ..... Maybe I'll ask Johannes.
Soon - Cut to den, Brahms is snoozing on couch; Beethoven beats him in side.
Beethoven: Wake up, lazy.
Brahms: (grumbles)
Beethoven: Do you want money?
Brahms: (holds out hand)
Beethoven: No. You have to help. We are having a yard sale. Get some stuff to sell.
Brahms(sits up, rubs eyes): I don't have anything.
Beethoven: Well get someone else's stuff.
Brahms: Ok. (They go into the foyer, look for stuff; Brahms picks up a table lamp.) What about this?
Beethoven: What - no, we NEED that.
Brahms: I just woke up, Ludwig. What are you selling?
Beethoven(holds up frog): This.
Brahms: What! Who's going to buy that! No one needs it - At least with a lamp there's a chance someone might want to use it.
Beethoven(eyes narrow): Some people buy things based on aesthetic value.
Brahms: It's a stone frog, Ludwig!
Beethoven(defensively): Yeah... it's nice. It's weighty - look... It.. could hold open a door (opens front door, sets down stone frog before it. The door slowly slides shut as Brahms watches in pained skepticism. Pause.) Maybe not a front door..
Brahms: Why don't you sell some of your compositions?
Beethoven: Compromise my Art for the sake of petty cash! Are you MAD!!?
Mozart(head out of kitchen doorway): If I were you, Ludwig, I'd be more offended that he made the mental leap from stone frogs to your compositions!
Brahms: There's someone who's not afraid to make money off his music.
Mozart: Oh, if only I made more! But really - what's all this talk of selling and money? It's not very 'Workless Bohemian' of you!
Beethoven: We're having a yard sale.
Mozart: Since when do you need money?
Brahms: Yeah, what's this sudden entrepreneurial spirit?
Beethoven(shifty-eyed): ....
Both: GIRLFRIEND!!
Brahms: Bleeding you dry! Of course!!
Beethoven: Shut up - she enriches my Soul. (Brahms roll eyes)
Mozart: Oh, but -- I knew one like that. I thought she was the One. We would tour the world together - I'd write beautiful music for her beautiful voice - (takes breath, eyes alight with Hope and Joy ) - and then she dumped me. (uncomfortable silence)
Brahms: Uh, I didn't know that you ever had a girlfriend..
Mozart(cheerfully): Yeah, well, I didn't want to make you feel like a complete loser.
Beethoven(amused): Ok, let's sell some stuff. Anything you can find that people will pay money for.
Mozart: Ok, we are getting cuts of the profit, yes?
Beethoven: yeah.
Mozart: Excellent - you guys get some card tables to put up out front, and I'll get some STUFF. (exeunt)
Mozart runs to his room, begins rummaging through the closet, throwing coats, handkerchiefs and other objects into a pile on the floor as he searches.
Mozart: Ah...silk scarf (holds up neon blue) niiiiiice. Ok, check... let's see..
(Enter Hildegard and Tchaik, embroiled in discussion)
Tchaik: Well, I'm not a believer in long distance relationships - and if she doesn't even have the courtesy to suggest-- WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WOLFGANG!
Mozart(turns around like guilty child): Hi.
Hildegard: Is this a search for "incriminating evidence"?
Mozart: No, we're having a yard sale. Just looking for some things for the cause.
Tchaik: MY things!
Mozart: I was going to ask you, of course.
Tchaik(frowns): Well, I could stand to get rid of some of this stuff; here, let me help. You can sell it, long as you keep some of the profit for me. I might join you guys later..
Hildegard: Shouldn't we be doing something more constructive?
In the pool room, Strozzi is practicing the new Hildegard music when Beethoven finds her. He waits respectfully for her to finish.
Beethoven: Uh, Barbara?
Strozzi: Hi Ludwig
Beethoven: We need your help. We are tryng to raise money for the hosuehold with a yardsale-
Strozzi: GREAT idea!!
Beethoven: Well, currently it's me, Johannes, and Wolfgang... so,... uh.. we could use your help in selling stuff..You know, you've got the charm..
