Dinner and a Morality Play
(flashback to end of previous scene, Brahms going up stairs, Beethoven going into den....)
Brahms goes to his room for quiet reading time - but little does he know that Richard Wagner, silk scarf wrapped in hands, is waiting for him there. The second Brahms walks in, Wagner dives out from behind the closet door - struggle ensues, but with the element of surprise on his side, Wagner manages to pin Brahms against the wall, scarf at neck-
Wagner: ARCH-nemesis!! Admit your defeat!
Brahms: gah---!
Wagner: Reveal the letters!
Brahms: !!
Wagner: Perhaps you are not aware of the scientific facts concerning the nature of suffocation. Do allow me to inform you that on average it takes but FOUR minutes of oxygen deprivation before the brain begins to expire.. Now where.... are.... my....letters!!?
Brahms: !!
Wagner: MY letters or YOUR demise -- which shall it be, foul fiend?!
Brahms: (gagging, turning blue, pulls out letters)
Wagner: HAH! (lets him go, brandishing letters triumphantly) Sweet victory at last --!
Brahms(slides down wall, rubbing throat, coughing): no - gragh! - holl--cagh- ow--!
Wagner: Petty insults have no effect on me, my pathetic prostrated prosecutor - for what is there to exult in the pilferage of private property?? These letters contain only the outpouring of the individual, artistically sensitive Genius, the only reason for which recovery was necessitated being Personal Principle!
(Wagner sweeps out majestically; Brahms is left on the floor grimacing and shaking his fist.)
Early Morning.
The Kitchen.
Johannes Brahms.
He stalks into the room, scowling, red scarf wrapped around his neck. He puts on the coffee, goes about collecting the ingredients for an omelette. He cracks the eggs on the side of the frying pan with especial vigor. Enter Zacara.
Zacara: 'morning, sunshine.
Brahms: You can sense the bad mood, can't you?
Zacara(pulls diet coke from fridge): From the staircase, no less! It's an important survival skill for me, given the nature of my boss.
Brahms: (grumbles)
Zacara(gets out some plates): So explain to me how Pyotr's fashionable scarves are all the rage during the middle of the summer...?
Brahms: It's a protest.
Zacara: Of what?
Brahms(flips omelette violently): being strangled.
Zacara(snickers): Ah, well, yes. That's - (enter Bach, rubbing hands together hungrily)
Bach: mmm, green peppers, onions, and mushrooms - I hope you realize what a great help to the religious community these omelettes are, Johannes. (sees the scarf) God save us, you've been guillotined!!
Brahms: Not yet. That may be soon.
Zacara(sits): He's protesting strangulation.
Bach: uh... wouldn't that be a blue scarf?
Brahms(sudden thought): Hmm -- JS, go fetch the paper.
Bach: What, before omelette?!
Brahms(turns threateningly): grrr..
Bach: Ok, don't argue with man holding hot frying pan (exit; returns promptly with the Free Press, drops it at Brahms's feet) Yep. Paper. Also, there was a bag of coffee on the front steps with YOUR name on it?? (produces Starbucks bag)
Brahms(eyes narrow): I don't like Starbucks....
Bach(takes plate with omelette, sits): Sorry, I'll leave a note for the coffee Elves next time. So.... does this protest against strangulation have anything to do with Charles being almost murdered by Hildegard yesterday?
Brahms: Who would protest that?
Zacara: ahahah! Well said, well said -
Bach: Ok, well, is there something in the paper about it?
Brahms: (sits, opens paper, begins looking)
Zacara: Where's the rest of the omelettes?
Brahms(head in paper): make them yourself...
Zacara(mock self pity): Ohhh, but I don't like this game, il mio cuochino caro! Whoever's put you in such a bad mood is making us all suffer!
Bach(goes to counter): no wonder he's in a bad mood, coffee's not done yet!
Brahms(staring at paper, eyes wide with joy): Ah -- No! bad mood no more!! BEHOLD!!! (shoves paper at Zacara)
Zacara(scanning): what - music column... uh... "Richard Wagner's letters to his milliner...." WHAT!! AHAHAH - Are these THE letters??!
Brahms: Yep..
Bach(runs over): Oh, I have to see!
(There follows an attempt at a dramatic reading on part of Bach, then Zacara, both of whom have to give up for laughing too hard. Brahms eventually finishes the article with a Wagnerian flourish, the other two rolling on the floor. Brahms sits, smiles self-satisfactorily.)
Bach: ahahahahahah - oh god.. it cant be good for the soul to laugh this hard
Zacara: ahahahahahhhahhahaahah ohhhhhhh who cares!!
Brahms: That's worth being strangled over, right?
Zacara: Oh is THAT what this is about?!
Bach: I thought it was some national Protest-Strangulation Day or something!
Brahms: No, I only protest strangulation when I'm in immediate danger of it myself. You guys need to collect more copies of the paper when you're out today.
Zacara: Oh yeah, the guys at work will love this.
Bach: With this may I teach the children how NOT to lead a proud and arrogant lifestyle of excess...
Brahms(outloud, to self): AND being nearly assassinated by the mafia..!
Zacara: Now, now, they are a professional string quartet.
Bach: And I'm Jesus.
Zacara: That's possible.
Brahms(hops up suddenly): Ok, coffee time.
Bach: Good, let's toast to the end of the Wagner-Letter Saga!
