Tuesday begins promisingly enough. The working housemates go off to their various jobs; Beethoven takes a morning stroll into town to meet his immortal beloved at the Red Hedgehog German bakery; Mozart sprawls on the den couch, upside down, head hanging off front, whistling and occassionally interrupting himself to laugh. Hildegard, Strozzi, and Liszt are enjoying the peace in the kitchen. Cue phone.
Liszt(answers): Hello?... Hi Charles..
Hildegard(to S): What can he want at this hour?
Liszt (expression turns concerned): Really? Are you ok?
Strozzi: What's the matter?
Liszt: Car accident--
Both: WHAT?! (Liszt holds up a hand)
Liszt: .................He says he's ok.. just a little whiplash. At the hospital now. (to phone): Yeah, ok, it's just Barbara and Hildegard..... (frowns) Ok.. I'm sure we can manage something..... Yeah, you rest now, Charles..... Bye. (pause, they look at him) Something about road rage; he'll be there for a bit so they can observe him. And he wants someone to visit him. (uncomfortable silence)
Hildegard: Maybe... someone who has .. nothing to do all day??
Liszt: Perhaps - but it'd be best if it's someone who actually gets along with him...
Hildegard: Yeah.... but he doesn't really get along with anyone. (she looks at Strozzi, as does Liszt)
(Strozzi blinks.)
Strozzi: but...
Liszt: You should visit him, Barbara.
Strozzi: No, no, no, no. You're much better at comforting people than I am, Franz, you should go.
Liszt: I can never find anything to talk about with him.
Strozzi: You're the King of small talk!!
Liszt: But all he ever wants to talk about is sports... and insurance. (grimaces) And... he keeps asking me about my life insurance.
Hildegard(snickers): He knows that one day one of your love interest's boyfriends is going to kill you.
Liszt(sighs): I guess I could visit him.. I wanted to stop by the French bakery anyway today.
Hildegard: You're all right, Franz.
Later in the kitchen, Hildegard and Strozzi are talking at the table, Hildegard having just hung up the phone. Strozzi chuckles at her tired expression.
Strozzi: Who knew ordering goat costumes could be so difficult?
Hildegard(sighs): Just wait until you put on a morality play... I don't know how Richard puts up with all the preparations since he insists on doing everything himself!
Strozzi: He also spends a lot of time pacing around the foyer yelling into his phone.
Hildegard: I thought that was normal.
Strozzi: Well, it's worse than normal these days. But then, I've already heard the complaints from Gustav, and they haven't even started yet..
Hildegard: Oh Gustav doesn't know what he's getting himself into, does he?
Strozzi(grins): That's true for a number of reasons...
Hildegard: For my part, I haven't decided yet what's the best way to let the guys know that they'll all be wearing goat costumes for the final number....
Later, Mussorgsky sorts through the mail in the middle of the foyer, dumping the letters in various piles on the floor. Enter Brahms from kitchen.
Brahms: you got the mail. anything for me?
Mussorgsky: hmm.. (flips through) heres one (mutters) siegfried and roy..
Brahms(takes letter): Oh, a letter from my publishers. must be a check.. (opens, scans - his expression becomes increasingly vexed as he does) WHAT!!!
Mussorgsky: hmm?
Brahms: what - grr -- (reads) "Dear Mr. Brahms, we at Breitkopf and H�rtel appreciate your submission of your latest set of songs. They are fine and poetic specimens in the genre. However, we find them to be too difficult for an audience of amateur musicians, so we must regretfully decline to publish them. We hope for your continued cooperation.." blah blah blah -- Do you believe this? Too difficult!?
Mussorgsky: oh.. Im never going to get anything published your songs are easy
Brahms: I KNOW!! (calls down hall) ROBERT!!!! YOUR PUBLISHERS!
Muss(shrugs, continues sorting mail): like how theyre roberts publishers now
Brahms: Well he sent me to them in the first place! (Liszt and Schumann appear from kitchen doorway, but Brahms continues complaining to Mussorgsky again) This is ridiculous - you know our neighbor Schubert writes worse songs than this -- he has one - (goes into piano room meanwhile) one that has octave triplets the WHOLE TIME! (starts banging out the opening of Der Erlk�nig and now has to yell over himself) FIVE MINUTES STRAIGHT!!! (Meanwhile Schumann picks up the letter, reads)
Schumann: Oh, grave times indeed, Young Eagle...and from Ludwig's publishers, no less.. I must fetch him.. (exit)
Liszt: That's an enchanting opening - what is that you're playing, Johannes? (walks up to piano)
Brahms: damn - easy - (stops playing, crosses arms, pouts)
Lizst: Well I wasn't saying otherwise. (sits next to him) I mean if you really wanted to make it difficult (reaches for bass registers) you could at least play octaves in bass too (opens song again - perfectly from memory, except with octaves in left hand) thats a bit... stronger - (stops when he sees the glare from Brahms) what?