Strozzi: Oh sure, whatever you say, Ludwig - I also have a ton of stuff that needs to be unloaded! (she hops up and heads off to collect)
Soon she and Beethoven join the others outside. They have already set up two tables covered in white cloths. Now they are setting up items on the tables..
Strozzi and Beethoven have brought normal yard sale things -- old, tacky shirts, a pair of old roller skates, a bike helmet, and of course the stone garden frog.
Robert Schumann has apparently decided to join the yardsale after all; His part of table #1 has a strange array of objects: a bad watercolor painting, a bowl of cornpuffs, a twig with a tag hanging off it "Cupid's Dart 2006: Unfinished"
Mozart has been more opportunistic: lots of Tchaikovsky-approved stuff, as well as one of his myriad hair care products ("he can't miss ONE!"), Wagner's mauve beret, some of Ives' expensive fountain pens, old books found under Mussorgsky's sofa, an unexplained AC DC album, a miscellaneous pair of handcuffs, and several back editions of TV Guide ( "They're vintage!").
Brahms has brought some decorative items, "glass perfume bottles," an umbrella stolen from the entryway, and someone's forgotten pair of galoshes. He dumps the goods on the table and sits perfunctorily in one of the chairs.
Brahms(folds arms): I hate yard sales.
Strozzi(surveying): Ok, we need price tags and a money box with some cash.. (eyes widen at the pair of handcuffs) - ah - these aren't for sale (grabs them, goes to house) I'll be back..
Mozart: Oh gosh, I thought they were Pyotr's! haha!
Before long they are ready to sell. Mozart surveys the neighborhood - a small child on a tricycle is coming down the street.
Mozart: YOUNG SIR! COME SAMPLE OUR FINE WARES!
Child: uhhhhh... (keeps peddling)
Schumann: CORN PUFFS, MY MAN!
(No one for another five minutes; Brahms begins dozing in his chair; Beethoven kicks it)
Strozzi: Guys? Maybe we should put a sign on the main road?
Beethoven: Good, you can do that, Johannes.
Brahms: (grumbles, goes to get stuff)
Ten Minutes Later: the front door opens and Mussorgsky comes toddling out with a bottle of vodka
Muss: Hey now
Mozart: Ah, Modest - join us, we are raising money for the starving composers fund.
Muss: lets see a yardsale (he inspects the tables - picks up an old tome) Heyyy.. this is my history ofthe russian court volume 7!! you cnat sell this.. (tucks it under the table)
Mozart: what about some of your secret family stash of vodka?
Muss: noooo way
Strozzi: He only uses that on special occassions, like when he is getting the Women's Club drunk.
Muss: good idea.. ill call Mrs Hickman.. yep... shell bring the whole group over..
Mozart: Brilliant! Find some junk to sell them!
Muss: get some doilies..
Strozzi: What will you tell them?
Mozart: Buy our stuff -starving composers fund, a good cause!
Strozzi: Try "Save the Music Fundraiser."
Mozart: Oh yes, that's bound to appeal to the old ladies!
Muss: check. they can meet Hildegard woman composer par excellence (goes into house to call)
(Soon Hildegard returns with Mussorgsky)
Hildegard: I heard I'm needed: publicity.
Beethoven: find something to sell. this is a yardsale
Hildegard: hmmm some fresh herbs from my garden should work.. The marjoram has just peaked! Of course the basil's good...The ashwagandha isn't full-grown yet, unfortunately. The Balm of Gilead I'll have to check on...ooh, and the sweet woodruff should be perfect!
Mozart: Right, you and your poisonous nightshade and love potion ingredients.. yep..
Hildegard: I resent that, Wolfgang. (exit)
Mozart: Heheh, only because it's true.
(Soon Strozzi, Muss and Hildegard are in action, with a sign in front of the tables that reads 'SAVE THE MUSIC FUNDRAISER" and Brahms returns to report that he too has put up a sign at the end of the street.)
Mozart: We have too many people selling - some of you get out in front of the tables and mill around like youre going to buy something.
