When Hildegard's Away...
Tchaik: hey guys! thissmy friend Igor
Schumann(unenthusiastically): Ahoy.
Igor(nonplussed): is this your housemate Pyotr?
Brahms: Yes.
Tchaik: whaddreyou duys--guys doing up at thishour?
Brahms: Playing chess.
Tchaik: hahahahahahah!!hahahhh youguys... whatalark! woooooooooo!!
--Cut to backyard where Beethoven is outside leaning against the dogloo working in the breeze. He looks up, eyes narrowing--
Meanwhile, Igor is anxious to go and dumps Tchaik in the arms of Schumann, whose nose twitches in distaste.
Igor: I didn't think he was sober enough to find his own way home. So I brought him. Didnt want him barfing all over my apartment. 'Least he remembered his address. Bye (turns and heads back to his car. Brahms and Schumann are left on the porch with Tchaik, who is trying to point out his favorite constellations as he slowly slides down in Schumann's grasp.)
Tchaik: See? see that one?? Over there! itsursa minor... no major..whatever, you know, oneoftha bearones--bearasinthe animal--
(Brahms and Schumann exchange a glance over Tchaik's head; drag him into the foyer)
Schumann: Alack, alas! The scrawny rook, abandoned in its infancy, is now laying aloft to avenge its pawns' deaths! How shall it fly with no master?
Tchaik: hahahahaaha youguys thesechess metaphors're hilarious-
Brahms: What - he wasn't speaking metaphorically!
Schumann: Is that so, Young Eagle?
Tchaik: ahhahaahh-
Brahms: Let's just dump him with Modest - he knows how to deal with drunk Russians.
Tchaik: Nononothats not necessary.. Imnot that drunk (tries to stand on his own.. in vain)
Schumann: So said the fly as it slipped into the goblet.
Tchaik: notas badas Modest, no. (manages to stand for about 3 second before falling again, but luckily both Schumann and Brahms are supporting him) ok, christ maybeiam.. aghhhh turninginto modest!! (suddenly bursts into sobs) wauuughhuuugh! ohwhatwasithinking?? ohgodwhatamidoingwithmylife??!
Brahms: Oh no, this is a terrible time for an existential crisis-
Schumann: Quite on time, contrariwise! Like the rest of Mussolini's trains! (smiles brightly; Tchaik continues in self-pity)
Tchaik: IthoughtifIwentoutandhadsomethingtodrinkandhadsomefun (sniffs) thenitwouldmakemefeelbetter butimhopeless!! gah (more sobbing; Brahms wants to be a thousand miles away, but Schumann listens sympathetically, head tilted downward to hear better) ohgoodgodyouguys whatamisupposedtodowithmyself?
Brahms(annoyed): Yes, yes, that's what everyone is wondering these days. Don't think you're the only one.
Tchaik: noway! Imeanyouguyssshouldbehappy (chokes on phlegm, coughs) hagh - you--hagh hagh (Schumann beats him on the back) aghthasnskss imeanyourlotissgoodyouhavethisgreatartisticbondandyoucanalwaysgotoeachotherintimesofneedanditslikethisgreet-great--greekheroicfriendshipofold!
Brahms: For the last time: We are not gay, Pyotr!
Schumann(to Tchaik, eyes glistening): Ah, verily, Man, you hath spoken words of noble import! For there are indeed many ancient mysteries of the human spirit that the Greeks understood as well as any--
Brahms: (hand to head)
Tchaik: Ohitstrue whatacivilization!
Schumann: What a civilization indeed! To what new artistic achievements might man aspire in that ancientscape, untrammeled and unfettered--
Tchaik: --bytodaysstiflingmoralstrictures, true true! (they are worked into a Romantic frenzy, talking to each other and gesturing at the ceiling)
Brahms: Uh - guys? hey, shut up! (points at staircase, where Hildegard is standing. She is pointing at the "HAVE TAKEN VOW OF SILENCE" sign, and in her right hand she holds up a new sign)
Tchaik whastissay? itsall blurriny
Brahms: "Have taken vow of silence. So should you"
Hildegard: (scowls, writes with marker on the new sign)
Brahms: "It's 2AM"....