Brahms: How do you get anything published?
Liszt: oh.. hah publishing... what I will when I will. But really, the key to financial success in the music industry is concerts and marketing. Oh don't pout - here, have a free "I heart Franz" pin. (produces a round plastic button with a picture of him - smiling, lids lowered - inside a red heart. He pins it on Brahms who is too furious to move. Liszt sits back in satisfaction; the pin tilts crookedly) There now. I must be off, but if you ever need any help starting a concert tour career, don't hesitate to ask me. (pats him patronizingly on the shoulder) Anyway, I should get going to the bakery... (exit)
Brahms(like a time bomb): .. gha - igrs..!! --ROOOOAAAAAGHHHHH!!
(Enter Schumann with Beethoven)
Beethoven(droll irony): Such rage... A woman must be involved.
Schumann: Nay, POLITICS, my friend! The Wagnerians have contacts in the Breitkopf and H�rtel headquarters!
Brahms: too difficult! they think my songs - too difficult! they took my SONATAS--
Schumann: Times have changed...
Beethoven(trying to scan letter): What.. don't they ask for a simplified version?
Brahms: No. Not as if I would give them one -- none of this publishing company dictating the directions of my ART!
(Enter Mozart)
Mozart(eyes bright at prospect of scandal): I heard the A-word! And from Johannes, no less - this must be serious indeed!
(Beethoven hands him the letter; he reads over it, laughs)
Mozart: Ahahah - chunkfuls of chords...
Brahms: THERE ARENT ANY!
Schumann: POLITICS!!
Mozart(sits on sofa laughing): ohhhh, scandal - is anyone writing this down?
Brahms: You won't be so amused when they stop publishing your music.
Mozart: Who - Breitkopf?? haha, I asked them a long time ago, and they said they weren't interested. Their loss. I'm more interested in putting on the opera right now - but I don't foresee any difficulties in publishing. What you should try to strive for is that wonderful intermediate point - no compromise of art, but something that will interest both the cognoscenti and the amateurs.. only the completely unmusical won't understand. (sees that Brahms is still annoyed) Well, to be perfectly honest, Johannes, if I were a publishing company I wouldn't let the difficulty of your songs keep me from publishing them - rather, I wouldn't publish them because they are damned boring, depressing things. "woeee is me, unloved in the world" - -
Brahms: You just don't understand the Romantic aesthetic!
Mozart: Well apparently the people who do are too incompetent to play it.
(Beethoven stifles a chuckle; Brahms smirks, although Schumann seems to be lost in thought..)
Brahms: They're good songs. I don't care what the publishers say.
Beethoven: That's the spirit--
Brahms: However, they are not making me any money sitting around the house.
Mozart: hahah -- so send Breitkopf something easy - and HAPPY. And...(adds cunningly) if it won't completely destroy your sense of artistic integrity, maybe something with a melody...
Brahms: (exasperated sigh) ohhh, all right. I can do that.
Mozart: I'd make a bet, but you're already low on funds. (adds cheerfully) Of course in the event that it is political and all this fails - you should just tell them to kiss your ass. (waltzes out merrily)
Schumann: Come, Young Eagle, let us consider the issue over a game of Schach. (gestures to the chess board; Beethoven takes the open piano bench, begins improvising.
Suddenly the front door slams open, and the voice of Tchaikovsky rings out. )
Tchaik: It's ten THOUSAND DEGREES!! How am I supposed to teach like this?! (Beethoven watches as he storms through the foyer; slamming footsteps on the staircase)
Beethoven: Is he home early?
Schumann: (tilts head quizzically)
Two minutes later, the front door opens again.
Bach: ahhhhhh Jesus!
Brahms: You sound like Zacara!!
Bach(appears in the doorway): Just look at you "Workless Bohemians" lazing about in the air conditioning! You know how air conditioned OUR office is? NOT AT ALL! (wipes sweat off brow) So I came home early.
Beethoven: Don't you have to teach?
Bach: No, that's the grand irony -- it's just teachers' day; the kids have off -- Is that an "I Heart Franz" pin, Johannes?
Brahms(rips it off furiously): GRAH!
Bach: Ok...anyway, so the guys picked TODAY to repair our office air conditioner! I think I'm just going to take a nap (exit)
(Silence as Beethoven looks to Schumann and Brahms.)
Beethoven: huh.. and I thought it was fine today...I walked into town and back!
Upstairs, Tchaikovsky is in his room looking for "Cooler clothing." He has popped home from the university just for this purpose. "I can't be stuck to my seat when the demons show up for office hours!" As he happens past Strozzi's dresser, he notices a gleam from the top drawer, which is slightly ajar.