Beethoven: Check. (gets up, hands behind back, looks at wares on table in front of Schumann) ... uh, Robert, is this a Happy Meal toy? (picks up plastic thing)
Schumann: That is Admiral Horatio Nelson.
Mozart: Barbara, Hannes, go stand out near the sign - youre the pretty people, you'll attract attention.
Strozzi: I thought I was supposed to sell stuff!
Beethoven(same time): She's selling. She has people skills
Mozart: I think she'll sell more out there
Brahms(at the same time): .... I'm pretty?
Hildegard: WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART!
Mozart: Heh heh heh
Strozzi: I, uh, I'll take that as a compliment, Wolfy (winks)
Brahms: (folds arms, pouts)
Mozart: Fine, fine, I'LL GO OUT THERE! (hops up, runs out toward street)
Beethoven: What is he doing?? Idiot.
Muss: Well who cares, here comes mrs hickman.
(Luckily for our housemates, Mrs Hickman and her husband are finally coming.)
Strozzi: Maybe we should sell some of Gustav's begonias..
MrsHickman: Why hello, Modest! Thank you for inviting us to help the cause! I called some of the others. They should be over shortly - have you met my husband Ray? (etc)
(Meanwhile, Mozart is improvising a samba on the streetcorner, waving to people to come to the sale)
Beethoven: WHAT ARE YOU DOING - DO YOU WANT TO DRIVE PEOPLE AWAY!?
Mozart: QUIET! I HAVE SUPERIOR MARKETING SENSE! (switches into a foxtrot)
Brahms(still pouting, to Strozzi): I'm not pretty, am I?
Strozzi: uh... no..
Brahms: whatever, it's nap time (goes back into house)
MrsHickman(to Strozzi): Do you live here? Because if you do, you should consider joining the Women's Club-
Strozzi: oh - uh - I actually just -
Muss: Mrs Hickman I would love to show you the, uh.. the artwork by my housemate Robert.. (draws her toward Schumann's table)
As the afternoon progresses, more people do come to the yard sale, including most of the women's club. At one point Mahler drives up to his house - gets out, observes in consternation before darting into the house.
Strozzi(pouts): Doesn't Gustav want to visit our yard sale?
Mozart: Oh he's probably rushing around to something. Here, I'll go samba dance; that'll do it! (heads to curb)
Woman(at Strozzi): This is a lovely silk scarf
Strozzi: Oh yes - Indeed! and I can tell you it's been hardly used! My housemate would sadly tell you that h- she has no outfits that match it.
(Meanwhile Liszt is driving home. He starts to turn onto their street and notices a figure capering madly on the corner.)
Liszt: Wolfgannnngggg!
Mozart: Yard sale! Yardverkauf! Vente de bric-a-brac! Vendita di iarda!
Liszt: oh God..
(he drives up, parks... )
Liszt: Hi everyone
Everyone: FRANZ!
(One of the younger members of the women's club runs up "Franz Liszt! Can I have your autograph!?" (she shoves a pieceof paper at him)
Liszt: Ah, well -you catch me by surprise, dear lady - I don't even have any -- (Beethoven is standing there, holding a pen)
Beethoven: Charge $5.
Liszt(appalled): What! And disappoint a fan? (signs with flourish) Though I suppose I could contribute to our "Save the Music Fundraiser" somehow.... (pauses) AH! A kissing booth!
Various Women: OOOH!
Beethoven: "Booth" is right - Hannes, Robert - get him a booth. (looks around) Where the hell is he..?
Muss: I got it dont trouble yourself (disappears into house. Soon he returns with a TV tray and a pink bed sheet (obviously from W's room). He throws the bedsheet over the lowest branch on the oak tree, so that it hangs down at the half. He sets up the tv tray underneath.
Muss: ok go to it
(Liszt has grabbed a blank sheet of paper and is using Beethoven's pen to write in flowing calligraphy: "KISSES. ONE DOLLAR. F. Liszt." Schumann and Beethoven bring over chairs. Soon a long line - of ladies young and old - forms at the front of the yard.)
Midafternoon: Beethoven frowns, goes back to backyard, jostles Brahms, who is napping.
