All is not well in morality land...
Cut to Hildegard, pacing in the foyer, brow knit in consternation.
Hildegard: how...... (pauses, looks in mirror on wall, shakes head, goes back to pacing)... hmm... "it's part of.... the ambience.."
(Enter Mussorgsky from TV room, empty bottle in hand)
Muss: hihilegard
(She looks at him, shakes her head again)
Hildegard(accusingly): Do you know what time it is?
Muss: uh.. time for recycling (holds up bottle)
Hildegard: Agh, it's 11 am! You're totally wasted again!
Muss(sniffs indignantly): thisis not wasted
Hildegard: You - you're slurring your words again
Mussorgsky (straightens up, clears his throat and adopts an accent ala Henry Higgins): That Is A Function Of Sloth, Not Inebriation, my dear Hildegard...!
Hildegard: (astounded)
Muss(back to normal): youhavenseen wastedyet
Hildegard: Modest, how should I break the news to the guys that they have to wear goat costumes for the play?
Muss: "you guys heres your costumes"
Hildegard: ... yes?
Muss: "theyre free"
Hildegard: I don't think that works after the college years..
Muss(as he lumbers by): heyill wear one
Hildegard: You're so wasted!
Muss: imnot wasted damnit i dontwannaknow how many brahmsesyoud havetosleepwith beforeyou evenhad aninklingof what WASTED is!
Hildegard(red-faced): !!!
(Muss disappears into kitchen, throws out bottle in recycling bin with clank; Hildegard takes the opportunity to sneak off)
After dinner, Wagner is lounging on the sofa in the den, arms behind head, staring contemplatively at the ceiling. Enter Liszt.
Liszt: Ah, here you are, Richard. I've been looking for you .
Wagner: Indeed? It had seemed to me that since the advent of this "Marie" business you had disavowed the knowledge of my existence entirely.
Liszt(sits on sofa arm): What are you talking about? I spend more time in this household than I should. Marie and I never have enough time together.. (sighs) It's just that you're never around when I am!
Wagner: This "Marie" has entirely too much to say about your present activities. Before one is fully aware she shall have whisked you off to Italy and that will be the end of you. The world has heard its last from Franz Liszt!
Liszt(smirks): Italy's not a bad idea... but really, Richard, it's more like since you met this patron you have no use for the rest of us anymore.
Wagner: Oh Quatsch, I hope you mean not to draw any parallels, for we speak of two rather different scenarios.
Liszt: Do we? You always seem to be running off on dates with this fellow!
Wagner(raised eyebrow): The "dates" are not of a "Lisztian" nature.
Liszt(laughs): I'm asking if they're of a "Tchaikovskian" nature!
Wagner(smirks): I don't know how you can. Certainly, I will allow that the said patron's attentions to my Art may at times transgress mere objective contemplation and confuse themselves with more of a Romantic - big "R" - (frowns) and, granted, perhaps sometimes small "r" - interest in my Person...(Liszt laughs)... But who can blame the artistic soul for not separating the Created from the Creator? However, My interests in said patron are more of a.... (pauses, searching for right word)....
Liszt(grins): "Monetary kind?"
Wagner(sighs): I hesitate to use such a course and callous word as "rich," and yet he is that - however, he has the artistic sensitivity to truly appreciate my artistic conception of a unified artwork - of the cycle of---
Liszt: You are TERRIBLE! You are playing this poor kid for his money - what, how old did you say he was? 19 or something? Poor impressionable youth!
Wagner(offended): OUTRAGE! Slander! To accuse me of mistreating the sincerest supporter of my artistic enterprise!
Liszt(sighs, starts over): I'm a little confused as to how this relationship works, Richard...
Wagner(still offended): Well, I don't deny that it is a complicated situation of which you can hardly conceive. (sniffs in distaste) Young Ludwig certainly loves me with the sincerity and glow of a first love; more important he is completely in thinking with my artistic plans - how many times must I repeat myself - don't you realize what this means, Franz? I am to have complete artistic freedom! He offers me everything necessary for me to perform my works! I shall be relieved of all problems - let the credit card companies demand what they will! Now can that be anything but a dream? Can I have conceived -scheming and mistreating - of such a fate? Nay, Divine Providence has arranged that I find such an artistically sympathetic creature - and it has arranged that he have the ability to bring forth the artistic product of my Genius!! (hand in triumphant fist)
Liszt(quietly): I understand, Richard, but don't forget... relationships don't usually work so well when both people are in love with the same person...