Tchaik: Are those handcuffs?? (opens drawer; instead he finds a CD) Ah, what is this??
(He sees Bach wandering past in the hall)
Hey, JS! Come look at this! NWA "Straight Outta Compton".... 2 Live Crew??? (shuffles through CDs)
Bach(enters): What?!
Tchaik: Barbara's secret hip-hop collection???
Bach(joins him): Are you kidding?? (reads case) Notorious BIG "Ready to Die," Lil'Kim...
Tchaik: "Hard Core" hahhaha -- I didn't think Barbara was into that?
(Enter Strozzi)
Strozzi: HEY! What are you guys doing?!
(They spin around, but she grabs the CDs away and clutches them protectively)
Strozzi: A girl's CD collection is private!
Bach: It better be with a selection like this!! hahahahha!!
Strozzi: Don't be rooting through my drawers, guys!
Tchaik: Oh come on, Barbara - it's me. I saw a gleam and I thought it was my handcuffs.
Strozzi: Well! it's possible that there's more than one pair of handcuffs in this household, you know!
Bach: Ohhhh, handcuffs and hip hop, what kind of housemate did we agree to take in?! hahahahha!
Back to the piano room: Beethoven is playing piano, Brahms and Schumann playing chess.. No conversation. The angry voice of Wagner can be heard steadily growing louder.. until he enters the room and marches around.
Wagner: It's damned insulting that these fool creditors should assume I have nothing more significant to do in this sphere than organize my Life Cycle around their bills! (cell phone rings; he checks number) DEVIL TAKE THEM! why of all the nerve to display such--
Beethoven(stops playing): Richard! go out and get a drink!!
Wagner: Excuse me, Ludwig, however, I am in no mood to be quaffing nectar when my creditors are ready to have it out over the phone -
Brahms: --the Red Hedgehog is doing a deal on lattes right now, I think. Large for $1.50...
Wagner(smirks at him): Of course, there's nothing to be accomplished in this household with you ne'er-do-wells; One might as well venture forth into the wide bosom of the world and spend his last 2 dollars on hot milk!! (storms out)
Brahms(muttering): Complements the hot air...
Schumann(looks up pained): The very shop that suckles the striving artist, Hannes? Why not send him to The unholy revelation?!
Brahms(shrugs): He at least has the sense not to go there.
Schumann: Ah verily, he is a son of the chosen people... (ponders) and yet, for three silvers a drink, who would reject the maternal benevolence of the chosen people...?
Beethoven(suddenly): They're not doing a deal on lattes - I was just there this morning!
Brahms: Yeah, I know.
Beethoven: -- he's going to kick your ass when he gets back!
Brahms(rolls eyes): when has he ever managed to do that?
Beethoven: You're just lucky I was there the other day to take that hammer from him!
Brahms: Whatever, Ludwig. Antonio and I are taking care of him at the bridge table tonight.
Schumann(wide-eyed): ...shall I bring the cannoli?
Brahms: not like that! I haven't joined the mafia yet...It's your turn anyway, Robert.
Following the Further Adventures of Richard Wagner...
Soon we find the man strutting down main street, the pleasantly hot weather having got the better of his bad mood. He sings to himself (and the rest of the street) as he goes. Finally he reaches the Red Hedgehog, the German bakery of choice, and marches up to the counter. In one dark corner on a purple leather couch is a couple trying to swallow each others' tongues; along the window is a table of young bespectacled, hair-enveloped men arguing about marxist politics; and in the middle of the room at a table alone, a handsome young man with a huge 'fro split Frankenstein-esque in two directions. he stares into the corner dreamily and mutters to himself. He wears his velvet shirt with the collar popped. Wagner, of course, is too intent on his latte to notice any of this.
Wagner: Good morrow, sir. I'll have one of these storied large lattes for $1.50.
Barrista: They start at $2.00 for a small..
Wagner : How now!! I was informed of a marketing scheme by which large lattes were being sold for one dollar and 50 cents; how do you --why I hardly have but (pulls spare change from pockets, begins counting) 25-50-75-one dollar --! (slams down the four quarters on the counter) 10-20-30-40-5-50-5-60-5 (counts pennies) 6-7-8-9-70-1-2-3! (slams down) One dollar and seventy-three cents!
Barrista(impassively): You can get a large decaf coffee.
Wagner: DECAF -! What nerve have you even to conceive of such an unholy suggestion - how is the thinking Man to function on your souped-up water with unnatural coffee flavouring that is often described as "decaffeinated" -- "Devitalized" is more appropriate- why -- Is this any way to treat RICHARD WAGNER?!?
(Just then the handsome young man with the popped collar appears at Wagner's side, his eyes asparkle.)