Beethoven: It's your turn.
Brahms: huh?
Beethoven: You're hopeless. Maybe if you didn't get up at 5am everyday you wouldn't spend all afternoon sleeping!
Brahms: Morning is the best time for working - I mean, staring off into space and contemplating my sad existence like a good little Workless Bohemian..!
Beethoven: Enough whining: You're covering me on the yard sale. Table 1.
Brahms: all right, half the proceeds go to me.
Beethoven: Whatever. I can't socialize anymore with Modest's old women..
Brahms goes through house, almost collides with Tchaikovsky who is coming out of the kitchen with a beer.
Brahms: You Russians..
Tchaik: Don't start.
Brahms: (pause) Do you think more people would come if we had alcohol?
Tchaik: What - for the yard sale? I guess, as long as you don't give it to any underaged kids. Just what we need (heads down hall, complaining) You know they're lurking around just waiting to get you in trouble anyway .. 'what - free alcohol? where?' damn kids...
Brahms goes back outside, just in time to witness Listz falling out of the kissing booth chair - covered in lipstick--
Liszt: Whoa - that's at least $5, ma'am!
Muss: all right allright keep yourdamned clothes on
Strozzi: hahah!
(Brahms takes Beethoven's seat at the table next to Schumann, where people are milling about. A man is talking to his girlfriend about the Schumann watercolor painting "The surrealism of Magritte but the soulfulness of Monet!" Next to him, Mussorgsky is trying to explain "Cupid's Dart" to one of the women's club members.)
Mussorgsky: Ah... see... this is a piece of realist art.. (The old woman looks skeptical)
Woman: Isn't that just a tree branch? (adjusts her glasses)
Mussorgsky: it looks just likea tree branch doesnt it??
Woman(touching twig): Yes, I would swear it was a real one!
Mussorgsky: yeah the artists ...art.. I believe the material is.. uh..paper mache?
Schumann(proudly): Magic.
Woman: Why is it called "Cupid's Dart?"
Mussorgsky(before Schumann can answer) : Nature!... Nature is what inspired him- and true Love.
Woman: And why is it unfinished?
Schumann: Twas the dart that struck its artist. He is not capable of molding its sad limbs after it has affected him so.
Woman: That's sweet.. How much is it?
Mussorgsky: twenty-fi--
Schumann: Two Hundred Dollars.
Woman: WHAT?
Muss(beats him in arm): youll have to excuse my housemat--
Schumann(wide eyed earnest): Oh, BUT - dear lady -- no amount can cure the pangs it has brought about!
Woman: Well, it is for a good cause... Let me get my husband (wanders off)
Muss(looks at Schumann, who is dew-eyed now): Uh...
Schumann: Tis indeed a worthy cause..
(Meanwhile, one of the few men milling about comes up to Brahms, who is trying to amuse himself by setting up the McDonald's Happy Meal toys in a tortoise formation)
Schenker: Hello Johannes.
Brahms(looks up): Hi Heinrich
Schenker(leans over): See that fellow with the mustache down at yonder table? (points to a tubby bumbling fellow, about 30)
Brahms: Yea..?
Schenker: He is my friend Eduard - he despises the writings of your housemate Richard Wagner that are always appearing in the newspaper.
Brahms: oh ...well..
Schenker: I told him about your Art. He is very interested...
Brahms: Well, I don't have anything up for sale today. You know I like to ... work things out before putting it before the public..
Schenker: I understand completely my friend , but -- (calls over) ach, Eduard, come meet Mr. Brahms whom I was telling you about--
Brahms: (completely disinterested, looking at birds in tree)
Schenker(whispers as man approaches): He is anxious to make your acquaintance, Johannes. You know, he is the music critic for the Free Press!
Brahms(lightbulb goes on above head- he suddenly hops up- all charm and diplomacy, hand outstretched toward Hanslick): Ah, Mr. Hanslick - the famous critic condescends to visit a yard sale?
Hanslick(smiles, shakes hand): Oh hardly - You must be Johannes Brahms?