Wagner: This is not about persons, this is about the Artwork of the Future! And speaking of which, the master singers of Nuernberg CALL to me this very moment! (stalks off; Liszt frowns)
Wagner strides into the piano room, where Brahms, Schumann, and Zacara are playing three-handed hearts. Wagner ignores them, and heads straight for the piano bench, where he sits and begins talking to Papi.
Wagner: Papi, my dear comrade, good day to you.
Papi: G'DAY!
(Brahms rolls eyes at Zacara, who grins)
Wagner: Today I unveil for you the latest dramatic masterwork that I am creating: Die Meistersinger von Nuernburg!
Brahms: Does that mean the only orchestration is going to be a lute?
Zacara(singing in high falsetto): My lady love, why dost thou ignoooooorreee meeee? (plays air lute)
Wagner(ignores them): Can you say "Meistersinger"?
(Schumann facing away from Wagner, blinks in distaste, dumps queen of spades on Zacara)
Zacara: oh Jesus, Robert! Hannes is low man!
Papi: JESUS!
Wagner(sighs): Gentlemen playing cards on the sofa, would you kindly refrain from using any Anglo-Saxon expletives, using the Lord's name in vain, and discussing any forthcoming sexual identity crises in front of Papi?
Schumann(ignores W, to Z): His time shall come.
Brahms(winces): It's so ominous when you put it that way, Robert.
(Wagner sighs again, begins playing piano - a major-key, triadic and very pompous opening. Brahms, Schumann, and Zacara all pause and grimace at one another as the piece continues in rambling overblown fashion. Papi begins whistling along, some inner voice, but in tune.)
Wagner(has to yell over himself): Excellent, Papi!
(This goes on for another 10 minutes - at the next cadence, Zacara speaks up.)
Zacara: Hey, Richard, that doesn't sound like your Tristan! What's the deal?
Wagner: Well, of course it doesn't. The dramatic situation is very unlike that of Tristan. This is a comedy.
Brahms(mutters): and here I thought the imperial army was coming...
Schumann(honest innocence): Oh, I see! You're writing tonal counterpoint - is that the joke?
Z&B: AAHAHAHHAHAHAH!!!
Wagner: ..... Mr. Schumann, you will also refrain from discussing that which you do not understand!
Schumann(eyes narrow): Heedless folly, Mr. Wagner, for I have studied more tonal counterpoint than you.
Wagner: Precisely! This is counterpoint with SOUL! None of your dry wooden crossword puzzle exercises! Who "studies" to create works of art!
Zacara: Isn't "sudoku" more appropriate really? It's much more abstract than crossword puzzles.
Papi: GESAMMTKUNSTWERK!
Brahms: oh god, somebody shoot that damned thing already ...
Zacara: Hey, Papi wanna cracker?
Papi: POLLY WANNA CRACKER!
Wagner(fuming): THE THREE OF YOU need to vacate the vicinity or else stop these vexatious interruptions forthwith! Antonio, you must not encourage Papi in these vulgarities of spirit; Mr. Schumann, I will not have you criticizing my Art as it is already painfully clear that we stand to each other as antipodes on every artistic sentiment; and you, Mr. Brahms, from you I will not suffer to hear even the slightest intimation of violence against Papi! Why that creature has more artistic understanding in every individual feather than--
Brahms: --I'LL GRANT (Wagner pauses at the outburst) I'll grant that your pink parrot has outdone us all -- including you, Richard. It is absolutely the most obnoxious creature to set foot, or feather, within this house.
Zacara(snickers): hey you know - the red and yellow crown - couldn't you get a beret like that, Richard?
Wagner: GEHRAUS!!!
Papi: GEHRAUS!
Brahms(stands, walks out calmly): .... just what I've been missing in my life. A mini Wagner, in the form of a pink parrot, to yell in German at me!
(Schumann shrugs at Zacara, gathers cards, shuffles and begins dealing a new round)
Papi: GOODRIDDANCE!
(Wagner sighs, goes back to his playing; Papi whistles along.)
In the hall Brahms almost runs into Hildegard, who has a cup of soup in her hands - they pause awkwardly.)
Brahms: ... --That damned bird. Aren't you offended that he just arbitrarily brings in an obnoxious parrot without consulting anyone?? it's a nuisance!
(Hildegard listens - Wagner has begun singing one of the voice parts, and Papi continues to whistle along - occassionally breaking to squawk, "GESAMMTKUNSTWERK!!" Mussorgsky calls from across the hallway, "SHUTUP!")
