Pardon Our Dust

You might have noticed that Musical Decomposition has been on a bit of a hiatus.  For the past two-and-a-half years.  Yes, I am not unaware of the lag.  

What is the fate of MD?  Are there future Decompositions on the horizon?  The answer is a definite, possibly, maybe yes-and-or-no.  

As I've grown and matured as a theatre artist, I have broadened my horizons beyond the sphere of musical theatre.  I have studied Shakespeare.  I have performed Greek plays.  I have delved into stand-up comedy and improv.  I have premiered many an experimental, God-forsaken off-off-Broadway show.  At this moment I am happily ensconced in a Renaissance Faire and am content to gorge myself on smoked turkey legs until my contract runs up.

Meanwhile, I have not performed in a musical for about two years.  I still love musical theatre.  I still believe in it as a medium, and I believe that amazing things can happen when all the elements are in balance.  I began acting in musical theatre and I am in no way done with musical theatre.  In short, I have no problem with musical theatre.

But I do have a problen with Musical Theatre People.

I'm not talking about directors, composers, writers, actors or any of the artists involved with making musical theatre.  I'm talking about the groupies.  The ones who buy ticket after ticket for Spring Awakening but never see a straight play in their lives.  The ones who can quote every line from RENT but have no idea who Henrik Ibsen is.  The ones who bury themselves so deeply into this world of choreography and belted E-flats that they never even attempt to enjoy anything else.

You know the ones.

I first became suspicious of musical theatre people when Sodomygate hit and the Broadway message boards went absolutely apeshit.  Reasonable people were reasonable, but the crazies were absolutely horrid in their condemnation.  There was slut-shaming.  Some tried to justify Barbour's actions (which were mere speculation at the time).  Many accused the young woman (whose identity was concealed from publication all during the legal process) of acting on an opportunistic impulse.  It was a completely ugly affair and for the first time I felt sickened by the Broadway community.

The ax didn't officially fall until almost a year later while I was on tour.  I was having an argument with another actor in the cast.  She was of the opinion that in terms of depth, intelligence and musical quality, Wicked far surpassed the collected works of Gilbert and Sullivan.  I insisted that she was both wrong and high.  By the end of the conversation I was exhausted.  Thinking back on that conversation, I feel exhausted again.  At that point, I was done with Musical Theatre People.

And as I have grown away from the Cult of Idina I have felt this blog become less of a priority.  I still have ideas for Decompositions in my head, but it is getting harder and harder to get them down.  When I started this blog, I was living at home, floating in and out of minimum wage jobs and desperate to find an outlet for my artistic longings.  Now I am officially an adult, auditioning and working full-time and trying to manifest my longings into a career.  It's funny the way life gets in the way of life sometimes.  Not that I call this blog my life, but it's a part of my life.

My point is, I can neither confirm or deny the death of Musical Decomposition.  If you have been waiting all this time for an update, I am incredibly sorry...and a bit scared of you.  For the love of God, go outside and do something.  See a play.  May I suggest something by Ibsen?

Giant Killer Shark: Decomposed

Giant Killer Shark: The Musical
Music & Lyrics: em....
Book: er...GIANT KILLER SHARK, MUTHAFUCKA!
Notes: Something short and sweet to get me back on track. I swear to God, this is an actual show, and it's either the best or worst thing to happen to the theatre.

(Scene: Copyright-Protected Island

Time: The story is timeless)

POLICE CHIEF: We have to close the beach!

COPYRIGHT-PROTECTED ISLANDERS: NO! OUR LEISURE! WAHHHH!

GIANT KILLER SHARK: (terrorizes)

COPYRIGHT-PROTECTED ISLANDERS: (are eaten)

POLICE CHIEF: (facepalm)

OUR HEROES: (get drunk; compare scars in slightly homoerotic way)

THE PLOT: (OMG, it's just like that movie!)

(Curtain.)

copyright © 2006 Musical Decomposition

Tony Awards 2006: Decomposed

2006 Antoinette Perry Awards (brought to you by Subaru)
Music: Everybody
Lyrics: Everybody else
Book: Someone who should never, ever write again.
Notes: There were Tony's this year? Again? Really? Wow.

Jax is back to help me cut The Antoinette Perry Awards into bite-sized digestable chunks, swallow them, spit them up and feed them to our young. Relive the joy, the rage, the montages, the musical numbers, the girl-crushes, the sexual-orientation speculation, the Harry Potter actors, the Snarkjuice™, and the cookies- everything great about Broadway.

JAX: You rang?
AMANDA: TONY'S
JAX: I know it

(AMANDA and JAX are back, and so is the Snarkjuice™- Chardonnay, this time. DANA is not with us this year. She is in New York at the Roundabout Theatre's party. Loser.)