Brahms(smirk): You think this is the end? I'm going dumpster-hunting for a dogloo after breakfast...
Barbara Strozzi wakes up around 7. The sun shines brightly in her eyes.
Strozzi: ugh, how is it so early? (Tchaik is bustling about, trying to get dressed without waking her up (Hildegard is already out of the room, and Liszt never came back last night); he turns around at her voice.)
Tchaik: Did I wake you up, Barbara?
Strozzi: nah... (stretches) What's today's weather report?
Tchaik: I don't know. hot and disgusting, I would assume.
Strozzi: yep, sounds about right. (looks out window) What are we doing today? Isn't Hildegard having some rehearsals?
Tchaik: Something like that.. I can't believe she made me Envy. I should be Lust, really.
Strozzi: oh, shouldn't we all .. Why haven't I heard from Gustav lately?
Tchaik: I guess he's too busy being important. Really, I don't know what you see in him.
Strozzi: Maybe I need a more sensitive, more sentimental fellow.. like Yuri
Tchaik(as if hit with a lead shoe): Ugh!
Strozzi: So are you dumping him or what?
Tchaik: I don't know - it's too early to be discussing love affairs!
Strozzi(grins): Ah hah... Well, I think 'desperate measures must needs be taken' if I want to keep Gustav.. Perhaps he was more concerned about Hugo than he let on...
Tchaik: You'd think he would fight the harder for it!
Strozzi(matter of factly): You know men are stupid.
Tchaik: yeah...
Strozzi: So sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hands..
Tchaik: hm... Nah.
Strozzi: What? Whatever it is that involves Yuri, you should consider it.
Tchaik: Not now. I'm running late already.
On the way out the door, Tchaik nearly runs into Robert Schumann, who is sneaking about the foyer with a magnifying glass.
Tchaik: ah - Robert - what are you doing?
Schumann(wide-eyed): Today is a day for Chinatown, my friend. (picks up umbrella from umbrella stand, replaces it with magnifying glass which promptly falls to the bottom with a crash; waltzes out)
Tchaik: Oh God, I can't deal with the insanity anymore.....
Meanwhile, the talk of the breakfast table is the Wagner letters, since the paper has been left open conspicuously to that page. Strozzi, Hildegard, Ives, and Mussorgsky have overcome their personal differences to laugh at the extravagance.
Hildegard: I like this part (reads dramatically, imitating Wagner) "I asked you to calculate exactly how much money I should have to send you for making a pink satin housecoat, quilted and ornamented, which I described at length.-"
Strozzi: boy, did he!!
Hildegard(continuing,trying to keep a straight face): "Am I not to know anything either about the blue satin?"! HAhahahahah!!
Ives: BLUE SATIN!! HAHAHA - what a pansy!!
Strozzi: I hope you don't mean to imply that he's feminine, after all, we women have much better taste than he does.
Hildegard: Both of you need to stop stereotyping - he is ridiculous for EITHER sex!
(Enter Wagner; he stands imperiously in the doorway.)
Wagner(like Zeus dispensing good will): Good morrow, my fine housemates!
Muss: well youreina good mood sunshine
(Ives is snickering)
Wagner: And what is so amusing, Mr. Charles Ives?
Ives: I notice you're not wearing any pink satin today...
Wagner(raises eyebrow): Not visibly..
Strozzi(trying to keep a straight face): Why the good mood, Richard?
Wagner: I have finally succeeded in my long mission to recover personal belongings which had been stolen! The scoundrel has been duly punished, and all is aright with the world once more!
(Ives loses it: snorts then laughs; and the others quickly follow suit)
Wagner: What is this unnatural cachinnation?! (Strozzi shoves paper at him; he scans, eyes the size of baseballs) IMPOSSIBLE!! HOW--!!? DID HE COMMIT THEM TO MEMORY! --SHOULD HAVE KILLED THE FIEND! (stalks out; the laughter follows him into the hall where he finds Beethoven coming down the stairs) Ludwig! What do you know of it!?
Beethoven: What?
Wagner: My private letters posted all about the town in the Free Press! How would YOU feel, you consummate artist - to have your inner thoughts splayed throughout the kingdom - in every bakery, every coffee shop, every - god save us - WALMART CHECKOUT LINE!!?
Beethoven(cringes): Does this have to do with women's underwear?
Wagner: IMBECILES! (goes out backdoor, throwing it shut with a house-shaking slam)
Beethoven(pauses on his step, musing): ... the mafia was good training for this...
Later on the patio. Hildegard is preparing to rehearse some scenes from her morality play. She is consulting Mussorgsky, who is sprawled on the chaise lounge. He is reading over the script and frowning.
Mussorgsky: uh....
Hildegard: What is it?
Mussorgsky: doyou really expect JSto "sweep Everywoman into his arms and kiss her madly"?
Hildegard: ... well, he is Lust.
Mussorgsky: still thestage directions read likea bad romance novel.
Hildegard(trying not to look embarrassed): There are good romance novels?
Mussorgsky: One hasto keep up the hope. I haventseen one though-
Hildegard: I didn't realize you were such an expert in bad romance novels.
Muss(smirks): the right opera composer shouldbe wellread in a varietyof genres.
Hildegard(arms folded, skeptical): And just how many bad romance novels have you read?