YoungMan: Excuse me - are you the great Richard Wagner?
Wagner(sniffs nobly): I am indeed, Sir, and whom do I have the pleasure of meeting?
YoungMan: I am Ludwig Friedrich Wilhelm the second, (sighs) although - that's hardly important in the presence of Richard Wagner - I believe -I hate to use such a cliche - but I honestly think I may be your number one admirer. (turns imperiously to the barrista) Fritz, you will award this great artist a large latte on the house...
Barrista: Right away, sir (goes to fix it; Wagner meanwhile is absorbed in lusty calculation of how much wealth stands before him -- the velvet head to toe, the white jade belt in rings; the rainbow of colored rings on every finger (ROYGBIV and a signet ring on his right pinky); the brocade shoes with gold buckles. But at the neck - merely, a single gold chain.)
Ludwig(to Wagner): Lohengrin - a masterpiece! You can't imagine, but it has defined my young life!
Wagner: Ah, my Saviour who may demand free large lattes as he wills - come let us sit and discuss it - perhaps you would be equally interested to know that I am at this very moment in the midst of preparations for the production of my latest opera Tristan und Isolde!
Ludwig(enthralled) It is too good to be true!!
Following the Further Adventures of Franz Liszt....
Liszt is just entering the hospital and beginning the search for Ives's room. He smiles at the female nurses and nods respectfully to the old people with walkers; off his left arm hangs a bag of French breads from l'Apocalypse. Finally he finds Ives in a corner room...
Liszt(enters cautiously): Charles, are you awake?
Ives: ohhh, is that Franz Liszt?
Liszt: Indeed. (sits at bedside) How are you?
(Ives is in bed, with neck brace, eyes glazed)
Ives: I hate Family Matters. Damned midday programming.
Liszt: I don't know how Modest stands it..
Ives: Amen to that! Of course he's braindead anyway - and it's probably because of all the TV. (turns it off) So how goes it at the house?
Liszt: Well, eh, you haven't exactly missed much. Hildegard was ordering costumes for her play.. Johannes was upset about Breitkopf and H�rtel refusing to publish some of his songs...
Ives: Glad to know some publishing house has the sense not to accept any of that ninny music!
Liszt(attempts to smile): Well, I encouraged him to give more piano concerts.
Ives(as if announcing a giant revelation): You know what I think, Franz?
Liszt: What?
Ives: A man shouldn't be concerned with getting music published, or what the "public" thinks. He just ought to be true to himself and his own artistic sentiments. And that's why it's important to have real work, because you can't expect to make a living with music unless you sell out.
Liszt: Actually, I think a good many of our housemates would agree with you. It's simply that we all have... rather different.. artistic sentiments. (pauses) And work ethics.
Ives: I KNOW, but the difference is: they're wrong! (sighs, Liszt remains quiet) You know I called into the office and the guys told me to take off the next two days, but they're letting me out of here later today. So I guess I'll just take off tomorrow and rest at home.
(Liszt looks slightly alarmed, but recovers before Ives notices.)
Liszt: Ah, it'll be nice to rest in the peace and quiet - especially during this heat wave. (picks up bag) I was just at the French bakery, would you like anything?
Ives: What, eat the product of those namby-pansy Frogs? No, thanks, I'll hold strong until dinner at the house!
Liszt: so.... how did this happen?
Ives: Agh, idiot drivers... ( fade to a new scene: a flashback from this morning when Ives is crawling in downtown bumper-to-bumper. Honking horns and angry cries fill up the background as he speaks) You know people can't drive in this town to begin with, and then the heat fries their brains. I don't even know how these idiots pass their driving tests in the first place! So anyway, I was trying to get to work on time but there was some traffic jam on 5th.. (flashback Ives is leaning out his window trying to see around the SUV in front of him) this asshole hippy is driving some big boat -- EVEN THOUGH WE LIVE IN SUBURBIA --- I mean it's one thing to have a boat that big then you gotta get black tinted windows so nobody can see a damned thing through you because GOD FORBID you get any direct sunlight on your precious skin that you spend hundreds of dollars artificially sun-tanning anyway!!! Was a goddamned soccer mom, I'd bet money on it. So of course I have no clue what's going on up there. Probably some idiot old lady trying to get fresh bread - you know how they just cross whenever. (Liszt nods sympathetically) So I'm stuck behind this ass, then some bastard is trying to parallel park on our right, right next to this SUV (flashback Ives looks over to the parallel parker, now backing over the sidewalk and upsetting the young couple sitting on the bench nearby; Ives rolls eyes and honks his horn) And of course this one can't park to save his life - he's gonna knock down the goddamned bench on the sidewalk, right? (flashback Ives is angrily tapping his hands on the wheel, looking around for a distraction) So he starts to pull out again and asshole-SUV-soccer-mom in front of me freaks out because obviously her damned boat is too big for her to maneuver properly and so she tries to pull into the left lane (as we see this happen, flashback Ives has been successfully distracted by an attractive young woman walking her dog on the other side of the street; he is gaping) And there's CARS there, of course, because we're in a goddamned TRAFFIC JAM, but does she look? NO! she owns the road, she drives a Lexus S-U-f#$king-V! (flashback Ives is still gaping, head turning along as the woman walks by - he does not notice the incompetent parallel parker now backing up in HIS direction) So the poor guy in the left lane tries to get out of the way and looks at me -- I can't go anywhere!- and the asshole who's trying to parallel park hits his fricking gas pedal or something, and he comes backing up into ME!! (flashback Ives is bumped, enough for his head to jerk forward)
Liszt: What?!!