AMANDA: And you know, I think the two best qualified people to recap the Tony's are two girls who haven't seen a show this season
JAX: I saw one!
AMANDA: oh, well... never mind

(The show starts with much pomp and video collage.)

AMANDA: And now, your host...NO ONE!
JAX: I'm just glad it wasn't Oprah.

(Harry Connick Jr. kicks in into high gear with a swinging medley of Broadway standards. "And those crazy stars will all coo-coo where they are...")

JAX: Oh Harry, you're not supposed to be in musicals. You're supposed to sing jazz and be in Hope Floats
AMANDA: Oh my God, why does he remind me of my ex?
JAX: How terrifying
AMANDA: He's like my ex, only less fleshy, and I'm guessing he has a more toned mid-section. STOP IT, HAR-HAR!

(59 other stars simultaneously ascend from some deep dark place. If I were a Tony presenter- co-host, whatever- I would rather be flown in. I'd much rather appear to have descended from heaven to bless one worthy actor than to have risen from hell to destroy the hopes and dreams of four. Then again, all actors are going to hell eventually. I guess it's all relative.)

AMANDA: Joining me are fifty-nine people you've never heard of and Julia Roberts
JAX: Look at Patti jammin'
AMANDA: You think she's drinking already?

(It's alright. These guys are all cool. Well, Julia Roberts isn't; she kind of sucks. But the rest of these guys are pretty great.

And yet...)

AMANDA: WHERE'S ACKMAN???!!
JAX: Huge Ackman?
AMANDA: WHERE'S HUGE ACKMAN???!!

(Then again...)

AMANDA: RALPH!
JAX: I LOVE HIM
AMANDA: RALPH!
JAX: We're having sex.
AMANDA: RALPH!
JAX: I do Lord Voldemort.

(The first award of the evening. Presented by The Closer and Some Guy.)

AMANDA: K. Sedge and...some guy. "blah, blah, blah, I do TV now blah-dee-blah my husband loves Philadelphia"

(Outstanding Performance by a Featured Actor in a Play. Always the least important award, which is why it is presented first.)

JAX: Lets keep a gay count
AMANDA: Okay.
JAX: (counting) Gay...Gay?...Gay.
AMANDA: So....three so far?
JAX: Yes.
AMANDA: Wait...does that include Cynthia Nixon?
JAX: Nope.
AMANDA: Okay...three

(It quickly becomes clear that we've gotten way in over our heads. The Gay Count is euthanized; it's ashes scattered in a puddle outside Radio City Music Hall.

Ian McDiarmid- that's really his name; I looked it up and everything- wins the award for "The Faith Healer", which is The Ralph Fiennes Play.)

AMANDA: Mmm...Ralphamorte

(It is scientific fact that British actors give the best acceptance speeches. So why is this guy so friggin' boring?)

AMANDA: Damnit, this guy is BORING
JAX: I'm not even listening
AMANDA: the Brits are supposed to give the more amusing...oh wait...that was amusing

(He says something amusing. We are amused. The next pair of presenters:)

AMANDA: Rogue McMutant and the would be Mr. Whoopie Goldberg

(Outstanding Performance By a Featured Actress in a Play.)

AMANDA: Tyne Daly could kill you with her fist
JAX: Madame Maxime: I have my money on her.
AMANDA: It's Harry Potter Redux!

(Frances de la Tour awes the audience with her giant powers and she wins. The voice-over makes a vain attempt at clever word play.)

JAX: MAXIME? WORD!!!!!!! I f@#$ing love her.
AMANDA: Well-played, Jax
JAX: Thankies.
AMANDA: "de-la-Tour", "tour-de-force", heh

(It's a good night for "The History Boys" so far.)

JAX: So...History Boys
AMANDA: What is that about, anyway?
JAX: No idea.

(First commercial break of the evening.)

AMANDA: Up next: everyone who's ever been on Broadway ever.
JAX: Precisely
AMANDA: Eleonora Duse presents the best featured actor in a musical award
JAX: Who is that?
AMANDA: Oh hell, Jax

(Coming up next...)

JAX: BERNADETTE! CHITA! BEBE! SUTTON!!!!
AMANDA: DROWSY CHAPERONE!
JAX: That's the one I saw!
AMANDA: No one likes a show-off, Jax.

(There are commercials. The new "Mary Poppins" musical is advertised. AMANDA is convinced, via commercial, why she should visit Philadelphia, even though she is there every week.)