Muss(waves hand): oh you know enough to make up the crap if need be. (looks into back yard, clears throat) "Beatrice felt swept away bythis ravenhaired musky stranger a helpess dust bunny inthe roaring cacophony of his gaspowered leaf blower... "
Hildegard(has to laugh): I hope you haven't seen similes like that.
Muss: (sighs)
Hildegard: If you've really read writing that bad then you can't complain about the play! Besides, given my audience, I don't think it will be too badly received...
Muss(raised eyebrow): some of those ladiesare prim and proper
Hildegard: Except when they're beating the AA over the heads with whiskey bottles...!
Muss(nostalgically, looking into the back yard): ohhhh yeahhh... i think msroberts probably gave that poor guya concussion...
Hildrgard: Modest! I hope you don't condone such violence!
Muss: no, justlike idont condone meddling in other peoples business
Hildegard: I only did that because I care..
Muss: Imnotgonna DIE--
(They are interrupted by sudden white monstrosity appearing from around the side of the house. Brahms is pushing a large children's playhouse into the yard)
Muss: thereversions complete
Hildegard: Johannes, what are you DOING?!
Brahms(ducks down instinctively, looks over, calls back): uh..... has Richard seen the paper yet?!
Hildegard: is this about those LETTERS!?
Muss(smiles): "but a true pink only very dark and fiery.." youhaveto admit he has a certain poetic way when hes ordering pink satin...almost as good asthe romance novels...
Hildegard(calls back matter-of-factly): He's going to kill you!
Late Afternoon. Wagner is in the den consulting Liszt as to revenge strategies. Unfortunately, Liszt is less than receptive.
Liszt: You know, Richard, I had a grand time last night. It was just me and Marie - just the two of us, and a night on the town, AND what a night at her place! --(Wagner is about to speak, but Liszt cuts him off) AND there was no pool table protest, no mafia, no LETTERS -- now you come to me complaining about this newspaper. I really don't care! You'll have to deal with this yourself.
Wagner: Franz! You call yourself my friend!? Why - What -
Liszt(pointing out back window, Brahms is hammering something on the playhouse): Look, Richard! There he is! Go beat the crap out of him - you'll feel better!!
Wagner: And what - are you to just sit here and watch?
Liszt: No, I am trying to write a letter, NOT to my dressmaker, but to a lovely lady with whom I am quite infatuated. That's my policy: Love not War - now I'd tell you to apply it here, but I'm not so sure it'd have the intended effect on either of you. (shrugs)
Wagner(eyes narrow): I don't like this Marie character. She is a foul influence! (storms out)
Wagner heads for the backporch. He slams open the door - Brahms spins around, hammer in hand.
Wagner: Brahms.
Brahms: You're too late, Richard. Even if you kill me, Eduard Hanslick will still have the beautiful digital pictures he took of your letters.
Wagner: WHAT -- IS THAT HOW-
Brahms: And God knows who else has copies by now... Isn't email a wonderful invention?
(Wagner storms over, stares Brahms straight in the eye as they are the same pitifully short height)
Wagner: So! You dare look me in the eye!?
Brahms: I'm the one with the hammer. (holds it up with a smirk)
Wagner: What- GIVE me that - (seizes hammer - but Brahms won't let go - struggle ensues
Cut to den window, where Mozart is watching; Liszt glances over from the sofa)
Mozart: Oh he really is going to kill him! He's going for the hammer! GOD I need my camcorder (runs out; Liszt gets up, meanders to window)
Liszt: This is really pathetic, people... although I must say, ritual dismemberment in the backyard is somehow .. distracting....
(Soon Mozart is back with camcorder rolling, commentating with his announcer voice)
Mozart: Yes, ladies and gentlemen, a great fight to behold, our household pair of arch nemeses--
Liszt: Frankly, I'm surprised it's taking this long...
Mozart(regular tone): I know, Johannes should have had him by now.
Liszt: Richard, you mean.
Mozart: Aw wanna BET?!
Liszt(laconically): ten dollars on Richard.
Mozart: but Soft! The approach of Ludwig!
(Cut to outside again; Beethoven walks up to the tangle and towers above them, arms folded)
Beethoven: Uh... Excuse me... (they ignore him) EXCUSE ME!! (pause; they look up)
Brahms: hey I don't want you thinking you have to bail me out of everything, Ludwig --
Wagner(at same time): I require no assistance, friend, although I appreciate the gesture--
Beethoven(pause; blinks): Mm... Actually, I just came over here to tell you both to keep quiet.. I'm trying to compose a fugue... (scowls) and it's way more dissonant than it needs to be. I can't have death and destruction when I'm trying to make music, OK!? (suddenly seizes hammer from them both, steps back)
Both: HEY--
Beethoven: I'll take this. I don't want to hear about doctor's bills and bloody hands. (trudges back to his corner of the yard)
Wagner(sits up, rubs back of head): Well this is all very disagreeable!
Brahms(sits up, sighs): If your honor is so insulted, we should just settle this in the manly way.
Wagner(skeptically): And what might that be?
Brahms: A game of chess.
Wagner: HAH!
Brahms: Or a revolver duel.
Wagner: Nay, archfiend - a game of skill and quick wits- GIN RUMMY!
(cut to den)
Mozart: This is boring, ladies and gentlemen; Ludwig seems to have interrupted the fight AND got them talking again. UNHEARD OF--
Mozart: Open the window, see if we can hear them-
Meanwhile - Strozzi jaunts down the upstairs hallway in a stunning, slightly too small, red gown and throws open the bathroom door to reveal a shocked, but somewhat amused Tchaik.