Tchaik: I wonderiftheyhad clocks inancientGreece? (Hildegard disappears)
Brahms: Yeah, Ok, I got dibbs on the sofa in the basement. (starts to go) Robert, make sure he doesn't choke on his own vomit.
Schumann(winces): Dear comrade, recall the Greek philosophy that a pure soul is encouraged by purity of body - and tongue!
Tchaik: imnotthadrunk...amI? maybeiam.. ohgod... (starts sobbing all over again)
Late morning. Liszt makes his way toward the piano room. It's been quiet for the past ten minutes and he assumes the piano is free, but no: Tchaikovsky is sitting on the bench wearing sunglasses, but otherwise in decent condition. He is talking to Mussorgsky, who sprawls across the sofa, propped up only enough so that he may sip his glass of alcohol. Apparently Tchaikovsky and Mussorgsky are in the middle of a serious artistic discussion, and there seems to be little chance of freeing the piano...Liszt pauses in the doorway to listen.
Tchaik: a perfect little tune - with this folk harmonization (plays a catchy Russian-sounding melody)
Mussorgsky: GOOD didnt know you were capableof writing music free from the hegemonic conventionsofthe leading tone..
Tchaik: My name doesn't start with B.. I can be modal if I feel like it.
Mussorgsky: but only after you prove that its justa cutesy sideshow
Tchaik: no... Now listen - (plays some more -stumbles about the keys) agh, I have to practice more.. too busy - anyway, here's the violin and viola in canon-
Mussorgsky: canon! what for??
Tchaik: -because it sounds good!
Mussorgsky: all right thats theonly acceptable reason i sppose
Tchaik: Now, Modest, I come to you for your opinion because you're Russian - but I dont want you writing my string quartet for me!
Mussorgsky: dontworry theres noway illbe writing a string quartet for anyone!
(Liszt enters, amused and interested; he pulls a chair next to the couch)
Liszt: Pray tell what's wrong with a string quartet, Modest....?
Mussorgsky: damn contrived dry things if iwanttodo crossword puzzles ill gotothe newspaper not writem in my music!
Liszt: haha!
Mussorgsky: then weretold that if we dont writecrosswrod puzzles weredumb whenitsreally a matter of hiding oneslackof inspiration the dry exercises imean
Tchaik: What, Modest! You can be inspired and write a string quartet - what are you on about!?
Liszt: Have you talked to Richard about this?? He agrees with you exactly.
Mussorgsky: nahhhh whats his solution ? equally contrived operas about rivermaidens and gold fairytales !
Tchaik: And what's wrong with craftsmanship anyway!? No one builds a house and ignores the rules of structure - it would collapse! (hand to head, mutters) like my life these days..
Mussorgsky: that may be true but ima musician not anarchitect!
Tchaik: No (sighs) Modest, I'm just saying, it's all part and parcel of being a composer. You should study it as a matter of fact.
Mussorgsky: No its not my style endof story
Tchaik: I dont know what you're scared of -its not going to destroy the independence of your voice as a composer.
Mussorgsky(grumbles) pansy crossword puzzlers.. wake meup when youve written something interesting (closes eyes)
Tchaik: but - wait --
Liszt: Oh here, I'll wake him up, Pyotr, let me play a little something..
Tchaik(stands,irritated): Why does no one like my music? Too stupid for some and too contrived for the rest! Doesn't anyone understand me!? (walks out) Im going to lie down, forget this.
Liszt(sits at piano, cracks knuckles): Modest..
Mussorgsky: mm?
Liszt: If you're going to have a hissy fit and flounce from the room, please do so now, or forever hold your peace.
Mussorgsky: nah, wouldnt be anygood lessi waited foryou start playing.
Liszt: I'll take that as a 'shut up and play.'
Mussorgsky: right (yawns)
Basement: Mozart trots down the stairs with plate of steaming eggs and bacon. He sets it down on the pool table, cracks his knuckles and reaches for a cue stick.