Brahms: I am, and honored to meet you. I find it refreshing that some people with confidence in their writing abilities should take up the pen on behalf of those of us who .. are too timid.
Hanslick(lights up): oh, you have read my writings?
Brahms: I am familiar with your ideas - on .. Beauty in Music, yes? I find it an appropriate response against the rantings of my housemate Richard..
Hanslick: Really? Well, that's very flattering that creative artists read my humble aesthetic philosophizing!
Schenker: Yes, but is it not a Grand Irony that one who is so devoted to your aesthetic ideals should be lodged in the same house with that odious Wagner!?
(Hildegard looks over from other table, her customer now gone - questioningly at Brahms; he shrugs; Schenker is still talking)
Schenker: You still must hear his music, Eduard, it is Exactly what you prize in the art! The play of pure form - and every phrase, section, PIECE - as perfectly structured as the basic governing Ursatz upon which it is based - it is the Music of the Spheres!
Brahms(looking appropriately modest): I only know what I write - if only I had the philosopher's mind to hear it as you theorists do...
Hildegard(to Mozart): What is going ON over there? Some weird cult forming around Johannes???
Mozart(grins): Just networking.. he's almost as good as I am. If he went out more, he would be.
Brahms(going on): I hardly dare put any of my latest compositions up for public consumption -- certainly I could show you some sketches at a later private viewing -- But, Mr. Hanslick, knowing your great love for my housemate Richard... (pulls out letters from coat) I might considering sharing some documents which may appeal to you out of.. sheer intrinsic interest value...
(Meanwhile, two teenaged boys approach Hildegard and begin inspecting her herb collection.)
Teenager1: Dude, is this weed?
Hildegard: Ah, No. That's Stevia Leaf.
Teenager2: Is this weed?
Hildegard: ...no...! Do I look like a pot smoker to you!?
(The boys look at her - with her snood hair net, long flowing sleeves and greyish army pants)
Teenager2: yeah...totally
Hildegard: These herbs are all good for your health!
Teenager: so's pot
Hildegard: Will you kindly leave the premisis!?
Mozart(grins): Nah, I'll deal with these kids. Look, guys, you want some real psychedelic experience?? (The teens look over in interest; Mozart picks up Wagner's mauve silk beret from the table) Do you know what this is?
Teenager1: Uh, a hat.
Mozart: Not just any hat - the hat of a guy who's going to be rich and famous and he's already InSANE.
Teenager2: Dude, why would we want some guy's hat?
Mozart: A) because This Hat has sat upon the head of Genius AND B) Because after this season at the opera, you can sell this hat for like, 100$ -- no sweat. I promise.
Teenager1: Whoa - why?
Mozart(as if revealing a grand secret): BECAUSE it belongs to RICHARD WAGNER!!
Teen2: uh, I dont know who that is.
Mozart: He is a composer toiling in silent obscurity now. Wait 6 months, I promise.
Teen1: Actually, the hat's kinda kickass anyway. How much is it?
Mozart(puts hat on backwards): It can be yours for just 20$
Teen1: What no way!
Mozart: I KNOW - DIRT CHEAP! PURE SILK!
Teen1: No! Whatever-
Teen2: Who's gonna pay 20$ for a hat?
Mozart(spinning hat around on finger): Fine, fine - miss this opportunity to make an easy 80$ (frowns then suddenly throws the hat onto the other kid's head) Because this hat belongs on a pot head like yours! It's not even a HAT - it's a frickin' BERET!
Teen1: Ok, man. $10.
Mozart: 15 -
Teen1: 12
Mozart: SOLD!!
(Soon the kids are gone and Mozart is doing a victory dance around the table)
Mozart: Awwwwwwwwwww-Who's Awesome? Oh yeah - YOU are, Wolfy, uh huh!!
Brahms(joins him in front of table): What - why are you awesome?
Mozart: Because I, Johann Wolfgang Chrysostum Gottlieb-that's-Amadeus-in-Latin-thank-you-suckers Mozart have just now sold Richard Wagner's Mauve Silk Beret to some teenaged, grade-A crackhead for Twelve - count 'em - Twelve Dollars! (fingers through the one dollar bills)
Brahms: Wow, that's impressive. I just sold digital photos of his millinery letters to the top music critic of the Free Press for a mere $35 and a year's supply of ground coffee.