Tchaik: Barbara! hey! You can't just barge into the bathroom when someone's in here!
(Strozzi rolls eyes, begins to try out lipsticks as she rummages through a drawer)
Strozzi: Whatever, I knew you were just playing with my Clairol do-it-yourself highlights kit again.
Tchaik(like a guilty child): yeah, but still, I could have been...
Strozzi: --Oh, come on, Pyotr (hugs him, mascara brush in hand) you know you're just too cute to poop! (She hops up onto the bathroom counter for a closer look at her lip liner)
Tchaik(hops onto counter next to her and kicks shut bathroom door): So, (singsong-like) whaddya getting all whored up for?
Strozzi(mischievous smile): Funny you should put it that way (rubs on eyeshadow). I thought maybe Gustav might miss me, and perhaps he wants some company.
Tchaik: I don't think anyone will miss you in that dress.
Strozzi(chuckles): And how was your day?
Tchaik(rolls eyes): Insufferable Yuri took me to lunch - (Strozzi grins) oh, it was something about "I've caused you too much trouble lately, the least I can do is buy you lunch," but at least it was better than sitting around office hours waiting for those obnoxious kids to come sidling in as they always do. (sighs) Oh, why is the world out to get me, Barbara?!
Strozzi(as if to a five year old): Because you're beautiful, Pyotr!!
Tchaik: Well, don't let anyone think it's easy!
Meanwhile in the backyard:
Brahms: Pyotr says you cheat at that game. Let's play bridge-
Wagner: Such a suggestion after such an accusation - is it humour, I wonder!?
Brahms(insulted): I don't cheat. It's not my fault if you can't count to 13.
Wagner: It's not a matter of counting - only Pyotr can't count to 13 - It is, RATHER, your method of communicating with your partner in such a manner that obscures basic bidding! I refuse to play bridge with you and that madman Schumann - Mayhap if your partner were someone equally unaccustomed to your black-hearted bidding strategies, I might accept the offer.
Brahms: Fine. (yells across yard) LUDWIIIGGG!!!
Wagner: FRAAANNZZZ!!
(den)
Liszt: Oh God - (ducks down )I'm not here !
Mozart: HAHAH - they're calling for reinforcements!!
(yard)
Beethoven(calls back) THE ANSWER IS NO!
(den)
Liszt: That's a better response (calls out) THE ANSWER IS ALSO NO!!
(Brahms and Wagner fold their arms.)
Wagner: With friends such as these.... (sniffs) We shall have to find other partners. By Tomorrow. High Noon. The Kitchen.
Brahms: I'll be there.... with.... someone. (they shake)
Brahms and Wagner are now on a new mission: To find suitable bridge partners. Wagner treks about the foyer, muttering to himself..
Wagner: Must be bold, sharp, confident, steely-nerved, strong-willed, yet capable of compromise... where shall I find such a partner?!
(Enter the workforce)
Zacara: OHhhhhh JESUS, what a day!
Bach: AMEN!
Ives: Where's my dinner!?!
Wagner(turns in dismay): Hola, fine friends - which of you (glares at Ives) -- who has acquired a modicum of human decency - can help me triumph in a bridge match against my arch nemesis?
Bach: Oh, is that what you've decided, eh?
Zacara(shrugs): the whole human decency thing disqualifies me, I'm afraid.
(Enter Brahms from den)
Brahms: Antonio, you'd be willing to play one little bridge game to insure the security of your morning omelettes, right?
Zacara: hahah! You're asking ME? Sure, I'll do it. Though I warn you, I'm much better at pinochle..
Bach(to Wagner): If no one else will play with you, Richard, I will.
Wagner: Fine, it's settled.
(Enter Hildegard)
Hildegard: Now don't go planning any card games tonight - I'll have you know we are having a rehearsal after dinner!
Tchaik: Well I don't know how without Barbara. She's with "Gustav" again!
Others: BOOOOO!
Hildegard: It's ok - we can still rehearse the scenes that don't require her singing. Someone can read her part.
Zacara: So when are we playing?
Brahms: Tomorrow at... uh... You guys work.
Bach: hahah - yes, some people do that.
Brahms: Tomorrow night -
Hildegard: Rehearsal!
Wagner: I beg your pardon - I have an engagement tomorrow night. The following evening!
Hildegard: All right. (As the guys are dispersing � down the stairs waltzes Strozzi, dressed to kill � she smiles at Brahms, as if there's nothing out of the ordinary, and continues out the front door. He stands there, mouth open �
Brahms: ........................
(Mozart sticks his head out of the den)
Mozart: So did you decide how you're going to kill Richard yet?
Brahms(opens door, looks): Hm?
Mozart: What are you doing??
Brahms: Where's she going dressed like that?
Mozart: Better with binoculars (motions to Brahms that they should go into the den; he pulls out a pair of binoculars and they sit on the couch and watch out the window)
Brahms: hey look! Mahler's opening the door now. Heh, now that's an expression! Wonder what they�re saying..
Mozart(fakes a low grumbly voice to imitate Mahler): "Umm, hey Barbara...you look, um, really hot tonight."
Brahms(in falsetto girly voice): "Gee, really Gustav? Why this old thing? You sure know how to make a girl feel special."
(The real Mahler and Strozzi stand on the porch chatting.)