Mozart; ahhhh, nothing like a little morning pool to set one on his right way in the world.. (checks watch) heh, ok, it's still morning. (suddenly yells) RICHHHAAAARD! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!
Wagner(coming down stairs with sandwich): I'm coming forthwith! But I'll have you know the mighty genius cannot be rushed into discoursing about his music dramas..
Mozart: Who said anything about music dramas? I just want to play pool! (reaches for plate of eggs, finds it missing) Hey... (looks around table - turns around to wet bar) AGH! Hahahahaha! What the hell are you doing?!
Brahms(mouthful of eggs, glass of mysterious alcoholic substance on bar): You thaid you wanted to play pool-
Mozart: hahah! AND eat my breakfast, thank you! (snatches plate back; some egg spills on bar counter)
Wagner(joins him at pool table): Breakfast - what is the meaning of all this nonsense? It's middaymeal time! (sees B) Aren't you supposed to be subjecting yourself to pointless manual labor - something about bread and cheese, wasn't it?
Brahms: I work at Ruby Tuesday now. What time is it?
Mozart: oooh, can you get us a private house party there?? OPEN BAR?!
Brahms: Uh... I don't think so. What time is it?
Wagner: Three quarters past eleven.
Brahms: Damn it. I'm supposed to be there in 15 minutes!
Mozart: ahaahah!
(Brahms starts to go for the stairs, but Wagner calls him off)
Wagner: Perhaps you'd be interested to know that our Hildegard is this very moment scrubbing the foyer with bleach and a toothbrush!
Brahms: oh no-
Mozart: BACK DOOR! (pointing excitedly) WINDOW! (Brahms hops on sofa and scrambles out the basement window. Mozart turns to Wagner) But.. she wasn't scrubbing the foyer when I was up there just now.
Wagner(smirks): Ah, mayhap I was confused. I seem to recall being confused about $1.50 lattes at the Red Hedgehog last week as well. Indeed, it may well be that Hildegard was simply meditating on the back porch...
Mozart: HAHAHAH!
--Brahms is no sooner back on his feet than he nearly trips into Hildegard, who is meditating in the grass-
Brahms: agh - ah!! (dances around, arms flailing)
Hildegard: (closes eyes, takes deep breath, mutters something to herself soundlessly, lips moving)
Brahms(shakes fist): WAAAGNEEERRRR!!!
--Basement; Wagner takes cue stick, smug smirk.
Wagner: Your Shot.
Mozart: hahahahah - remind me never to steal your personal letters to your tailor again!
Wagner(smirk falls): It was you, was it?
Mozart: NO NO NO NO-- I mean, geez, Richard, haven't you wreaked enough havoc for one week? Why don't you tell me about how you want to stage Tristan?
Wagner: Very well. Heaven knows full well that Richard Wagner would never consent to fraternize with mere mortals unless there were talk of serious musical Art involved..
Soon we see Mussorgsky standing at the bottom of the main stairs like an inspection crew, having sobered significantly in the last hour.
Muss: get going or youll be late!
Strozzi(trots down stairs): It's fashionable to be late, isn't it?
Muss: Not when reporters are waiting
Strozzi: ok, I'm going! You're really taking over for Hildegard, aren't you?
Muss: yeap (exit Strozzi; soon after, Liszt comes dashing down the stairs)
Liszt: oh God, I'm running late again!
Muss: Get a watch! (holds open door as Liszt runs out) And dont make eyes at the old ladies!! God I need another drink..
Strozzi and Liszt meet in the front yard where their cars are parked.
Liszt: Little more bearable today, isn't it?
Strozzi: It sure is! Hey, do you think we should we carpool?
Liszt: As much as I would like to save the gas, I don't think Melinda would appreciate seeing me show up with you at the same restaurant.
Strozzi: Just tell her I'm your housemate!
Liszt: Ah right: "don't mind the gorgeous girl in the passenger seat -- I just live with her!"
Strozzi(grins): Now, now-
Liszt: Moreover, do you want every lady in the Women's Club asking you how you got a ride with Franz Liszt? That would detract from Modest's goal, wouldn't it?
Strozzi: Ok! We'll take separate cars. In fact, why don't you just arrive fashionably late?