(Mozart lights up with an expression of amazement and utter joy - seizes Brahms in a bear hug)
Mozart: God Bless you, Johannes Brahms! This is such a beautiful Moment -- brings tears to my eyes! (steps back, watery-eyed as if moved by the Divine Spirit; sniffles) the sucker won't know what hit him...
Brahms(shrugs): For my part, I should probably invest in my own dogloo soon....or a one-way ticket to Baden-Baden..
Mozart(wiping eyes, still smiling): It's true. He'll murder you when he finds out.
Brahms: yeah... but sometimes Art trumps Death.
Mozart: Jawohl.
...
Later, Wagner pulls into the driveway amidst the afternoon yard sale nonsense.
Wagner: What? Carnivale come early? (notices the tables, price tags) A yard sale?? How despisedly capitalist.
(He comes up to the tables and inspects; shows special interest in front of Mozart - picks up a neon yellow-green scarf.)
Wagner: What! this is my silk scarf!
Mozart(grinning): Yes, well, you have nothing in your wardrobe that matches that.
Wagner: FIE! Of course I do - my satin pink overcoat with the white silk shirt makes an excellent, if eye-catching ensemble--
Brahms: You and Pyotr should start a fashion club -
Wagner: Quiet, you -- (to Mozart) And Furthermore, $15 in no way approaches even a generously LOW estimation of this scarf's value!
Mozart: Well I think it's perfectly reasonable given its context - I mean, I just sold your mauve silk beret for $12...
Wagner: WHAT!!!
Mozart(grins): I would add that the young man in question truly appreciates the value of your colorful headgear..
Wagner(fuming): Why you.... scoundrel!!! (charges at him; Mozart runs around behind tables and into the house, Wagner in hot pursuit)
Mozart tears up the staircase - Wagner trips on the bottom step and falls with a smack.
Wagner: CONFOUNDED!!
Mozart: Ehehehhee! Let's get the camcorder! Its first time in use since its rehabilitation!! (disappears down hall.
Enter Tchaik from den, nursing another beer)
Tchaik: What are you buffoons doing?
Wagner(adjusting his beret): The Foul Fiend has made short work of my mauve beret, for which he must needs pay.. (charges up stairs)
Tchaik: Ok, maybe I'd better go outside now... (exit. Tchaik arrives in the front yard to be greeted by a huge mass of people - browsing, negotiating, bickering, gossiping; He finds an empty seat next to Hildegard, who is expounding upon the benefits of St John's Wort to a confused-looking teen.)
Teen: Dude, I just want pot
Hildegard: WHAT-
Tchaik: Go to the other table.
(Teen shrugs, leaves.)
Hildegard: that's not very good salesmanship, Pyotr.
Tchaik(smirks): I don't think he was going to buy anything from you, Hildegard.. (his attention is caught by Mahler, who runs out of his house, hops in the car, and speeds off) There goes Mahler again. Honestly, I don't know what Barbara sees in him.
(Hildegard is about to answer, but they are both distracted by a large white truck blaring obnoxious children's music)
Tchaik: Oh God, and there goes the ice cream truck purveying at once both child obesity and noise pollution.
Hildegard: Well said...
(Enter Mozart on the scene, camcorder rolling)
Mozart: This is WAM-live, reporting to you from Our Front Yard where a raging Yard Sale is in progress! Our hero -- that would be yours truly -- has escaped the clutches of the enraged Wagner, and now films, for posterity's sake, this glorious artist's project - oomph! (is jostled by a clumsy customer)
Man: oh, excuse me -
Mozart(films him): Hi! What would you like to say for home-viewing audience?
Man(flattered): oh - uh - I'd just like to say that - I think this is a great idea; I mean, people getting out there and selling stuff for a good cause - musicians, right? (Mozart gives him the thumbs up) Yeah, that's like - I mean, people working on their own to save the arts - and it's great that you're filming this because it's encouraging to give them good publicity - that's what they deserve.