AMANDA: TONY MEMORIES!
JAX: Jane Kraksowski (spelling impossible) is beautiful

(They show the emotional moment when that guy from "Grand Hotel" wins.)

AMANDA: "If you're on drugs...keep doing them and you will win a Tony anyway"
JAX: Sounds like a plan

(Two Velmas appear onstage at the same time. The universe barely escapes implosion.)

JAX: BEBE AND CHITA!
AMANDA: CHEETS!
JAX: Bebe is hot
AMANDA: Cheets is hot!

(Bebe and Cheets tell us about the special group photo taken of anyone still living who has won a Tony. There are barely above 100 people. Some had come ALL THE WAY FROM EUROPE.)

AMANDA: OMIGOD, ALL THE WAY FROM EUROPE!
JAX: Ooh I see me
AMANDA: Wow, that's...not a lot of people
JAX: I know, right?

(The award for Outstanding Choreography in a Musical. As opposed to...Outstanding Choreography in a Liturgical Play?)

AMANDA: DAHNCE!
JAX: My money is on...... Drowsy or PJ [Pajama Game- ed.]
AMANDA: So, we can check these off as all gay, right?
JAX: except Kathleen

(Rob Marshall's sister wins, again)

AMANDA: F@#KING KATHLEEN MARSHALL WINS EVERY TIME
JAX: I know.

(She is overjoyed in her acceptance speech. If she hadn't already won two years ago, it wouldn't be so damned annoying.)

AMANDA: JOYJOYJOY
JAX: Vomitvomitvomit
AMANDA: THANKYOUTOEVERYONEEVERILOVEYOUALLLLL!!!!1!!11!1
JAX: She looks like she's wearing Sara Ramirez's dress from last year
AMANDA: But she doesn't have to yank it up

(She jelly-fishes some praise to her former roommate Rob Ashford, who's fighting away bitchface because he knows the cameras are on him.)

AMANDA: "Rob Ashford is my friend...and now I have more Tony's than him"

(Julianna Marguiles and...some other guy present another award. They present with the enthusiasm one expects from two people recently awakened from a nap.)

AMANDA: Her hair...is slightly ass-shaped
JAX: Yes
AMANDA: Why are all of them presenting like they've downed an Ambien cocktail?

(Someone's going to win.)

JAX: I don't care who wins this one, pass the beer

(S0meone wins.)

AMANDA: Heh, she said Hole
JAX: History Boys 2, Harry Potter 1
AMANDA: Another for History Boys
JAX: Are you jotting these down?
AMANDA: I'm typing away furiously

(It's time for "Drowsy Chaperone": the best fake-old-new musical ever!)

JAX: DROWSY
AMANDA: I WANT TO SEE THIS!

(The Man In The Chair is getting wasted off his drinking game: anytime someone says "Thank you", shot!)

JAX: HE should have picked "hole"

("Drowsy Chaperone" is AWESOME.)

AMANDA: He's precious
JAX: Sutton! Her legs are a mile long
AMANDA: That is some awesome extension. Hey, my future character just walked by
JAX: Yep
AMANDA: The chefs make me giggle
JAX: The amazing Sutton

(Sutton puts everyone to shame.)

AMANDA: I...need to go to the gym
JAX: Me too

(And the grand finale.)

JAX: Belt!!! DO IT!
AMANDA: NO! GO FOR THE SOPRANO!

(She belts, much to AMANDA's dismay.)

JAX: That was compelling
AMANDA: OMIGOD, I NEED TO SEE THAT SHOW!

(Coming up, on Ego Pagent 2006)

AMANDA: SWEENEY! Hey, they have commercials for shows now!
JAX: Chorus Line... starring Alisan Porter... aka, Curly Sue
AMANDA: That..I don't have a comment about that

(Between awards, AMANDA hatches a clever scheme)

AMANDA: So, shall we get a drinking game going?
JAX: Hee! Sure.
AMANDA: Everytime someone says.... History Boys, we drink
JAX: Or... Jersey Boys, drink
AMANDA: Everytime someone thanks their gay lover, drink
JAX: HA!
AMANDA: Everytime...the camera catches a strained looking smile. Everytime...the camera pans to a tearful loved one. Everytime...someone uses the podium to come out. Everytime...someone says "show"
JAX: Shut up.
AMANDA: okay...not "show"... everytime someone from Harry Potter wins.
JAX: One more drink all night?
AMANDA: Yes

(The next two presenters are Lauren Ambrose and Paul RuddRuddRudd, who barely survived the run of a Julia Roberts suck-fest)

JAX: Paul Rudd... I loved you in Clueless.
AMANDA: I love him, period

(It is the award for Best Book of a Musical. Ruuuuuddddddd livens things up by stumbling over the teleprompter and playing it off. We need 20 CCs of whatever he is drinking for the rest of the presenters, stat.)