Liszt(bows, gestures to her car): After you...
Strozzi arrives at the country club and finds the table of women's club members. The reporter, tanned and fit, is wearing a beige linen suit and smiles as Strozzi approaches.
Reporter: Hi, I'm Vince Gumbel, reporting for the Free Press-
Strozzi: Hi (shakes his hand, he pulls out her seat for her. She is in the middle of a long table, surrounded by women's club members, except for her right side, where Vince sits. Mrs. Hickman, across the table, extends her hand for a shake)
MrsHickman: Hello, Barbara�
Strozzi: Hello Louis, nice to speak with you again!
MrsHickman: Do let me introduce you to everyone � we're all so excited that you could talk to us about the show! This is our book-exchange organizer Dorothy Cadden (a round white-haired lady shakes hands) And this is my niece Betty Volkers (pleasant-looking woman about Strozzi's age shakes her hand) And this...
(etc Soon Gumbel is asking insipid questions about the play):
Gumbel: So when did you get started on this project?
Strozzi: It was only a few weeks ago that the Women's Club had the kindness to commission a traditional style morality play from my housemate Hildegard. We've been working on it ever since.
(Gumbel makes a point to look up and smile winningly every now and then)
Gumbel: So you're the leading lady?
Strozzi: Well, I'm the only female performing in the play, actually..
Gumbel: Oh, is it a small cast?
Strozzi: ... actually there are... hm.. 10 men in the play?
(Some surprised murmuring on part of the women's club members)
Gumbel: Don't you think that's ironic for the Women's Club to commission?
Volkers(mischievously): I don't know - it depends on what percentage of the guys could be called "eye candy..."
Strozzi(laughs): a few! I think... (Gumbel doesn't know how to react; Strozzi adopts a more sober tone) Of course, on behalf of the composer, I should say that she doesn't want you coming to the play for the sake of eye candy; you'd miss the point.
Gumbel(smiles, confused): Ah, ok, and who was your inspiration?
Strozzi: I think her inspiration was the old morality plays of the middle ages, where you have character-types for all the virtues or sins, in this case. I guess our's is updated because there are way more sins than virtues! (everyone laughs)
Gumbel: great! And how does this music make you feel?
Strozzi: uh, it's very other-worldly, actually...
(sudden murmuring down one end of the table; Betty Volkers glances down)
Volkers: It's Franz Liszt! (all the women in the club turn; Strozzi rolls eyes; Gumbel notices her reaction, brightens)
Gumbel: That Franz Liszt seems to be very popular.
Strozzi: Well, you know, he plays piano.
Gumbel: Yeah, but some people can see through the glitz (smiles again, showing off absurdly bright and white teeth; Strozzi has to grin)
Gumbel: So (looks at notes) what do you hope you will make the audience experience?
Strozzi: ..... hm... I hope they experience the spiritual uplift of the music, because I think that's how Hildegard is trying to speak to us; through the music.
Gumbel: uh huh... (trying to understand)
Back at the house; Muss wakes up to the sound of the doorbell. He drags himself off the sofa and opens the front door. There is a tall, spindly black-haired fellow with a bunch of flowers.
Muss: Yes?
Man: You must be Modest! Nice to meet you- (holds out hand)
Muss(regards hand suspiciously): Uh hi. And you are?
Man: Friend of Pyotr's from the university - Yuri's the name. I heard -
Muss: OHHHH!! YOURE Yuri! hahahahah! (grabs his hand, shakes it in both of his) come inside!
(Muss pulls him into the TV room, where the store of alcohol is. He busily pours himself a drink as they talk.)
Yuri: I heard he was sick today?
Muss: hahahah, cant hold his liquor. calls himself Russian hes just hungover. but youre the pianist yes? youshould have heard himtoday babbling aboutstringquartets-
Yuri: Oh yes. (sits on sofa, leg crossed, arms across back as if he owns the place) He seems to think those will distract him from his most recent love Desiree.
Muss: teapot andthe kettle! you shoudltellhim to justget overitand write some songs
Yuri: Anything with a piano would be preferable to this string quartet business, but he really wants to write me a concerto. He just doesn't know it yet.