Mozart: And what are you purchasing to help the musicians today, sir?
Man: uh - I'm still browsing, actually -
Mozart; Oh, haha! Well, I'll let you get back to that, thank you!
Man: Thanks!
Mozart(slow pan of front yard): Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's a fine day in the neighborhood. Everyone's getting out to support the cause - whatever that may be! (he scans towards road) OH no! It's Charlie Ives on his steady approach home , safe now from the wild, free-range hoards of insurance agents with whom he usually fraternizes!! (Mozart continues as Ives gets out of his car and approaches, briefcase in hand) What will he do when he finds his home territory invaded by bands of hungry customers? When he finds his fellow housemates actually doing something "constructive"?! When he finds --
Ives(furious at table 2): WHOSE BRILLIANT IDEA WAS IT TO SELL MY SILVER FOUNTAIN PEN COLLECTION HERE!!!?
Mozart(zooms in): Oh look at that poetry, ladies and gentlemen, what an expression! Could Da Vinci, even in his study of the Ugly, ever conceive of such a thing?
Mussorgsky(to Ives): oh calm down theres nothing more detrimentalto a yardsale than an insurance agent upinarms about PENS!
Ives: Is this YOUR idea of a good joke, you drunken slob?
(some of the customers are backing away)
Muss(one raised eyebrow): Ill haveyou know the womens club members are here..
Ives: What is that - a threat? Think they'll protect you like they did last time?!
Strozzi: Guys? Can you keep it down?
Muss: Look theres no reason tobe all upset well just take them away (starts to pick up pens)
Ives: Dont - I can take care of my own pens!! (lashes out at Mussorgsky, smacks his hand)
Hildegard: Masculinist pig! Can't you settle your arguments in - (Mussorgsky has folded arms in disapproval)
Muss: You were responsible for wasting my vodka that night we played bridge....
Ives(eyes narrow): I see - a petty play for Revenge!!!
Muss: No but if it were itd be a long time coming for you and completely appropriate
Ives(fuming): So this is it now - the alcoholic retardate is going to teach the Working Man a lesson!? How's THAT for a morality play!?
Hildegard: WHAT--
(more and more people are leaving; Schumann looks over, disgruntled)
Schumann: How garbled doth sing the electric canary.
Ives: What in the sam hill is THAT supposed to mean??
(Schumann starts to usher the women's club members away.)
Hildegard: Now I know it's difficult for you Charles, but you should try to control your emotions -- this is not about any revenge scheme or play for power (she starts picking up the pens) You can just have your pens back and-
Ives(swipes them from her): Damn it, now this is just what I don't need - come home from a hard day's work, find you buffoons trying to sell my silver fountain pen collection, then have to listen to these bloody feminazis tell me how to run my life! You ought to be inside cleaning and not bossing hardworking men around - I'm not going to take it!!
Hildegard(fuming): Then take THIS!! (PUNCH! Ives stumbles back, wipes his lip)
Ives: WHY YOU-! (the remaining women's club members look over in horror as Ives swings his counterpunch at Hildegard, but Mussorgsky -- in a rare show of speed - seizes his arm midair and pulls him back)
Muss: hey now you deserved that now letitgo!
(Ives swings furiously -- general fracas ensues. Hildegard pummels Ives from behind, who is having a hard time defending himself from Muss while clutching his pens in one
hand...Tchaik watches appalled, Strozzi and Schumann are trying to appease other customers; Brahms observes quietly, arms folded; Mozart is circling about with the camera, his narration sometimes audible over the swearing...)
Mozart: SUNDAY SUNDAY SUNDAY! .... STEEL CAGE MATCH! ..... oh man,
there are folding chairs around ... MODEST, USE THE CHAIR!
Ives: WHY -!!!
(Suddenly Liszt tumbles out of his booth, his patrons having vanished in the
melee; his shirt and face are completely besmirched with pink and red.)