Hildegard: Ok, it is obnoxious. Perhaps we should call a house meeting to vote on it?
Brahms: I think we should just --- let it go one day. I don't see how a self-avowed animal rights activist can condone keeping such an exquisite bird locked up in a little cage all day long.
Hildegard: But you know those parrots are all hand-raised and hand-fed. It wouldn't be able to survive on its own.
Brahms: Can't we get the animal cops in here ? I mean, this is animal torture, right? making it sing all that crap?
Hildegard(trying not to look amused): I don't think we could make that case...
Brahms(stalks up stairs): Whatever, I'm putting it on Ebay. Those things are expensive..?
Hildegard: .... $3000 and up!
Brahms: GOOD.
Hildegard: I really shouldn't let him do that..
Papi: O EVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!
Hildegard(grimaces): However...(sighs) maybe I should have ordered parrot costumes instead..
It's not long before Mozart finds his laptop has been hijacked by Brahms. He comes running into his bedroom, hands in air--
Mozart: HEY HEY! Get your own porn collection!
Brahms(snickers): No time for that. I'm putting that goddamned cockatoo up for sale.
Mozart(sits next to him): I dont believe you ---(sees screen) What!? EBAY! You can't sell live things on Ebay!
Brahms: Why not?
Mozart: It's against their rules. Trust me on this - I tried to sell my sister a couple years ago. They wouldn't let me.
Brahms: You tried to sell your sister? ... maybe I could sell my brother... eh, no one would take him.
Mozart: You have a brother?
Brahms(waves it off): We have to get rid of that stupid bird. If not Ebay, another way.
Mozart: Craig's List?
Brahms: OH! No - forget the internet. I'll just call Eduard Hanslick, he works at the paper - he can tell us what to do. (pulls out cell phone; Mozart takes back his laptop)
Mozart: You have Eduard Hanslick on speed dial? You're a total loser; I'm disowning you.
Brahms: shut up. He's responsible for my year's supply of ground coffee -- Hello? This is Johannes Brahms-- (loud response from phone) ah, yes, I'm fine, thanks, you? .....
Mozart: loser
Brahms: No, we haven't decided on a time yet for that, but I'll let you know as soon as possible. Actually I was calling because I thought you might be able to give me some advice... .. yeah, so let's say I have a pet cockatoo that I want to sell....
Mozart(grins): loser, but with occasional shining moments ...(he leans back and stretches while Brahms continues talking to Hanslick) man.... what should I do today? it's only 3pm. The night is young.. I need a girlfriend, thats what. Why don't I? I'm young, a genius, funny, good looking.. (Notices that Brahms is off the phone) Hannes, why don't I have a girlfriend?
Brahms: Uh, because you're a moron?
Mozart: You ass! (laughs) Why don't you just hook me up with one of those hot girls in your choir, huh?
Brahms: It's not Johannes's Dating Service, it's a Polite Society of Singing Ladies who happen to have me for a conductor.
Mozart: whatever, youre such a ho bag, you want them all for yourself!
Brahms: No...
Mozart: Uh huh, trying to be the Franz Liszt of the amateur choir circuit now, right?
Brahms: NO- (tries to leave, but Mozart follows him into the hallway)
Mozart: Oh yeah, sure, deny it. I know how you function, Johannes Brahms. First you're like, "Oh, I'm stoic - I dont like those womenfolk, nope, no sir-ee" and then it's all, "Oh, oops I accidentally slept with one of them - ! O woe is me! better go write a fugue!"
Brahms(with vigor): SONofa- I am NOT sleeping with any of them!
Mozart: Yeah, that might last for about a week. Or I might stop bothering you about it... IF YOU HOOK ME UP!
Brahms: I don't know how you think I'm going to do that. I can't even hook myself up--
Mozart: Whatever, just host a tea party!
Brahms: MOTHERF$@#$%-- (swings at Mozart, who ducks out of the way)
Mozart: HAHAHAH!! (takes off down the hall)
Brahms(calls after him): And don't be insulting my girls! - they are all virtuous, upstanding citizens and they should NOT have anything to do with you!
Mozart(has stopped at top of staircase): Hey, I'm very up-standing too, I think they would appreciate that!
Brahms(shakes head): son of a bitch..
Mozart: mwahahah! (merrily skips down the stairs and to the basement)
Later Robert Schumann is in the kitchen, at the table , playing with playdough. He is currently molding it into a swan-shape. He has put some playdough on his left finger and now lifts it, as if exercising. He sits. Enter Tchaikovsky.