Muss: Drink?
Yuri: Oh sure. (Muss hands him glass of vodka) Toast to good vodka! (they toast)
(Cut to restaurant)
Gumbel(smiling broadly): Excuse me, Barbara, I must run to a photo-shoot, but it's been so nice to talk with you (shakes hands with Strozzi, dashes off)
Strozzi: I'm flattered- (looks in her hand as he leaves; there is a card with his phone number; she is amused)
MrsHickman: You know, that's what we need in our neighborhood, Barbara: a singing club for women!
Strozzi(wondering how this came up): singing club?
MrsCadden: That'd be lovely!
Volkers: You know, like an informal sort of chorus. I used to sing in high school, and I wish I could get back into it. Some of my friends agree. I could round up a half dozen, I'm sure!
MrsHickman: And you could lead it, Barbara!
Strozzi: ah, well - that could be fun...I'll have to investigate. See about place, times, and so on.
MrsCadden: We would pay you, of course.
Strozzi: Well, Betty, let me have your number and I'll let you know what I can come up with..
Meanwhile:
Yuri and Mussorgsky are having a grand time chatting about the essence of pianism when Yuri notices the wilting flowers in his hand and recalls why he came.
Yuri: Oh yes, I'm supposed to find Pyotr.
Muss: ohyeah hestakinga nap or something
Yuri(stands): Which way?
(It flashes through Mussorgsky's mind the untold disasters that could arise from sending Yuri to the upstairs alone and unarmed: Hildegard and her hair shirt, Richard and any impromptu lectures on interior design, Wolfgang and his compulsive pranks, or Robert... being Robert...)
Muss: Uhh Illshowyou..
(Upstairs, Mussorgsky is pleased to find that all is quiet. He knocks on the bedroom door where Tchaik is napping. No answer, he peeks in.)
Muss: awyourenot evenasleep
Tchaik(from bed, hand on forehead): i didn't want to yell.
Muss: yeah well youvegot company
Tchaik: What?! well - tell them i'll be down -- (looks around in confusion)
Muss: what -yougota migraine orsomething? Shall I bring you some tea??
Tchaik: hahahah - no, no, that's quite unnecessary.
(Enter Yuri, who joins the conversation nonchalantly.)
Yuri: Yeah, tea after vodka is kind of a letdown.
Tchaik: WHAT THE--- WHO LET YOU IN?!!
Yuri: Oh, look. The second he sees me, the hangover's gone. I should have come earlier.
Muss: illletyou be (exit)
Tchaik: Wait! Modest-
(But Muss leaves and closes the door. Yuri goes to the bed, grabs Tchaik, kisses him, then stands back a few feet, arms folded, lounging - as if this is all a normal manner of greeting. Tchaik is quiet)
Yuri: A trustworthy source reports that you were seen drinking like a fish at XES last night. And that you disappeared with no less a rogue than Igor Fedoseev. What am I supposed to gather from this?
Tchaik: uh... What is this?! You stalk me down at my house - you call me all the time - now you have a spy network?!
Yuri(admiring the back of his hand): I know. It's pathetic.
Tchaik: Damn right -- No! I mean - it's not pathetic, it's stalker-ly! (scowls at himself) God, I'm so hungover I can't even talk right.
Yuri: You're not hungover. Not from alcohol, at least. Maybe self-pity.
Tchaik: Are you trying to make me feel better?!
Yuri: Oh yes, I brought you flowers. (hands him the now-wilted flowers)
Tchaik: WHAT!
Yuri: I figured it had to be bad if you went clubbing. I don't know why you didn't just call me.
Tchaik: I don't know how you haven't figured out to leave me alone!
Yuri: Why don't I leave you alone? (smirks, paces) It's true - you always say "go away...." You try to avoid me. You hang up on me - you even throw your folders at me! But you have never once managed to say that you are not interested. Can't even lie about it! And you tell me to go - when it's OBVIOUS to everyone but you that you DONT want me to go away?! What are you thinking leading me on like this?! (shakes head to self, sharp intake of breath) Look at me, getting annoyed... (tone back to its lazy standard) I suppose it's enough that I already have the patience of a saint. (looks at wristwatch) All right. Fine. I'll cook. I expect you at 8 o'clock. (turns, stalks out)
(Tchaik, who has been surprised all the while at this outburst, finally falls back on pillow, exhausted, hands to head.)