Mozart: "So, um, what did you have in mind for tonight? A couple games of skip-bo? Some stamp collecting perhaps?"
Brahms: "Um, actually Gustav-baby I was just thinking about how much your begonias make me want to de-flower..."
Mozart(smacks him): Ewww Hannes! Now you've taken it too far..although now I really wonder what would happen if you ever had a girlfriend.
Brahms: Oh no! Look! she went inside!
Mozart: yeah, dressed like that, she was probably cold...!
(they snicker)
Mahler's dining room. Strozzi is now seated at the end of the table, which was already set for two with lit tapers and soft music playing in the background. Mahler enters dining room from the kitchen with his hands full of two fancy serving dishes. He walks over to Strozzi with an impish grin, starts to serve her a salmon filet topped with home-made hollandaise sauce.
Mahler: So, Barbara. I'm glad you came over to bring me back my T-shirt..by the way... where is it?
Strozzi(smiles, leans towards him, and looks him straight in the eyes): I forgot to bring it.
Mahler(tries not to laugh, starts serving himself the salmon): Oh, of course, Barbara. Anyway, I'm glad you came over. I wouldn't want a silly misunderstanding to hurt our friendship.
Strozzi(also nonchalant, but still smiling wildly): Why of course not, Gustav. (She picks up a long piece of steamed asparagus, slowly puts the tip of it in her mouth and, after looking back at Mahler, bites it off.) Crunch...Mmm, Gustav. Would you like some asparagus?
Mahler(ashen white, glasses are crooked; catches himself as he nearly falls out of his chair): Yes, please.
Strozzi: So, do you normally cook like this?
Mahler: Yep.. (stares at plate and takes a mouthful of salmon.)
Strozzi: You steam Alaskan salmon and make hollandaise sauce? from scratch?
Mahler(still staring at plate, takes another mouthful of salmon): MMm, hmm.
Strozzi: And you set the table for two?
Mahler(more in control...somewhat): Why yes, Barbara. You see, you and I have, well, an intimate understanding of each other. (winks at her and grins) I just knew you would be stopping over for dinner tonight.
Strozzi(still cool): Well, Gustav. I can't wait to find out what you thought I would like for dessert. (She winks back and licks her spoon coyly.)
Mahler(glasses now steamed up, he gets up to go to her chair, but trips on the long draped table cloth and falls to the ground at her feet. But he has not lost yet. He takes off his glasses and looks up, upside down at her, and with the same air of poised nonchalance) Would you care for a drink, Barbara?
After dinner, Hildegard rounds up some of the guys. Currently it's Bach (Lust), Brahms (Sloth), Mozart (Venial Sins), Wagner(Pride) and Tchaikovsky (Envy).
Hildegard: Ok, so in the opening scene we'll have Everywoman introducing herself - then Pride tries to hijack the scene - Uh (looks around) JS, would you read for Barbara?
Bach: Yeah, no problem. (takes script from her) ok.... ready? (Wagner hides in doorway, the others watch from the couch) Ahem..... "I am Everywoman. --" (Mozart cracks up - Bach looks over) What - what is so funny about that?
Mozart: AHahahahah - Straight-faced delivery!
Hildegard: Quiet, Wolfy - pretend he's Barbara!
Mozart: AHHAHAHAHA
Brahms: hahahah! not much to recommend him! (Mozart giggles inanely)
Hildegard: YOU PEOPLE!
Bach(rolls eyes): Ok. OK! - (they quiet down) "I am Everywoman (Mozart covers his mouth). My goals in life are not extravagant. I wish to lead a life of simple honest morality, unmoved by temptations and excess sensuality--"
Mozart: Wait - BARBARA is going to read this??!
Tchaik: (tries not to laugh)
Brahms: It's more believable coming from JS!! hahaha-
Hildegard: QUUIIIEETTTTT!! (Brahms buries face in pillow; Mozart grabs the other one; Tchaik is turning red)
Bach(continues reading): "I also wish to lead an independent life--" (Enter Wagner, who marches magnanimously onto the scene)--
Wagner: "Pardon me, madam, I'll have you know this is no way to begin a theatrical production."
Tchaikovsky(looks at Brahms and whispers): Is that his line?
Wagner(continuing): "One needs an overpowering dramatic scene with flashing lights, fantastical creatures, progressive music, and CONFLICT!"
Brahms(to Tchaik): I can't tell...!
Bach(reading): "Excuse me, sir - who are you with such extravagant demands?!"
Wagner: "I am Pride! and I shall appear in no less a production than suits my talents!"
(Tchaik, Brahms, and Mozart start laughing again)
Tchaik: They are his lines!!
Mozart: "And Richard Wagner as himself!"
Hildegard: SHHH!
Bach: "I'm sorry, Pride, one can make an impressive statement without all the flashing lights and augmented sixth chords"
Mozart: Hey now!
Tchaik: Augmented sixths are necessary!
Bach(glares at them, continuing): "It's a matter of content, not presentation!"
Hildegard: Ok - at which point she sings what I've written -- so don't worry about that now. Thank you for memorizing your lines so quickly, Richard!
Wagner: My pleasure, madam, I do so enjoy the theater. (makes a little bow) However, if you had any plans for expanding this scene, I encourage you to bring them to fulfillment. (goes to couch)
Hildegard: Ok, thanks. Let's see (looking over script) Let's do the sloth scene next. (no movement from couch; pause, she glares at Brahms) Are you THAT lazy?!