Ives: COMPLETELY INCOMPETENT, THESE PEOPLE! agh (hand to head) damn I'm going to have headaches for the next month, I know it.. So anyway, I just honk at him (flashback Ives is furious, his view of the girl having been obstructed by the left lane driver, and now the bump from the parallel parker) and I try to brace myself and then the idiot in the left lane BEHIND us starts honking because apparently HE can see well enough to know that we ought to be moving by now -- but we're all jammed up and SUV-soccer-mom just drives off like nothing happened. These damned women can't drive!
Liszt: Well, it sounds like a lot of people can't drive. Of both sexes.
Ives: Yeah, but they're worse. And so here I am (sighs) What a day, huh?
Liszt: I'm sorry. Maybe you should try to get some rest...
Ives: I suppose. Unless you want to play cards? (pulls out deck from bedside table)
Liszt: Uh - .. (cant think of an excuse) sure...
Wagner is in an exceedingly joyous mood when he returns to the house at 6:30. He marches into the foyer and stands, arms raised, announcing to the house:
Wagner: I am as the Mighty Thor returning victorious from a raid on a neighboring solar system! I am prepared for further BATTLE -- JOHANN SEBASTIAN!!!!
(Bach sticks his head out from kitchen, munching on nacho)
Bach: Hey, Richard, ready for bridge?
Wagner: Jawohl!
Bach: Good, come in - we can get set up and plan some strategy.
(As Wagner goes into kitchen, enter Zacara from TV room)
Zacara: Hey? (looks around foyer) Where's my bridge buddy? Isn't the game at 7? Shouldn't we be trying to get the opponents drunk by now?
(Enter Muss, from TV room)
Muss: Thats my suggestion (adds quietly) ill lendyou my 150proof rum
Zacara(shaking head): Ohh, Modest, I don't want to know what that'd cost me...
Soon Zacara, Brahms, Bach, and Wagner are in the kitchen, seated around the table and ready to get started. Wagner is dealing. Meanwhile, Liszt rummages through the refrigerator, and Mozart observes, perched on a counter finishing Bach's nachos.
Mozart: Where's the big crowd?? It was much worse when Modest and Franz were involved!
Liszt: I can't believe we have this much mango sauce in one refrigerator... (begins piling up tupperwares on the counter
Enter Schumann, munching on what appears to be a piece of lettuce.)
Schumann: Salutations! (stands behind Brahms, hand on chair, looking at his hand as he picks up every new card)
Wagner: What foul chicanery is this? Cheaters OUT!
Schumann(offended): Why I have spoken not a word, Sir!
Zacara: hey, hey, Robert, you're making me nervous. How am I supposed to live up to the Schumann-Brahms bridge standard here?
(Schumann sniffs discerningly, looks across the room without deigning to answer)
Bach(to Z): Hah, that's right, you don't know any of the secret communications! You're just doomed, Antonio, but if you accept your fate now, the game might be enjoyable. You're a good Catholic, aren't you? Don't you know how to suffer properly??
Zacara(smirks at him): You know, J.S., I'm starting to doubt that whole "Jesus" thing..
Brahms: I DO know how to bid "Normally," you guys realize that?
Zacara(to Bach): ah hah - see? Who's doomed now?
Wagner(beginning to realize he is playing bridge with a group of people who spend a good deal of time together): Hem. Might you actually BID then, and cease holding court on the subject?
Liszt(still in refrigerator, sniffing something wrapped in aluminum foil): What - is this MEATLOAF?
Mozart: hahaha, Meatloaf. I wouldn't be surprised if you found another full 7-course meal in there after last night!
Brahms(frowns at hand): One heart.
Schumann(to L): Halt, foul fiend, that is property of the Divine Chiarina!
Wagner(at B): WHAT! one heart?! Of all the nerve.
Liszt: Well, why is it in OUR refrigerator?
Brahms: Yes, one heart! Perfectly legitimate opening bid.