Later: The front doorbell rings. Muss grumbles, but gets up to answer it. He is surprised to see his friend the count Arseny Golenischev-Kutusov. They have their conversation in Russian..
Muss: hey Arseny what brings you here?
Arseny: Hi Modest, I was on this side of town and thought I'd stop by - how's it going?
Muss: good to see you, come have a drink! (gestures towards foyer)
Later after dinner Strozzi finds Zacara in the den playing a sudoku. She sits next to him on the couch, leans in.
Strozzi: I see you're working hard.
Zacara: Yeah, but don't tell the others... It's almost as bad as crossword puzzles.
Strozzi: So.... Antonio...we need to help Ludwig.
Zacara: It's always suspicious when housemates try to "help" each other.
Strozzi: So I heard - weren't you "helping" Richard and Franz by inviting over your "string quartet" to "talk to" Johannes?
Zacara: Ok, ok, I see I'm never going to live that one down! What is it that you need help with, my dear?
Strozzi: Ludwig, as you've probably noticed, is ... a bit messy. He could use a good makeover. Of course, he would never consent to this, unless it were under...
Zacara: Pain of death?
Strozzi: We were thinking more along the lines of illegal substances..
Zacara: hah! You could always ask Hildegard..
Strozzi: I think you know how that would go.
Zacara(leans closer): Well, my dear... what's in it for me?
Strozzi: Oh, the amusement of seeing it. Come to the mall with us!
Zacara: mmm.. I suppose that could be an interesting Sunday diversion. I'll see tomorrow..
Four hours later, Mussorgsky claps his hands and begins recruiting housemates for a rehearsal of the morality play. In the basement they all gather, except for Hildegard, Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Wagner, who are either out of the house, or meditating.
Muss is on the sofa between his Russian friends Arseny Golenischev-Kutusov, and the painter Viktor Hartmann who has since shown up. Muss is wearing one of Wagner's paisley pink and blue berets. They all have martini glasses - filled with nothing but vodka. The center of attention is a clipboard in Muss's hand; he stares at it.
Muss: ok............... im directing in placeof Hildegard. now then... Charles we dont need you now. your kidsarent here
Ives: What?!
Muss: youcan go do something productive. (Ives has nothing to say to this)
Mozart: HAHHAHA!! (claps) Charles, you've been voted off the island!
Zacara: Thank you. I like this new directing already.
Ives: Well! I'll just go now! (storms off)
Hartmann: So what parts are they playing?
Muss: Barbara is Everywoman.
Arseny: That's not very believeable (smiles at her, she smiles back)
Muss(shrugs): it was heror Hildegard... And Franzis gluttony
Hartmann: hahah! the tallest skinniest guy!
Liszt(in protest): Like those eating contest winners!
Muss: movingright along.. Wolfgangs the venial sins, Antonios greed, Ludwigs anger, and Roberts thedevil.
Hartmann: Ok...
Muss(throws down clipboard): ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL right people youre throwin outyour lines. (general confusion on part of housemates)
Liszt: what about Hildegards intentions?
Muss: im the director damn it
Strozzi: But how are we supposed to practice the play?
Musss(waves hand, nearly knocking the martini glass out of Hartmann's hand): thisis artistic experimentation - you haveto learn by doing it! a timehonored theatrical tool! (takes swig of vodka) Now you hvea to find the motivaions for your cahracters
Schumann: But they're mere archetypes.
Muss: explorethem for development! now MINGLE!!
(Mozart starts playing pool. Schumann sits on the bottom step and observes. Liszt shrugs and starts talking to Zacara.)
Liszt: gee... I sure am hungry!
Zacara; Ill feed you if you pay me.
Beethoven: ROOOAAARR!
(Schumann steals up beside him, whispers in his ear.)