Brahms: oh shit, that's me (Mozart laughs, Tchaik sighs) ok.. uh.. (pulls out script) hey.. this scene needs an extra.
Hildegard: Right - Wolfgang, would you be the extra?
Mozart: heheheh - (starts to get up)
Hildegard: Actually! - Richard, would you be the extra?
Wagner(glaring at Brahms): Indeed, if you don't suspect my thespian additions won't detract too much from the main points of emphasis...but I shall need a script. (Tchaik hands him his; Wagner walks to the middle of the room with Brahms and Bach; Mozart sits back down next to Tchaik "This could be dangerous!" Brahms stands on one side of piano, Wagner on other, as if customer and salesman, or more like two angry guys about to arm wrestle.)
Bach(reading): "In my daily routine I strive for simplicity, but always courtesy and honesty" (walks over to Wagner, stands in line)
Wagner: "I would like to purchase this book." (puts pink beret on table in front of Brahms, who regards it apathetically; pause) "Good day, sir - did you hear me?"
Brahms(mildly annoyed, to Hildegard): Wouldn't it be easier for me to just sleep through this scene?
Hildegard: .... Just..... read.... the lines....
(Enter Ives)
Ives: Can someone please tell me why there is a caged pigeon on the porch?!
Hildegard: what are you talking about?
Brahms: Oh, that's Robert's.
Ives: I should have known!
Tchaik(incredulous): What the hell does he need a pigeon for?
Brahms: I don't know - something about enlightenment and cooking-
Ives: He's going to cook a pigeon?!
Brahms: I think it was a metaphor...?
Mozart: You're losing it, Hannes! Can't read Robert anymore!
Brahms(mildly annoyed): long as he's cooking pigeons and not eagles, I think I'm ok...
Hildegard: Can we get back to work please? I know that's a foreign concept to some of you...
Brahms(scowls): Not as foreign as you might think!
Hildegard: Oh right, excuse me, I forgot you consider doodling in your notebook to be work.
Wagner: WELL SAID, madam! (to Brahms) Honestly, if you spent as much time composing as you did stealing others' property, perhaps--
Brahms: I work seven hours a day BEFORE LUNCH! And if half my compositional work were picking out pastel costume colors for my singers, maybe I'd be as "productive" as you�(Mozart guffaws, Brahms turns to Hildegard) FURTHERMORE, I don't consider it to be work either to sit around with my hands on my knees stoned � or don't they call it "meditating" where you come from? Maybe if you could meditate while selling French fries, THEN it would be productive --
Hildegard(furious, pointing at doorway): Leave...!! before one of us gets angry and says something they don�t want to... (exit Brahms, Mozart hops up and follows out the front door where he finds Brahms pacing around the yard.)
Mozart: Hey Johannes, I'd say you were actually angry!
Brahms: You think?!
Mozart: I don't see why you care for Richard's or Hildegard's opinion � what the hell do they know about writing fugues? Or string quartets? Those require work! you can't just sit down and write 'em!
Brahms: You can.
Mozart: nooho (laughs) But everyone likes to think that, so why should I spoil their hopes and dreams? (looks across street) Hey, look! Gustav left his Porsche in the driveway this time, instead of in his locked garage.
Brahms: and?
Mozart: You see, my dear Johannes, it's all a matter of logic. Gustav usually keeps his awesome sportscar in his garage because he doesn't want anyone to come over and play in it. But, this time the car is not in the garage, but in the driveway, where someone could come over and play with it. Therefore, Gustav must accept the consequences of us going over there and seeing if I can get it into neutral, jump start it, and take it for a spin.
Brahms: and if he catches us?
(Just then, inside the house, Mahler goes to the front picture window and quickly throws the drapes closed.)
Mozart(already halfway across the street): Somehow, Hannes, I don�t think he�ll notice us...
Cut to the top of the street. Heinrich Schenker is walking down the street, singing and talking to himself. He is noisily kicking a discarded Fanta can.
Schenker: Stupid Arnold, what does he know anyways. La, la, la, la, la, la, la and bingo was his name-oh. He just doesn't know that as the image of our life-motion, music can approach a state of objectivity, never, of course, to the extent that it need abandon its own specific nature as an art. Thus, it may almost evoke pictures or seem to be endowed with speech; it may pursue its course by means of associations, references, and connectives; it may use repetitions of the same tonal succession to express different meanings; it may simulate expectation, preparation, surprise, disappointment, patience, impatience, and humor...and on that farm he had a horse with a nay-nay here and a nay-nay there...la, la, la, la, la (loudly) and bingo was his name-oh.
(Schenker is now three houses away from Mahler's where Mozart and Brahms now sit in the front seat of the Porsche.)
Schenker(loudly): Hi guys! Hi Johannes! Hi whats-your-face!
Mozart: What the...
Brahms(rolls eyes) God, music theorists. (calls) Sshhhh! Heinrich! Not so loud!
(Schenker laughs and runs over to the car. Mozart is frowning with clear disappointment.)
Schenker: What's going on?
Mozart: Well, before you came along and broke my concentration, we were about to take this little beauty down to the Dairy Queen and show off to all those no-good loser music publishers who hang out down there. But, if you insist on talking so loudly, Gustav will see us and kick us off his property. So, are you going to shut your yap, theory-boy?