Bach: oh God, they're at it already.. on the first bid, no less!
Mozart: I swore that I wouldn't bring the camera until the later rounds... But then, we might not actually make it that far.
Schumann(wistfully): It was too much to take upon herself to have transported it away with her yesterday evening. (tone turns dark) Hands Off.
Zacara: I'm getting the sense from this distribution that maybe they should have been partners..hahah
Liszt: I was just investigating, Robert, it's OK, look, I'm putting it back in the fridge.. (makes big show of doing so)
Bach: Can I bid now, guys, or are you going to have a full-out debate over 'one heart'?
Wagner: One heart. I disagree. Fine, continue, dear partner.
Bach: one spade.
Brahms(to W): Do, dear opponent, graciously allow me to remind you that you dealt this crap.
(They glare at each other)
Mozart: OH COME ON, GUYS, JUST FIGHT AND GET IT OVER WITH!!
Wagner(sniffs): I value the old saying: He who maketh crap pie from crap shall win the day.
Mozart(hand to head): hahahah!
Liszt: If a fight breaks out, I'm not here, ok?
Bach: I don't think we realize the extent of the crap we're in, Antonio. (they snicker)
(Enter Hildegard, who pauses when she sees the bridge game.)
Hildegard: Oh, I see you're trying to channel your masculine aggression into something slightly more civilized than bar fighting. (Brahms and Wagner have to turn around to glare at her)
Zacara: Don't worry, Hildegard, I have my trusty poison-tipped umbrella here in case it gets out of hand. (gestures to said umbrella leaning against wall beside him)
Schumann: Ah, I thought it was for defense in the coming possum raid.
Zacara: heh, moving right along... 2 diamonds (Brahms gives him a pained look)
Hildegard: Anyway, the rest of you guys should join us for morality play rehearsal in the basement, ok? This includes your big scene, Wolfgang. (he hops off the counter) The rest of you can continue your man-to-man combat, or whatever it is.
Brahms(as if honestly impressed): Thanks, it's generous of you to let us play the card game we scheduled two days ago, Hildegard.
Hildegard(looks down at him, eyes murderous): I hope you'll remember this when you try to schedule regular rehearsals for a performance of your music.. (exit, still talking) if he ever finishes anything, that is! (Mozart grins, follows with Liszt and Schumann)
Zacara(cracks up): One of these days, you're going to die, and the mob will honestly have to disavow any connection to the crime..
Bach: Seriously, Johannes, if there had been a blunt heavy object within arms' reach, she would have just brought it down over your head..
Wagner: Poor persecuted woman trying to mount an impressive stage production for the community -- to be greeted with such sloth and incompetence!! Who could blame her!
Brahms(turns slowly to him): It's Your Bid...
Wagner: Two Spades, By Thor!
One hour later...
As the bridge game continues to heat up, the remaining housemates rehearse the morality play in the basement. Hildegard sits on the couch with her script; Muss next to her, glass of "Coke" in hand. Ives (neck in brace), Beethoven, Tchaikovsky, Liszt, and Schumann are situated around the room, observing from various points. Strozzi and Mozart are standing next to the pool table waiting for instructions.
Hildegard: I have to say, Modest, this carpet was a good choice.
Muss: Troika Home Furnishings.. never disappoints me..
Mozart(picks up pool cue): All right, lets get to work..
Hildegard: You are all the minor sins in this scene, Wolfgang.. I know you wanted to ad lib, but you're going to have to do more than play pool ....
Strozzi: Oh, come on, Wolfgang, just see how many sins you can commit in 2 minutes!
Mozart(winks at her): Ok, there's one..
Strozzi: Better...
Mozart(waltzes over to Mussorgsky, grabs his drink): And now a little alcohol!
Strozzi: Stealing, check.
(Mozart takes a swig, sprays it immediately over carpet) JESUS a little coke in the rum, Modest?!!!
Strozzi: boozing, taking the Lord's name in vain, making a mess; good, good, good..
Mozart: this is disgusting (goes to wet bar, dumps it down drain)
Muss: HEY HEY--
Strozzi: destroying others' property..
Mozart: egh - ew (sticks head under spout, drinks) Agh, god.. disgusting so much rum
Muss: that was my 150 proof rum!!
Hildegard(puts a hand on his shoulder): It's ok, Modest... you're better off without it. (he regards her hand suspiciously, she removes it embarrassed)
Tchaik: drinking from the sink - that's another one!
Strozzi: That's not a sin.
Tchaik: It was when I was growing up!
Strozzi: Oh, Pyotr, it explains so much...
Tchaik: Look, drinking from the bottle - that's bad too!
Mozart(hand around peppermint schnapps): hey, it's my schnapps! Barbara, you should have some!
Strozzi: Tempting others to evil!!