Schumann: Were you at Roswell, New Mexico?
Beethoven: uh NO, go away! I hate stupid questions!
Schumann: Methoughts you were a believer..the possum conspiracy..
Beethoven: I hate possums!! (aside) God, I can just pretend to be Johannes for this..
Schumann: Ahh, but you must beware the possums... I can help.
Beethoven: I think you do this Devil thing way too well...
Muss: STAYIN CHARACTER PEOPLE!!
Liszt: This is going to be a long rehearsal...
(AND SO ON...)
An hour later, the Russians have consumed more "martinis;" Mozart, in character, has opened the wet bar and encouraged everyone to drink. Consequently, the "rehearsal" has devolved from character exploration into everyone improvising bawdy madrigals while the Russians discuss possible set designs in French. [translated for your benefit]
Hartmann: I like the idea of a film noir-type world war II spy movie...
Arseny: eh, that's so overdone these days.
Hartmann: perhaps I am just in a black and white and gray mood..(they laugh)
Arseny: What about a play on the recent Jane Austen popularity? We could cross dress them as obnoxious society-ladies..
Muss: hahahahah! how ironic
Arseny(leans conspiratorially to Muss): dont worry, the old women won't get the subtext!
Muss: they never do!! (they laugh) how about an after school special? (more laughter)
Hartmann: No, I dont want to do that. Something more exotic -- like, a trading base in another solar system!!
Arseny: Traders on Wall Street!
Muss: hahaha masters of the universe! (he and Arseny toast; Liszt looks over at the clang)
Hartmann: Oh but the costuming would be too difficult - good business suits and alien outfits, equally expensive. No, no.. something else (they fall into ponderous silence)
Mozart: WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP MINE EYESSS (the others harmonize, but the lyric goes around the circle to Liszt)
Liszt(passable tenor): Lady hear my sighs!
Zacara: kiss me or I dies!! (Strozzi sings a pathetic descending glissando; they all break up laughing)
Mozart: no haha - you got it wrong its "kiss me AND i dies!"
Hartmann: how about a post-apocalyptic zombie town? thats all about ragged clothing and makeup
Arseny(same time): A buddhist temple? ---- or a post-apocalyptic buddhist temple!
Muss: only you arseny
Hartmann: NO I got it! VH1 music video from the 1980s!
Arseny: hahahah!
Liszt(in French to them): What are you talking about?!
Muss(in French): Viktor has graciously volunteered to design our set. we are discussing what the best scenario is
Liszt(appalled, in English): you want to do the set in the style of an 80s music video?!
Strozzi: What?! GREAT!!! I still have purple leg warmers!
Arseny(in English): See? Our leading lady loves it!
Muss: the goatsll fit in nicely....
Hartmann: goats? How ironic.
Arseny: You should add a little synth intro - ala depeche mode.. you know- (starts singing) I just cant get enough, I just cant get enough
Muss: i juuuusssttt cannnnnttttt geeet enough .....
Hartmann: (beat boxing )
(The others stop, look over in time to see Muss and Arseny, an arm around each other's shoulder, swaying, singing and holding up their martini glasses like microphones.)
Liszt: uh...
Mozart: DEPECHE MODE! AWESOME!
Beethoven: Ok, I've wasted enough time tonight. (stalks off)
Zacara: ALLL right, I think when our gracious director is drunk enough to be singing Depeche Mode, it's time to call it a night!
Bach: Some of us have work tomorrow!
Zacara: oh jesus...Wolfy, where's your camera??
3AM: Beethoven has dozed off in the dogloo, head bent at an unnatural angle. He does not hear the scuttling sound of an animal crawling through the dogloo entrance. It approaches him cautiously, but finding him to be no threat, starts to gnaw at his notebook. This is bad food. It sniffs at Beethoven's hand, is curious, sniffs his arm-
Beethoven(springs to life): AOGAHHHH!!!
Animal: EEEEE!
Beethoven: WHAT-- (throws dogloo off, jumps back to face his foe -- but the little visitor runs away as fast as its legs will take it. Beethoven takes a deep breath) wh.... was that a possum??? Robert....