Schenker(motions that he is zipping his lips) Cross my heart and hope to die!
Mozart: the evening is young, Heinrich, that could still be arranged.
(Just then the front door clicks. Mahler and Strozzi emerge from the house, laughing and not noticing their guests in the driveway.)
Brahms: Shit -here they come!
Mozart: Quick! hide! You too, Heinrich!
(All three quickly dive into the back seat and throw a blanket over themselves. Underneath it is a bottle of champagne and a flashlight.)
Heinrich: Ouch! what am I sitting on? Oh, some bottle of (sounds it out) Dom Per-ig-none? Hey, a flashlight!
Brahms: Lucky for us this blanket and stuff were here. I wonder what for?
Mozart(rolls his eyes and jabs Brahms in the gut): You would. Now shut up both of you before we get caught.
(Just then Mahler and Strozzi get into the car, start the engine, and drive off. Mozart, Brahms, and Schenker are now along for the ride.)
Cut to a secluded bank at the local reservoir. Mahler and Strozzi have left the car behind and walked down a trail to the edge of the water where the sit, side by side on a fallen tree trunk. Strozzi kicks off her strappy high heels and dips her feet into the water.
Strozzi: I hear the local high school kids come out here on weekends. Charles says this place is notorious for "local hooligans."
Mahler: Really.. I thought it would be romantic.
Strozi: It could be (she raises an eyebrow and smiles at him)
Mahler(begins to reach over to stroke her hair, but stops himself; coyly): You know Barbara, I had an interesting afternoon the other day in my neighbor�s swimming pool with Mr. Wolf...
Strozzi: Um, yeah, sorry about that. I didn�t exactly tell him I was interested, though.
Mahler: Well, I wasn�t exactly interested in swimming either.
Strozzi(avoiding the subject): Oh no? That�s a shame Gustav. (She gets up, wades into the water) I just adore swimming!
Mahler: What? Here? Now?
Strozzi: Sure! Why not? Come on in, it�s dark out, but the water�s really nice.
Mahler: But you have all your clothes on! They�re going to get (she takes off her dress and throws it in his face)�wet.
Cut to the backseat of Mahler�s car. Mozart, Brahms and Schenker still sit underneath the blanket. Brahms passes a now nearly empty bottle of Dom Perignon back to Schenker, who belches loudly, as he holds the flashlight underneath his chin.
Schenker: And then, the masked man, with only one hook for a hand, reached over to the front seat and�
Mozart(finishing bottle) that's lame, Heinrich. Hannes's story about the babysitter was scarier than that. Let's go do something else. (He pulls the blanket off ) It looks like they're gone.
Brahms(belches): well, where�d they go? (He is tipsy and falls backwards onto Schenker, who giggles like a little girl.)
Mozart: Shut up! They're still around somewhere. They probably walked down to the lake. Let's go see if we can find them and tell them to drive us home. I'm hungry.
(Brahms and Schenker, still giggling, slowly climb out of the backseat and roll onto the ground.
Strozzi is now in the water up to her shoulders where she calls to Mahler a few feet away, standing on a rock, looking very uncomfortable in only his "tighty-whities")
Strozzi: Come on, Gustav. I told you it�s not cold. (she is beginning to get frustrated) Trust me, I know. I�m not wearing a thing!
Mahler(looks around, nervous) um, ok, here I come! (cannonballs into the water as she throws her head back and laughs; swims away from him. Mozart, Brahms, and Schenker have now reached the shore and see them both in the water.)
Schenker: There they are! They're swimming! They.re not supposed to swim here. The local cops are always catching high school kids who come out here after dark!
Brahms: mmm swimming...
Mozart: Ok, enough, both of you. (He walks over to two piles of clothes, recently neatly folded by a neurotic Mahler) I have a better idea...eh heheh..
Back at the ranch, Hildegard is directing the next scene:
Schumann: "But wouldn�t you rather have a penny? I can give you that and everything more."
Hildegard: No, Robert, you�re the Devil. Try to be a little more enticing.
Schumann(frowns): The Devil speaks for itself. Who wouldn�t want a penny and everything more?
Hildegard(sighs): Pretend you're trying to seduce someone.
Schumann(frowns more): Methinks the Devil'd not be offering a penny if that were the case.
Hildegard: Ok, ok, Robert � why don�t you just improv? You're trying to turn Everywoman to the dark side.
Schumann(turns back to Bach): Have you ever considered the pleasures of a life in crime-fighting? I speak not of the ordinary street officer, the plain-clothes policeman, nay not even the inimitable DA. Your career begins as an esteemed officer with the
department of revenue. (Hildegard leans back against wall, smirks)
Bach: ah� hahaha
Schumann: Who in this life has time to worry over pennies, nickels and dimes? No one, I say, and truly, that is where your future begins--Maiden of the meticulous meter , Master of the hidden sting, Hero of the punctilious, and (tone changes entirely) fantastic bonuses every financial quarter!
Bach: Sign me up!
Hildegard: NO, "Barbara," that is not the correct response.
Zacara: Sign me up too!
Hildegard: CAN WE CONCENTRATE, GUYS?!
Back at the lake:
Strozzi: Polo! Come on, Gustav, say Marco again!
Mahler(confused and flustered opens his eyes): I don't like this game. Besides, it's so dark out I can�t see a thing! How am I supposed to find you ?