Tchaik: Hey Robert
Schumann: Yahoy
Tchaik: something like that... ( pauses in the middle of the room, looks around, confused) Why did I come in here?
Schumann(as if the oracle): Bread Pudding...
Tchaikovsky: ooohhh, that's a good idea. (opens fridge) do we have any?
Schumann(moves the playdough swan): Swan Lake.
Tchaikovsky: huh?
Schumann: flooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaatttttts (moves swan through air; Tchaik rolls his eyes)
Tchaik: have you ever considered getting therapy, Robert?
Schumann: Hark!! (stands abruptly)
Tchaik: What??
Schumann: SHE ARRIVES! (runs out, leaving playdough on table; two seconds later the doorbell rings)
Tchaik: Hm. Swans.. DAMN, why do we have no bread pudding!? (whips out cell phone, flips it open with one hand... holds it up to ear, waiting impatiently) .....
(Split Screen Sitcom!!
Cut to Yuri's Apartment, where he is practicing piano - pauses, answers phone.)
Yuri(lazily): mm..?
Tchaik: Yuri. I knew I put you on speed dial for a reason. We need bread pudding!
Yuri:... let's go.
Tchaik: Where?
Yuri: That place on 4th. Stanley's. See you in ten.
Tchaik: Check.
(End split screen sitcom; Tchaik puts his phone away satisfactorily. As soon as he has found his wallet, he heads for the front door. He is surprised to find Robert and Clara in the middle of the foyer leaning aginst the wall in a heated makeout session.)
Tchaik: WOO! get a room!! (claps on the way out; Mussorgsky comes toddling out of the TV room, pauses, waits for the two to acknowledge his presence. no sign)
Mussorgsky: hey hey........... you can have the TV room ifyouwant... sofascomfy.... (wanders down hallway, heads into kitchen. The lovers pause, go into TV room.)
Enter work crowd:
Ives: I'm the BEST insurance salesman this world's known!
(follow Bach, rolling eyes)
Bach: Do you sell God's insurance, Charles?
Ives: what are you tlking about? Of course my insurance is good!
Zacara: I love how that wasn't remotely related to your question...
Bach: (shakes head)
(Enter Hildegard)
Hildegard: Hey guys, we're having a rehearsal tonight at 9. The costumes came in yesterday!
Bach: Great! What are they like?
Hildegard: Uh - you'll find out at 9.. (disappears into den)
Zacara: That's a good sign, you think?
Bach: Whatever (they go into the kitchen, where they are surprised to find Mussorgsky sitting at the table playing with playdough.)
Zacara: Why are you here?
Ives: Are you cooking for us?
Muss: insurancesalesman lookingfor handouts. thatsironic
Ives(annoyed): Why ARE you here?
Muss: ....the TV rooms occupied
(Ives looks to Bach, who shrugs)
Ives: Well you can help set the table!
Cut to foyer, Brahms is heading for piano room - pauses when he glances into TV room and notices Robert and Clara on the sofa.
Brahms: uh -
Schumann: HARK!
Clara: I'm right here, Robert.
Schumann(whispers): Tis the young eagle! (hops up, joins Brahms in foyer) We were waiting for you.
Brahms(frowning): uh...don't wait for me...
Schumann: nonsense! To the Red Hedgehog! Onward!! (Clara joins them - enter HIldegard)
Hildegard: hey guys, don't go anywhere, you're getting your costumes right after dinner.
Schumann: (looks at other two, shrugs)
Strozzi is in the pool room reading Time magazine on the sofa. Enter Hildegard.
Hildegard: Hi Barbara, surprise to find you down here without Wolfgang.
Strozzi(smirks): It's a nice change, I'll admit. What are you up to?
Hildegard(sits): Today I'm letting them know about their costumes. But I'm still not sure how to .... introduce the idea to them.
Strozzi: oh that's easy, just tell them its part of the music video.
Hildegard: goats?
Strozzi: Yeah. Oh - by the way, look at this advertisement (holds up magazine; its two women in a Dior ad, dressed in squarish pant suits and too much eye makeup)
Hildegard: ugh
Strozzi: No, no! It proves your artistic instinct is right! the 80s are BACK!
Hildegard: It wasn't my idea anyway. It was Modest's - and his drunken friends'! (shakes head) He was drunk today when I ran into him... at 11am!! (shakes head again, mutter, more to self than Strozzi) this is insupportable... he just sleeps on the sofa all day long and drinks! (Strozzi just watches in wry amusement as Hildegard launches into a rant, pacing around the room) what laziness! he can't even finish his opera - which is what he's supposed to be good at! such talent squandered! no self control whatsoever- no direction, no plan -- just alcoholism and sloth and... asdlfjasd!! it's just unacceptable. How am I supposed to deal with this? I can't deal with this!