AMANDA: And that, my friends, is how you present
JAX: I have my money on Drowsy
AMANDA: DROWSY!

(We are correct, sir.)

JAX: YES!!! I f@#$ing love that guy.
AMANDA: CANADA, REPRESENT!
JAX: We like beer eh!
AMANDA: And they're both straight...wouldn't it be weird if they just started kissing?

(Barbara Cook and Paul Schaffer take the stage.)

AMANDA: Barb and her GIANT FACE!

(I know she's a living musical theatre legend and all that, but seriously, her face is HUGE. The two present the award for Best Music and Lyrics.)

AMANDA: The Color Purple: music and lyrics by Oprah, costumes by Oprah...
JAX: DROWSY!!!!! Win win win!
AMANDA: The Wedding Singer. I refuse to support a show based on an Adam Sandler movie
JAX: The Wedding Sucker.
AMANDA: Heheh

(The only nomination for "Woman In White" is thus announced. David Zippel is shown. Briefly.)

AMANDA: but...where's Webber?
JAX: ALW... I thought (hoped) he was dead.

(You can practically hear David Zippel mouth the words "I'm not Andrew Lloy-Webber". Schaf gives flowery praise to Barb so she won't crush him with her giant face. The winner is "Drowsy Chaperone". Everything's coming up cartigans.)

AMANDA: Heh, Schafer's totally crushing
JAX: I F@#KING LOVE THIS SHIT!
AMANDA: You know...I don't think we'll be complaining that much this year.

(Oh, but the show has just started.

The two writers win over the hardened New York audience with their off-beat Canadian charm. They're The Kids In The Music Hall.)

JAX: She looks strung out
AMANDA: Well, she's probably been to more parties this week than she's ever been in her entire life

(Neil Patrick Harris takes a break from snorting cocaine off the behinds of strippers- Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle; movies don't lie- to present with one of the original cast-members of Into The Woods. No, it's not...)

JAX: BERNADETTE!!! WHERE'S BERNADETTE
AMANDA: Wait...did NPH dye his hair?
JAX: Doogie.
AMANDA: SWEENEY! attend, bitches
JAX: Doogie...
AMANDA: LET'S KILL SOME PEOPLE!
JAX: Here comes Patti...she looks a little like Bebe gone all wrong
AMANDA: Ooh, Cerveris looks like he could do with a sammich
JAX: Seriously
AMANDA: Him and his penis-like head
JAX: Who is that guy from the Addams Family? Uncle Fester? It's Uncle Fester Todd.

(It's a "Sweeney" mega-mix: "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd", "The Worst Pies In London", "My Friends"...)

AMANDA: "A LITTLE PREIST", DAMNIT!

(Michael Cerveris sings a love song to his pinking shears.)

AMANDA: These musicals are my friends!
JAX: See the spit fly!
AMANDA: Spit+drama
JAX: = life

(And before we go on to commercial: A brief Ralphamission.)

AMANDA: RALPH
JAX: Lord VoldieSex
AMANDA: Um, I can't believe that Dana complained that Ralph LOOKED. RIGHT. AT. HER.
JAX: She complained about this?
AMANDA: She said it was unnerving
JAX: If he looked me in the eye, I would have sex with him. With or without his consent
AMANDA: Yeah, when that Polish singer told the tabloids about the sex she had with him, all I could think was "that sounds like fun"
JAX: Seriously.
AMANDA: And I wanted to condemn her, but if I had sex with Ralphemort, I would tell everybody...and then broadcast it by satelite so people on other planets would know, too

(Commercials: an ad for "How I Met Your Mother")

AMANDA: Oh, NPH...you and your comic attempts at heterosexuality

(We're back. Liza "Fists of Fury" Minelli shares her Tony memories. What she can remember, at least.)

AMANDA: Oh, Liza
JAX: Oh, drug addict liza
AMANDA: Oh, Liza: husband to all gays

(Rosie Perez goes all legit on our asses and presents le montage du plays. It's mostly the bad ones.)

JAX: I hate montages
AMANDA: Well, at least they're showing more than just still frames of the plays
JAX: JULIA!
AMANDA: ACK!!! THREE DAYS OF CRAP!

(Hank Azaria and Oliver Platt.)

AMANDA: AH! OLIVER PLATT LOOKS LIKE MY EX, TOO!
JAX: Ew

(Best Director of a Musical.)

JAX: DROWSY!!!!
AMANDA: DROWSY!
JAX: GO DROWSY!!!!