Strozzi: By the sound of my voice...or, even...by touch. (she swims closer to him. Mahler finally lunges over to her, grabs her, and kisses her just as a blinding light is flashed onto them.)
Policeman(over a mega-phone): Ok, you kids. Come out of the water now. Not supposed to be in there after dark. This time, we're taking you down to the station and calling your parents!
(Strozzi and Mahler swim over to the shore and are desperately groping at the ground)
Strozzi: Our clothes! Gustav? Where did you put them?
Mahler: My glasses! I don't know! They were all just here!
Policeman: That�s all right, you two. (throws them each a blanket) We're taking you both down to the station just the same.
Back at the house. Tchaikovsky, Liszt, Zacara, and Bach are left rehearsing. Mussorgsky has wandered in to inspect. His giant plate of nachos covered in jalepenos, bacon bits, and cheddar cheese, makes Zacara pat the sofa seat next to him. Muss sits and they start digging in..
Zacara: You know, there really are hot peppers that are so hot you can actually hallucinate.
Muss: yea we dont eat hallucinagenic peppersin Russia� although we probably should pepper Hildegard?
Hildegard: trust me. I don't need them. Ok, J.S., I think we have only your scene - you as Lust, that is - remaining. So... Uh - I guess Franz can read Barbara's lines.
(Mussorgsky looks around, no one sees his concerned expression.)
Liszt: very well.. (takes script, reads) "Excuse me, friend do you have the time?"
Bach: "Why yes, dear lady, I can tell you exactly what time it is. Why don't we-" uh...(trails off as he skims rest of line)
Liszt(reading ahead): Eh.... I don't think I'm playing Barbara in this scene anymore..
Zacara(pointing out stage directions to Tchaikovsky): eh hahahaha!
Hildegard(hand to head): oh god-
Muss(amused, nacho midair): it reads likea bad romance novel doesnt it (Hildegard smacks him in arm, a piece of jalapeno falls onto the sofa)
Tchaik(mischievously): Oh come on, guys, why not?!
Bach: I think that might be a little more entertaining than intended..
Tchaik: I think you should...!
Liszt: I'm sure you do, Pyotr! Sorry!
Zacara: ahahha - who's this for? the women's club?
Tchaik: Oh yeah - you should leave it this way!
Muss: They are old ladies!
Hildegard: OK, OK - you bunch of five year olds! We will discuss this with Barbara...where IS she, anyway??
(Phone rings)
Hildegard: ah, maybe that's her now. (picks it up) Hello? Barbara? YOU'RE WHERE? How?.... Really?...come pick you up?..but...You're surprised that I'm surprised? Well, if this were Charles calling I'd say, "Well of course you're in jail because you're a jackass!" (Zacara starts laughing) But you, Barbara?... Um...WHAT!? IS THIS A PRANK CALL?!
Zacara: HAHAHA!
Tchaik: Oh, Barbara, what have you done this time?
Muss: i bet its for real...lemmetalk toher Hildegard..(licks cheese off fingers, takes phone) hey Barbara
Hildegard(rolls eyes) maybe you two can..understand each other..
Muss(sympathetically):......uh huh.. ohhh thats rough..ya... wellsend someone over..whats your bail?..ehh yea...bye Barbara.
(Cut to the local police station where Strozzi, dripping wet still, clutching a blanket, is being released into the custody of an annoyed but somewhat amused Hildegard. The gate swings closed behind her, and she looks back at a dripping, but love-struck Mahler.)
Strozzi: So, I'll call you tomorrow?
Mahler: Please.
Strozzi: Never thought I'd get a hickey in the back of a police car before.
Mahler: I'm always full of surprises...
Strozzi: I'll find someone to bail you out. Night, Gustav.
Mahler: Night, Barbara.
(Strozzi and Hildegard walk out of the station while Hildegard shakes her head. Mahler stands up on his bench to peer out the window. There is Bach slumped over the wheel of his car laughing hysterically as Strozzi and Hildegard get in. Mahler suddenly realizes that his blanket is slipping and it is getting a bit drafty.)
Policeman: Hey there, Mr. Flash. Someone�s here to bail you out.
Mahler: Oh? (In walk Mozart, Brahms, and Schenker. Mozart is holding Mahler's glasses and the keys to his car. Brahms is wearing Mahler's sportcoat and driving gloves, and Schenker is sporting a pair of rhinestone sunglasses belonging to Strozzi.) Oh, I see.
Mozart: You have such a sweet ride, Gustav. (he grins, hands Mahler his glasses)
Mahler(puts them on in a defiant swipe, suddenly the picture of the angry conductor again � despite the towel): YOU DROVE MY CAR!
Mozart: Yep, and I'm going to drive it out of here too.
Mahler: How dare you! Are you responsible for our missing clothes as well!? Do you want your opera put on this season or NOT?!
Mozart: Of course I do.. (He holds up a wad of bills in front of the bail clerk's counter) Aren't you cold, my dear Mister Mahler?
Mahler(steadies himself): fine...
(Mozart pays the bail; Brahms and Schenker toss him his clothes. He quickly dresses and follows them out of the cell towards the parking lot.)
Mozart: Come on, guys. Let's get out of here. We're going to IHOP!
Brahms(can't help himself): You didn't by any chance see this morning's paper, did you, Mr. Mahler?
Mozart: Ahahahahah!
Mahler: I'm sure they'll have one at IHOP...