Henrietta IV
A revision of Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part One

The Characters.

Harry Percy/Hotspur = Harriet/Hot Stuff, a femme lesbian
Lady Percy = Kris, a sexy butch, Hot Stuff's lover
Mortimer = Morty, Earl of Fresh Kills Landfill
Owen Glendower = Owen Ben-Dover, Earl of Harlem
Lady Mortimer = Morty's wife, Ben-Dover's daughter
Thomas Percy, Earl of Worcester = Worcestershire, Earl of Sauce
Servant = Matthew, a secretary

Act II.

[Scene 3. New York City. Hot Stuff's office. A spacious and luxurious room on a high floor with a great view from a large window.]

Enter Hot Stuff, solus, in a sexy red business suit, reading a letter, visibly incensed.

Hot Stuff: "Please be assured I would have been delighted to join you in this venture, considering the respect I have for your position." Delighted, he says? Then where the hell is he? The respect he has for my position? It's obvious he respects his own ass more than he cares for my position. (Reads on) "The arrangements you have made are dangerous" - Pffft, duh! Shit, it's risky to catch the flu, to go to sleep, to breathe, to drink. Trust me on this, Mr. Moron, no pain no gain. "You are definitely taking serious chances with this, and your people are unreliable. Even the time you have specified is not ideal, and further, this entire plan is simply not finely tuned enough to deal with the stability of your opposition." Are you fucking with me? You whining dog, you're lying to me. What kind of idiocy is this, anyway? I swear to God, everything's going to go fine. Don't I have letters from all of my... err, associates, promising they'll drag their butts there on time? Some of them are prepared already! Fuck, I know what he's going to do next; he'll scurry off to the CEO and expose everything we've planned. Well, let him go ahead and spill his guts, I'll get started tonight.

Enter her lover, Kris, in khakis and bomber jacket.

What are you doing now, Kris? I've got to leave in a couple of hours.

Kris. Hey Hot Stuff, what are you doing alone? Why haven't we been together lately? Tell me sweetie, why aren't you eating, sleeping... or playing? Why are you so paranoid? Why do you look sick? Why are you pushing me away? I'm starting to worry. Especially when you have nightmares or talk about merges and scream "buy 'em all out" and so forth. You talk about buying, selling, funds and profits. You sweat. Your muscles are tense, like you're about to make some big decisions. What is this all about? If you loved me you would tell me.

Hot Stuff. Hey you, over there!

Enter a Secretary, Matthew.

Has Will gone with the package yet?

Matthew. Yes Ma'am. He left an hour ago.

Hot Stuff. Has the chauffeur brought the cars yet?

Matthew. Yes Ma'am. She just brought the red one.

Hot Stuff (striking a lofty pose). The Porsche will work. Tell her to bring it out front.

Matthew leaves.

Kris. Babe, listen to me.

Hot Stuff (absently). What was it you wanted?

Kris. What's making you leave me?

Hot Stuff. My car, my love, my car!

Kris. Dammit, Harriet, you're a jerk! I'll find out what's going on. I think my brother, Morty, is trying to become CEO, and you're going to help him. But if you drive off now...

Hot Stuff (teasingly). What, you want me to take the subway?

Kris. Come on you joker, give me a direct answer. If you don't I'll pound you.

Hot Stuff (amused). Go away, you pest. I don't give a shit. This isn't a time for playing games. This is war. Hang it, where's my car? (Pause) What did you want, Kris?

Kris (angry). You don't love me, do you? You don't. I'll hate myself if you don't love me! Don't you love me? Please tell me if you're joking...

Hot Stuff. Come on, walk me to the car. When I leave, I'll swear I'll love you forever. I've got to do what I've got to do and I can't have you questioning me. I know you're sharp chick, but no smarter than my lover. You're loyal, but you're still a woman and no woman can keep a secret. You can't spill milk you don't have. I trust you only so far.

Kris (sarcastically). Really, you trust me that much?

Hot Stuff. And no farther. But I've got to go now. You can join me tomorrow if you like. Will that satisfy you?

Kris. If it has to.

They leave together.

Act III.

[Scene 1. Owen Ben-Dover's home office. It is plush, and decorated with good and expensive taste. A conversation has obviously already begun.]

Morty and Hot Stuff are talking after Ben-Dover has gone to get Kris and Morty's wife.