(John Doyle, "Sweeney Todd".)

AMANDA: Oh...or that
JAX: F@#$. Uncle Fester Todd won
AMANDA: No...just his British granpa

(Joe Pesci takes a break from obscurity to present with some silent yet strangely content old men.)

AMANDA: Oh...are those supposed to be the Four Seasons? there's only three of them
JAX: They are The Four Seasons. One's dead
AMANDA: Unless Pesci is the fourth...and what the hell has Pesci been doing lately?

(It's time for a musical number from "Jersey Boys". It's called "Jersey Boys" because the boys are from Jersey.)

AMANDA: REPRESENT

(A diminuitive, attractive man croons "Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You".)

AMANDA: Oh, I hope this involves dancing with a Jesus
JAX: I liked it when Heath Ledger sang it

(He is quite good, and did we mention he is attractive?)

JAX: He's hot as hell
AMANDA: Is he the one that went to SU?
JAX: Nope.
AMANDA: Oh
JAX: I don't think so anyway
AMANDA: I know one of them went to SU

(At any rate, one of them did go to SU, so REPRESENT some more. The brass section marches solemnly in the background.)

AMANDA: Omigod, parade of brass cracks me up
JAX: They're doing the staging from Sugar
AMANDA: Just swaying with the instruments
JAX: I played the drums
AMANDA: I was on tenor sax. I think I learned to play an octave

(Then, the one season is joined by the rest of the year to much rejoicing. Is this the age of Aquarius I've heard so much about?)

JAX: I think that one that is wildly snapping is the SUer
AMANDA: He came in back before dance screening
JAX: Haha

(Some back-up type girls shimmy upstage. The song ends. Loudly.)

AMANDA: the skirts are awfully short: And that chord was awfully loud. Hey guys, boys don't belt, remember?

(C0mmercials)

AMANDA: I feel like the Chardonnay is just making me sleepy, not snarky. I mean, I'm not going to stop drinking it, but still.

(As the commercials commerce...)

AMANDA: God, I really miss Huge Ackman
JAX: Me too. Huge made my life.

(Audra MacDonald and Harvey Firestein take the stage. I can't help but wonder what their children might be like.)

JAX: Audra
AMANDA: Harvey
JAX: Weird pair
AMANDA: Audrey McDonald and Harvey Firestein: better people than you

(Audra looks FAB! I mean, I'm not wild about that fabric, but her hair is AWESOME. Montagemontagemontage. The show montages it up. We remember moments we were too young to have actually witnessed.)

AMANDA: PIPPIN! I'M IN IT
JAX: Steve Martin!
AMANDA: Oh, there's young Patti
JAX: Bebe won the Tony

(There are snippets of "Les Miserables" and "CATS". "The Phantom of the Opera" is mentioned.)

AMANDA: And the winner is...England
JAX: Do you hear the people sing, 'Manda?
AMANDA: Oh Christ, Cats
JAX: Betty Buckley= crazy
AMANDA: Wow, look at all the hair Kevin Spacey had
JAX: Woah. I'm terrified.

(Jennifer Holliday takes us home.)

AMANDA: YOU'RE GONNA LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-VUH (gasp) MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

(And then there is Regional Theatre Blah-dee-blah.)

AMANDA: Every year the Tony's award a worthy theatre....but we won't actually do it during the telecast
JAX: That was Celia Keenan Bulger
AMANDA: 'Kay. I don't know who that is
JAX: She's the girl in Spelling Bee. The "I Love You Song" girl
AMANDA: Oh...

(Kristin Bell is next to present and wear Sara Ramirez' dress. Apparently, she was in "Huckleberry Finn Meets The Pirates of Penzance" or something.)

AMANDA: Kristin Bell did...what show now?
JAX: No idea.
AMANDA: And why is burgundy the hott color this year?

(She is paired, appropriately, with Hal Holbrook. Buh?)

JAX: This man is intensely old.
AMANDA: He's not dead yet

(K. Bell breezes through the list of nominees)

AMANDA: Oh, K.Bell: shut it
JAX: She can't read
AMANDA: or breathe. RALPH!

(Oh, Ralph. Never leave the screen ever, ever- Oh, hell. K. Bell is back.)

AMANDA: K. Bell can't pause for dramatic effect
JAX: She's too dumb.
AMANDA: I hate K Bell, I don't care what Television Without Pity thinks

(Somebody wins something. I don't know.)

AMANDA: Hey, was that Madame Hooch?

(Jamie-Lynn Sigler-DiScala-Whatever and Molly Ringwald defy relevence and present the next musical number.)

AMANDA: Ew, Jamie-Lynn
JAX: Too skinny. Eat a sammich
AMANDA: Did they just call her a star of stage and screen? EW.