Strozzi: So...... does this mean you're declaring defeat?
Hildegard(shaking head to self): I suppose I must. You cannot reform from without...
Strozzi: Well, I mean, that's the point. I don't think he cares. He ought to, I suppose - if not for your sake then for his own. But you can't be expecting a Mr. Darcyesque reform anyway, you're not so naive, right, Hildegard? Men don't do that. They're incapable of reform for the sake of a lady-love. It's a natural law -- to hope for otherwise is to have read too much Jane Austen.
Hildegard: Of course not! This is for his OWN benefit!
Strozzi: mmm hm.. ... Funny, you sound like Richard a little bit.
Hildegard(exasperated): I need to just go join a convent! (storms out)
Strozzi: "Get thee to a nunnery"??
Hildegard is especially grumpy for the morality play rehearsal. She rounds up the guys in the basement and dumps the pile of costumes on the floor.
Hildegard: Here's your costumes. Come pick them up. I assume you can figure out which size is yours.
Zacara: Mine's the midget one!
Bach: You're not a midget. You're just short. Mr. Schubert is about your height and he doesn't go around calling himself a midget.
Brahms: Actually his friends do call him "little mushroom."
Bach: ..... yeah, I like midget better.
Liszt(has been inspecting costumes, is elegantly displeased): Hildegard... are these supposed to be goats?
Hildegard(stony-faced): Yes.
Wagner: Why, Madam, do you require us, the Deadly, most Terrible of sins, to be costumed as diminutive even-toed ungulates?
Hildegard: I'm the artistic director. I'm making a historical reference to the animal most closely associated with evil and most prevalent in satanism as represented by Baphomet. DEAL WITH IT.
Wagner: Leaden symbolism the likes of Melville! I disagree! (the others cringe; they can tell Hildegard is not in a mood to argue)
Mussorgsky(from sofa): Aaaaanybody who wantsto writean opera abouta bunch of gods chasinga ring around cannot complain about leaden symbolism.
Schumann: Touche.
Muss; besides theyre free
Wagner: How is Pride to be taken seriously with a goat costume?
Brahms: Let's move on, please! Pride is being played by you, so no one's going to take it seriously regardless of costume.
Bach: On the contrary, Johannes. I can think of no better representative of pride! (Wagner looks at ceiling)
Brahms: Yeah, maybe you're right. The goat costume will be an improvement on the pink silks.
Ives: WELL SAID!
Beet: Hah!
Wagner(turns): Mr. Brahms--
Hildegard: Don't you male morons even start with your arguments. No one wants to hear it. Take your costumes, go try them on and let me know how they are!
(...five minutes later: some guys have changed, some have left the room to change; there's a quorum currently, costumed and rather consternated.)
Ives: I don't like this costume, but I suppose the kids will. When are we rehearsing with them?
Hildegard: I have to call Mrs. Hickman about that .
Muss: icantalkto her illsee her tomorrowanyway
Liszt: uh, Hildegard... this costume is a bit.. large. (it's hanging off him, even at the wrists (hoofs) making him look even skinnier than normal. Hildegard frowns)
Hildegard: You're not very believable as gluttony...
Muss: hahahahah you looklikea skinny guyinanoversized goat costume!
Hildegard(turns on him): Actually, Modest, why don't YOU try it on? It might be a little long, but you could fill it out better! (the guys guffaw and snicker; she continues) And you'd make a fine sin of gluttony. You could also be sloth! and pride! AND alcoholism!! although that isn't an official deadly sin yet, but --
Tchaikosky: What about lust?
Muss&Hildegard: NO !
Bach: Hey, that's MY sin.
Liszt: You're very protective of it.
Bach: It's the best deadly sin.
Hildegard(rubs temples): Ok, everyone else all right? No costume discrepancies? (looks around) how long does it take to change, where are they? I consider this meeting done. If they have problems send them to me! (exit; they remain in silence, Muss is the only one who seems uncowed)
Tchaik: ...I didn't see that coming.
Muss: ehh
Beethoven(to Muss): You can have the dogloo tonight if you want.
Muss: ithink the appropriate response to thatis "smartass"
(The others laugh, Muss smirks)
Muss: yea imgettinga drink... (exit)