Morty. Hey, don't you have any shame, Hot Stuff, talking so disrespectfully to my Tatta?

Hot Stuff (moodily). Can't figure out how to treat him. Sometimes he drives me crazy with his crackpot stories about "signs and omens" he claims are in the symbols on the rotting crest on my family's old house in Connecticut. I nod my head to please him, but god, I think the man's utterly loony. Get this - he kept me here for nine fucking hours last night, counting up the names of the devils he claims are his own personal gofers.

Morty. Seriously, he's a great guy. Quite well read, a master of dark and secret arts, and the bravest man you'll ever see. Plus, he's as rich and as generous as a gold mine. Listen, he thinks really highly of your character, buddy, and even resists his own mannerisms in an effort to please you. Seriously, he does. There's no person who could tempt his anger as much as you do and still get off scot-free. Don't push it.

Worcestershire. Really, old girl, you are a wee tad hot-tempered. I say, since you've arrived here, you have done quite a deal to try the old chap's patience. You really could do with learning to behave rather more gently. Your temper can show courage and fierce blood (which it shows off damned well in you!) but I say, often it comes off as a shade arrogant and hardheaded. And a businessperson who behaves in that way really does look rather awful to her employees, old girl.

Hot Stuff (carelessly). Uhh... yeah, sure. Whatever. Hope your fine manners bring you good luck. Here come our girls, let's go.

Enter Ben-Dover with Kris and Morty's wife.

Morty. My most terrible problem is that my wife speaks only Ebonics, and I speak only English.

Ben-Dover. My baby girl is crying, she doesn't want you to leave. She wants to go to the meeting with you. She's longing to be a career person too, so she can join you.

Morty. Tell her she can come with Kris and meet us afterward, maybe for dinner.

[Ben-Dover speaks to her in Ebonics, she replies in the same.]

Morty (sighing). I don't understand her words, but I understand her tears. No, I won't cry. I can't show tears; I'm a man.

[Morty's wife speaks in Ebonics.]

When I come back, I swear I'll go back to school and not be absent a single day until I can speak your language also. (Gazing soulfully at her) Your speech makes Ebonics sound so romantic, so musical.

Ben-Dover. Careful, old man... I fear if you start breaking down, she might well faint away.

[She speaks again in Ebonics.]

Morty. (Trying to understand her but failing). Oh... This is impossible!

Ben-Dover (translating). She wants you to lie down on the leather couch with your head on her lap so she can rap to you. She'll rap your favorite song, re-mixed. So you can enjoy it fully.

Morty. Of course, my darling! --And by the time she's done our contract will be drawn up.

[Morty's wife begins to rap. He enjoys it fully, not understanding anything.]

Hot Stuff (Rather impatient, and mockingly romantic). Come on Kris, you're good at this. Come quick and sit down so I can put my head in your lap.

Kris. Stop it. You're being such a jerk tonight.

Hot Stuff (watching Morty and his wife). Jeez, the devil must speak Ebonics; it would explain his lousy temper.

Kris. Really? Then I'm surprised you don't understand it. Your mood's bad enough.

Hot Stuff. Think I'd rather listen to Muttonchop, my terrier, howl in English.

Kris. Do you want me to knock you senseless?

Hot Stuff. No. But...

Kris. Then stop moving, lie still and listen to her.

Hot Stuff (mischievously). That is what femmes are supposed to do, isn't it?

Kris (Scolding with her finger). God help you?

Hot Stuff. To learn to rap? Or to get into her bed?

Kris (covering Hot Stuff's mouth). What did you say? Be quiet and listen to her song.

Hot Stuff (Pushing her hand away). Come on Kris, Rap.

Kris. No way! I don't want to rap.

Hot Stuff (Making fun of her voice). 'God help you... No way... For heaven's sake.' You never swear, you never raise your voice. Come on, baby, let out some profanity. Rap!

Kris. I will not!

Hot Stuff. Then I guess you never will. (Stands up, straightens her suit in a businesslike fashion, and speaks to Ben-Dover) I'm going to check on the contract. It should be finished by now. Anyway, I'll be out of here within two hours once it's been finalized. Call me when you're ready.

Ben-Dover (Pulling at Morty). Come on, Morty. You've been as reluctant to leave as Hot Stuff was anxious to get out of here. The lawyers should be done with our contract. We'll sign it and leave in the limo.

Morty (Recovering himself). All right, let's go.

[They exit.]