(Hey guys! It's "The Wedding Singer"! Look at all those shoulder pads and poofy hair! Aren't period fashion idiosyncracies funny? Aren't they?? You better say yes, damnit!)

JAX: Woah woah woah
AMANDA: OMIGOD
JAX: OMGWTFisgoingon?
AMANDA: My knees just twinged
JAX: I just threw up in my mouth.
AMANDA: Too many lyrics with "love"... and, again...the Sandler thing
JAX: I love Sandler though; just not this.
AMANDA: THIS SONG IS SO F@#KING GENERIC!
JAX: Why didn't they just hire Sandler to to the show to round out how insane it is?

(It's a wedding party! Geddit? The Bride is tossed around like a rag doll. The Bride doesn't retaliate by weilding a sword and attacking everyone. Pity.)

JAX: A new Tony Award Sport: Bride flipping
AMANDA: I wonder how many dancers they lost with that move

(It's your wedding day! Love will never go away! So, feel the love! And put on a glove, or LOOOOVE WIIIILL FIIIND YOOUUUU! Doo-doo-doo...)

AMANDA: FUCK, I HATE THIS FUCKING SONG!
JAX: I know me too
AMANDA: ANY SONG THAT MAKES USE OF "DOO-DOO-DOO-DOO" SHOULD BE BANNED
JAX: Look how happy they all are that it's over.
AMANDA: I really don't want to see this show now

(You guys, look! It's an androgynous tambourine-player! And his name is "George"! Bwah! This is so anachronist and cute! I'm laughing so much I want to stab myself in the eye! This number has caused so much glee, I can't handle it! Someone has got to kill me because I can only die from too much happiness!

Up next: a performance from Threesexy Sexpera.)

AMANDA: Wow, Cyndi Lauper was rockin' some serious bed-head there
JAX: Seriously, but... Alan Cumming. Cumming the cologne.
AMANDA: Yikes. that commercial. with the ass. and the monologue. and the ass
JAX: Yes
AMANDA: You know...I've heard he was bisexual. but do you reallly think he's into girls? At all?
JAX: I've also swallowed my whole foot, and then shat it out.

(I don't know what she means, but it sound hilarious.

We're back, and so is Matthew Broderick. We get to see his formally adorable self before Sarah Jessica Parker drained the life out of him. Allegedly.)

AMANDA: Wow, look at the glasses on Broderick
JAX: He was hot back then. And then... botox
AMANDA: Do you think he doesn't wear them anymore because he's married to SJP?
JAX: And collegen
AMANDA: ZING!

(Those boring people from the American Theatre Wing pretend to act and stuff with the current cast of Spamalot. It doesn't work and no one is fooled.)

AMANDA: Oh man, I hate these two. I don't care how many theatres they run, they still suck
JAX: Glad that's over

(Sara Ramirez presents with...some guy. Ironically, she is the only one not wearing the Sara Ramirez dress. They are both charming. I feel kind of bad for not remembering the other guy's name, but I'm too lazy to fact-check.)

JAX: I LOVE THESE TWO! I seriously f@#$ing love these two
AMANDA: This is actually kinda funny
JAX: HA!
AMANDA: I take it back...THIS is how your present an award!

(They present the award for Outstanding Performance by a Featured Actress in a Musical.)

AMANDA: Felicia! I saw her on Oprah
JAX: Beth Leavel! That's you! She was awesome
AMANDA: Me!
JAX: DROWSY!
AMANDA: OPRAH!

(My future character wins, and my fate is sealed.)

JAX: WOOOOOO!!!!!! F@#k yes.
AMANDA: OOH, I WON!
JAX: She's a nut
AMANDA: Damn, look at her sprint
JAX: That is you.
AMANDA: Hell to the yes

(She makes a mad dash to the podium. She's no fool: she knows the orchestra will cut you off. Her stage time is usurped by Ana Gastayer and Jim Dale.)

AMANDA: the crowd: wild
JAX: I really love her
AMANDA: Is Ana...wearing a tiara?
JAX: Yes, she played Elphaba... so she thinks she's entitled

(It's time for "Threepenny")

AMANDA: Okay, let's see what this is about
JAX: Cumming! I'm not... but he is.

(Alan Cumming enters with his mohawk up to there and his shirt unbuttoned down to there. Cyndi looks like she bought her outfit at the Kit Kat Klub's garage sale.)

AMANDA: Alright, I have to admit...I'm a little turned on
JAX: I'm not...but he is.

(They sing about their non-relationship and their illegitimate baby in the style of a polka-tango-funeral march.)