Tchaik: What I feel is missing in this scene is breakdancing, Wolfy..
Beethoven: And a cowbell.
Mozart(laughs, gulps down more schnapps): Ahhhh.. Thats DEFINITELY a sin! (starts making rhythm/bass effects; hops onto pool table, starts dancing) Dance bay-bay!!!! SHOW DAT FUNK! (does some moves clumsily; the others roar)
Strozzi: hahahahahah!
Ives(covers eyes): That is a SIN, all right! hahahahah!
Mozart(high falsetto): DANCE WIT ME!! (accidently kicks a ball onto the carpet)
Tchaik: WOO!
Hildegard(trying not to laugh): Modest.. my morality play is .... not very effective at this moment..
Muss: hahahah hes so bad...
Mozart: WONT ANYONE DANCE WIT ME!!?
Beethoven: The worst part is, he's not even drunk yet.
Schumann(nods gravely): Indeed, alcohol is nothing to the minor sins.
Tchaik: I'll dance with you! (joins him on pool table, which is now dangerously crowded)
Beethoven: Ok, that one is drunk.
Schumann: (shakes head)
HIldegard: Given the outrageous levels of amount always being consumed in this house, don't you find it strange, Modest, that we don't have a separate sin just for drunkenness?
Muss: thatsbecause itsnotasin
Hildegard: SOOO frustrating, you know!?
(Mozart and Tchaik join hands, swinging around in a circle)
Mozart: FUNKY TOWN!!
Ives: Isn't homosexuality a sin too?
Hildegard: No! We're not dealing with that in this morality play! Guys, be careful!!
Beethoven: Someone's going to slip on a pool ball.... it's like watching a train wreck...
(Franz Liszt, who has been leaning against the wall casually, strolls toward table -- there's a sudden THUD from upstairs; Schumann and Beethoven look toward the ceiling)
Schumann: Soft! the possums...!
Cut to kitchen; Zacara is hunched over table laughing; Brahms laughing, leaning back in chair, arms folded across stomach; Bach also laughing, but getting up from his seat -- Wagner sits on the floor, his chair overturned directly behind him..
Brahms: AHHAHAHAHAHAH!!!
Zacara; AHGAHHAHOAHOHOHO - HOW HOW?!! Howjda do that, Richy??? AHAHAHH!!
Wagner: IMBECILES! Why I haven't the faintest notion what just transpired!!!
Bach: hahaha you fell out of your chair, that's what! you stupid ass!!! hahahhaha!! (offers him his hand)
Back in the basement--
Tchaik: CENTRIPETAL FORCE!!
Mozart: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Ives: Don't you people know how dangerous that is!? You're going to trip - I don't want anyone else in the hospital today! the TV station selection is awful, and I bet your insurance policies are crap!!
(Sure enough, Mozart slips on another pool ball, loses his balance, starts to fall backward and in panic, lets go of Tchaik's hands -- he flies back and off the table)
Hildegard: GUYS!
Muss: uh oh ..
Strozzi(helps break Mozart's fall as he topples down): Whoa - are you ok, Wolfy?
(Liszt, too is ready for the disaster and catches Tchaik)
Tchaik: AGHH!!! (looks up at Liszt) You saved me, Franz!
Liszt: Well, I was fairly certain one or both of you were going to fall... I'm just glad you fell in the right direction..
Tchaik(wipes off forehead, making no effort to stand on his own): Heh... yeah, how often does that happen?
Mozart(turns around and embraces Strozzi): DEAR MAID!! YOU SAVED ME!! HOW SHALL I EVER RE-- (kisses her; Strozzi is shocked, tries to back away)
Muss: AHHAHAHA!!
Schumann: AH, SCANDAL, MINE EYES!
Hildegard: WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART!
Strozzi(pushes him away): Whew! OK! That's enough minor sins for one two-minute span, I think!!
Mozart(throws himself at her feet): Minor?! MINOR?! It was a FLAGRANT, OUTRAGEOUS, PASSIONATE - Why the sparks were flying, how can you call it MINOR?
Beethoven(to Schumann): And he makes fun of us for being Romantic..
Liszt: Uh, all right, Pyotr, I'm going to let you go now...
Tchaik: Oh, right, heh, yes, thanks for the warning - gentlemanly as always, Franz Liszt.
(Liszt nods ever so slightly, returns to his spot leaning against the wall; Tchaik takes the empty seat on the couch next to Mussorgsky)
Strozzi(pulls out script): "Ah, I see even if all the minor sins are embodied in ONE, as is so often the case (looks down at Mozart sternly; he grins back appeasingly) ....