Liszt: What...what is going on? GUYS, LOVE NOT WAR! OHhh! (tries to break up the fight, is shoved into the next table - items are catapulted as he and the table crash to the ground; Brahms remains sitting and smirking like the lone remaining tower in a siege.)
Tchaik(removing himself from melee): This is out of control - PEOPLE!! What are you DOING!?
Hildegard(beating Ives in the back): IN-CON-SID-ER-ATE !!!-- CHAU-VI-NIST--- !!!! (smack)
Ives(trying to shake her off): UNFAIRLY OUTNUMBERED!!
(Suddenly Wagner and Beethoven storm out of the house.)
Wagner: CONFOUNDED !! FRIENDS - WHAT IS THIS HORRIFIC DISPLAY?! WHERE IS YOUR SENSE OF COMMUNAL GIVING, OF THE OPTIMISTIC FUTURE OF MANKIND -- OF BROTHERLY LOVE?!
Hildegard: BROTHERLY!!? MANKIND!!? (kicks Ives)
(Beethoven says nothing; storms into the fight and pulls Ives and Hildegard apart. He scowls.)
Wagner: Friends, cease this unholy altercation! Why what poor show wou-- (continues talking, no one listens)
Strozzi(returns, customers now gone): Ok, is it safe?
Brahms: Modest has a mean left uppercut.
Ives(glaring at Hildegard): Well you're just lucky your gay boyfriend was here to defend you! talk about CHIVALRY! (starts to go to house, Hildegard is too furious to speak, but Mussorgsky calls after him, same unfazed tone as before)
Muss: now youknow it was justa kneejerk reaction youdidnneed my help youcan fightbout as wellasyou can holdyour liquor
Ives(confused and angry): Well - I -- YES! (storms into house. Pause as the scene settles back into remnant of reality)
Strozzi: uh... tell me he pays more than the rest of us do for rent each month...
Beethoven: We should kick him out.
Hildegard; That's right! I don't see why we need to have such bad spiritual atmosphere just because of one bad seed!
Mozart(showing destruction): Ohhh the yard sale ends in tragedy. Table two and Franz have taken a mighty fall... Robert's extra paintings are crushed... the kissing booth - that fair place of sensual bliss - now revealed to be nothing more than a tv tray and bunch of old lawn chairs... oh how our dreams are all delusions of unsatisfied minds... WOOOEEE-
Tchaik: Oh cut that out, Wolfy and help clean up!!
Schumann: the Riders of the Apocalypse.
Brahms(looks out into street; here come Bach's and Zacara's cars): Time to disappear... (picks up a single McDonald's Happy Meal toy from the ground, goes into house)
Beethoven: Where's the money box...? did we even make anything? (scowls)
Mozart: We made lots! BUt by the time we divy it up, we'll probably all have $2. Oh well, c'est la vie! Don't the French have stupid expressions for every kind of misery? How grand!
The yard sale is eventually cleaned up, after Bach and Zacara are told numerous times what has happened. After dinner, the money is divided, and sure enough, Beethoven winds up with a measley $14.38. He is depressed, but Zacara takes him aside in the hall and offers him a $100 bill.
Beethoven: I can't accept this--
Zacara: What are you talking about? I have to make up for my indiscretions somehow - I'm Catholic for Christ's sake - just take it.
Beethoven: No, I can't.
Zacara: Oh, what - are you going to put your human dignity above treating this girl to the dinner -or play - or gift - or whatever you're planning - that she deserves? Come on! (shoves it at him)
Beethoven: I can't take her out on MOB money-
Zacara: It's not "mob money" - I have a paying, 9-5 job writing music! I just let these housemates of ours think that so they don't give me crap, understand??
Beethoven(considers): ... well....
Zacara: I insist.
Beethoven: Ok, thanks - I owe you
Zacara: Fine, whatever, owe me - just go have a good time. (exit to den; Beethoven is left to consider the motions of Fate. Brahms opens basement door, steps into hallway)
Brahms: What are you doing?
Beethoven: Just thinking..
Brahms: Be careful, they tell me that's dangerous. (heads for stairs)
Beethoven(sniffs in amusement): Especially in this house...