JAX: I'm a little bored.

(They sing for roughly thirty years.)

JAX: They just said "f#$k".
AMANDA: Was that translated from the original German?

(The ensemble then enters to joylessly dance with each other. They keep switching partners, even to ones of their own gender! Decadence! Tango sluts!)

AMANDA: OMIGOD, THERE ARE GUYS DANCING WITH EACH OTHER!

(Alan breaks away from Cyndi to dance with some dude, everyone keeps dancing and then some other dude pulls a gun and points it right at Alan. It's all very WTF? and not as interesting as it appears in print.)

JAX: I have no idea what the hell just happened.
AMANDA: That was just...meh.
JAX: I'm going to go polish my shoes or something equally boring now.
AMANDA: I mean...when I'm seeing two dudes dance together, and someone pulls a gun, I don't expect to yawn. That shit should be more exciting
JAX: Two thumbs down.
AMANDA: Did they really say "f@#$"?
JAX: Yeah. They bleeped it
AMANDA: Huh.
JAX: Well, there has to be a word for "f@#$" in German... they're just so aggressive, I doubt they call it "making love"
AMANDA: If they have a word for "pleasure at the misery of others", they have a word for "f@#$"

(Stop! Commercial time!)

AMANDA: Great, NOW I want a Klondike bar

(We return to the welcoming prescence of S. Epatha Merkeson, who should be at every awards show, no exceptions.)

AMANDA: S. EPATHA MERKESON!
JAX: you know what the "S" stands for?
AMANDA: TUCCI!
JAX: No, it doesn't stand for Tuuci

(Stanley Tucci is also there, yay. They talk about the Best Play nominees and how awesome they are and how bad of a person you are for not seeing them.)

JAX: Is that Uncle Vernon?
AMANDA: Ooh, more Harry Potter!

(Uncle Vernon appears as "Richard Griffiths" in "The History Boys". It's a play about students who let a teacher molest them. I think. "The Lieutenant of Inishmore" is apparently about a guy obsessed with his cat.)

AMANDA: Who doesn't have an obsession about their cats?
JAX: Me. I don't have a cat

(All the Best Play nominees are represented by their set designs in teeny shadowboxes.)

AMANDA: I love these little shadowboxes. I just can't figure how they fit the actors in there.

(Jon Tartaglia and his puppet friend show up for the party. If this becomes a Tony staple, I won't mind. And there's that woman who stole the Tony from Marla Schaffel in 2001. She Who Shall Not Be Named.)

AMANDA: ROD!
JAX: Ooh Rod! Christine Ebersol!

(Oh damn! We named her! Rod says he's a Republican puppet. Christine Ebersol goes for the obvious joke.)

JAX: And the gays go wild!
AMANDA: Oh, SNAP!

(Outstanding Featured Guy in a Musical Whatever. "Drowsy" is up for another award.)

JAX: DROWSY!!!!!! Okay... Drowsy please.
AMANDA: Did he mouth "that's my brother" or "that's my lover"?

("Drowsy" Guy doesn't win. "Jersey" Guy does. "Jersey" Guy is touched.)

AMANDA: Aw, he's crying already!
JAX: I love it when they cry

(He is very teary. I love how in musical theatre, the straight guys are the biggest girls.)

JAX: He got it together. I was fairly sure he was just going to stutter through the entire thing. God Bless Broadway
AMANDA: DRINK!

(Ladies and Gentlemen: Mr. Brian Stokes Mitchell.)

AMANDA: STOKES!
JAX: STOKES! I almost typed Strokes.
AMANDA: STOKES CALLED ME FRIEND!
JAX: Sure did
AMANDA: "I'm here to honor Hal Prince. Also, I am handsome"

(Some unfortunate actors are brought onstage to represent the myriad of shows Hal Prince has been a part of. Among them, "West Side Story"...)

AMANDA: WEST SAH-EED!

(..."Pajama Game" and "Sweeney Todd".)

AMANDA: Wow, this is really kinda corny
JAX: Yeah...uhmm...I'm drinking to forget this.

(Finally, the man himself. He accepts his honor via video; he is too busy and important to actually be in New York right now.)

JAX: Woah. those glasses look like horns
AMANDA: Those glasses eclipse his head

(It's a really short speech.)

AMANDA: And...that's it. The end.
JAX: Dumb.

(The current Broadway Phantom is brought on in full Phantom drag to warble "Music of the Night". The cheese level has been raised from "nacho" to "whiz".)

AMANDA: Oh crap.
JAX: (hangs self)
AMANDA: This is cheesey

(Phantom misses a note.)