Cut to kitchen later where our bridge players are in the middle of a particularly intense round. Zacara has laid down his cards, and Brahms is playing the hand - a difficult contract of 5 spades. Brahms has lost track of the heart suit, and can't decide what strategy to pursue now. He is trying mentally to go over the last six tricks without appearing too nervous, but Bach and Wagner can smell the fear. Zacara has already declared that he can't watch, and is drinking his diet coke from the foyer, leaving his partner surrounded by two blood-thirsty opponents. The long, heavy silence is finally interrupted as Wagner taps a finger on the table..
Brahms(adjusts collar): Uh.. is it warm in here?
Wagner: I feel fine.
Brahms: yeah.. maybe crack open the window?
(Silence as no one budges; Wagner makes a point of staring at Zacara's queen of hearts)
Bach: take your time, Johannes, we wouldn't want to rush you...
Brahms: Ohhhh, you're definitely not Jesus.
Bach: Hey, you're the one playing with the mobboss. (grins) But I shouldn't distract you..
Brahms: (takes deep breath, studies hand.. what did Bach play on the heart trick??)
Wagner: Although.... in the interests of having some rest before the next diurnal cycle is complete, I would encourage you to continue at some point in the near future..
Brahms: I'm thinking...
Bach(turns to him): ...You don't know where the king of hearts is, Do You?
Wagner: Tsk, tsk...Poor Queen of Hearts, stranded in the dummy hand. Could be salvaged for a pretty trick if Johann Sebastian holds her husband, but alas, (draws out last words as if matinee villain) she could be disastrously shipwrecked if I have the King.....
Brahms: You're bluffing. (puts down the 10 of hearts; Bach throws down the jack; Brahms pulls the queen from Zacara's dummy hand. Wagner pauses dramatically)
Wagner: agh, what an insult, JS, he calls my bluff! The bold nerve of this Pretender! He dares make a fool of the Great Richard Wagner - the beginning of a neverending string of blasphemies to be heaped upon my name -- why, if only I had a valiant champion (slowly pulls out card, lays it on table) with which... to Shut.. Him.. Up. (It is the King of Hearts)
Brahms: FUCK!
Bach&Wagner: HAHAHAHAHAHAH! (they high five across the table)
Zacara(from hallway): OH NO!
Brahms(throws rest of hand on table in disgust): contract down by one!!!
Bach: Ah, but don't feel too bad, Hannes, that contract was doomed from the start - either we'd get you in hearts or in diamonds - I had the 10, you see..
Brahms(hands in hair): Jesus, you are a MACHINE!
Zacara(returns): He's like an EVIL Jesus!
Wagner: What, praytell, is the meaning of all this "Jesus" nonsense?
Bach: Inside joke - I commented -- facetiously -- that I was Jesus, and they've been considering the veracity of it ever since.. But I promise, I am neither Jesus NOR the Anti-Jesus. I just like cards. I warned you two!
Brahms(shaking head): Worse than Robert..
Wagner: Hereby are you justly punished for relying on your regular partner!!
Brahms: I don't want to hear it! You're the one benefitting from this -- (gestures at Bach) - this -- This one.
Wagner: I assure you, I knew where lay the King of Hearts all along! (he and Bach laugh)
Zacara: eh, eh, va bene, mio cuochino! Better to take the contract and lose then let them have one and win.
Wagner(picks up score card): Ah, but you were vulnerable and we doubled. 200 points to us!
Zacara It was the RIGHT THING to do!
(Enter Beethoven, Liszt, and Strozzi)
Strozzi: Hey guys, still playing?
Liszt: What's happening?
Bach: We're winning, that's what. Mmm, and I'm getting hungry. Could go for a hamburger right now.
Zacara: Why don't you go make one? The grill's all clean and ready to go since last time.
Bach: Well, it's also 11:30..
Beethoven: Fine time for a hamburger.
Brahms(irritably): Franz, why aren't you playing in this bridge game? (Zacara snickers; Liszt frowns)
Liszt: ... I didn't want to get involved in the death match, why...?
Wagner: Is it almost midnight already?? My, how does the tempus fugit when one is enjoying himself!
Zacara: Cool it, or you're getting an umbrella in your side.
Strozzi: What's the score?
Bach: We have 2,250 they have 1,700.
Strozzi: uhh....
Bach: We always play to 3,000. (yawns) but we may have to cut this short. Some of us have work tomorrow. (he, Brahms, and Zacara stare down Wagner)
Wagner: What! Only "some" of you actually have work!
Brahms: How much poison is actually in that umbrella, Antonio?
Bach: Ok, let's get the show on the road. One last round, all right?
Brahms: But we'd need a slam to beat you...
Wagner: Might as well foreit now!
Zacara: ohhhhh, come on! It's worth a try!
Bach(to W): Whatever you do, don't double!
Wagner: I am well aware of the scoring effects of doubling at this point...
Brahms: I need a drink. (gets up) Deal...