JAX: He screwed up!!!!!!
AMANDA: THAT WAS AWESOME!
JAX: Did that just happen!?!?!?!?!
AMANDA: SCHADENFRAUDE!
JAX: He's crying under that mask
AMANDA: I still can't believe that Christine dug even with his massive cold sore showing.

(That is all the love Hal gets this year. An awkwardly-staged montage and half a song. The end. Well done, mate. Now get back to work.)

AMANDA: Omigod, they couldn't come up with anything better than that?
JAX: That sucked ass
AMANDA: I mean, it's Hal F@#$ing Prince

(More commercials. It's the commercial you've been waiting for for the musical movie everyone's been waiting for.)

AMANDA: DREAMGIRLS! Jax, we are the internet's dreamgirls
JAX: Beyonce?
AMANDA: Wow...Jamie Foxx and Eddie Murphy look good in dresses

(As the commercials wrap, AMANDA muses.)

AMANDA: I want another Chardonnay...but I DON'T want another Chardonnay. I'm at a crossroads
JAX: Hmmm. What will make you happy?
AMANDA: BEN VEREEN!

(We are back and Ben Vereen is telling the viewing audience about how awesome it was to win for "Pippin". As well he should.)

AMANDA: So, how many presenters have we been through?
JAX: Who knows?

(There is an adorable old lady, and somebody tells the story about how her Outstanding Newcomer Tony was stolen. She is given a new one to much applause, but...couldn't they have gotten her a replacement earlier?)

AMANDA: Wow, they had awards like "Outstanding Newcomer" back then?
JAX: She had her Tony stolen?
AMANDA: It was me. I traveled back in time just to gank it
JAX: She just got a new one, though. No harm no foul.
AMANDA: Aw, she's old! let's stand for her
JAX: (stand)
AMANDA: Typing like this is hard. Let's sit again

(The adorable old lady fights the teleprompter. The teleprompter wins.)

JAX: She can't read because she's old
AMANDA: She's old and mispronouncing things!

(Best Actress of the Play Persuasion.)

AMANDA: Cynthia Nixon!
JAX: Miranda Hobbes!
AMANDA: I always get Lynn and Venessa Redgrave confused

(Cynthia Nixon is victorious. For the second year in a row, a lesbian has claimed the top prize for theatre acting. My God, if we let them marry, there'll be no stopping them.)

JAX: WOOO! Her girlfriend is ugly though.
AMANDA: Yeah, I still can't believe she went lesbo, but she looks great.
JAX: I can see your nipples Cynth
AMANDA: Does that make me gay? That I think that a lesbian looks good?
JAX: nope. I think she's hot too
AMANDA: I like her hair
JAX: I really love her. Miranda Hobbes is my hero... and Cynthia is her mommy

(Julia Roberts. She's actually onstage. Talk amongst yourselves. I'll give you a topic: she was HORRID in "Three Days of Rain". Discuss.)

AMANDA: BOOOOOO!
JAX: Julia. Go home. Don't you have babies or something?
AMANDA: "You people are insanely talented...and I'm not"
JAX: Thank you for not including yourself in that statement.
AMANDA: "You people"? What the hell does that mean??

(Best Actor: Play. It's Major Harry Potter Villian vs. Minor Harry Potter Villian. It should be obvious by now whom we are rooting for.)

JAX: LORD VOLDIESEX!
AMANDA: RALPHRALPHRALPH!
JAX: I'm so voting Ralph!
AMANDA: IT'S VOLDEMORT VS. UNLCLE VERNNON!
JAX: Kick ass, Voldie!

(And it's Uncle Vernon triumphant. Richard Griffiths and his white tux waddle to the podium.)

JAX: Uncle Vernon won!
AMANDA: This reminds me of March of the Penguins, for some reason. I'M SO EVIL!
JAX: He's sweating...because he's fat
AMANDA: "I used to be in the Royal Shakespeare Company. Recognize, bitches."

(His speech is really great. I wish I could remember it. He loves his wife: I think that was in there.)

JAX: Awww, Uncle Vernon
AMANDA: You see? That's how Brits are supposed to accept awards!

(Another musical performance. "The Pajama Game" is the game we're in.)

AMANDA: The Pajame Game: also known as Philadelphia Tourism
JAX: I love PJ Game
AMANDA: That's because you were in it.
JAX: Twice. I was in it twice!
AMANDA: I love Carnival! for the same reasons

(Kelli O'Hara and Har-Har sing at each other. It's like they are trying to will their vocal chords out through their mouths.)

AMANDA: Go Kelli!
JAX: I hate her a little.
AMANDA: Yeah, but in a good way

(Hernando's Hideaway. Ole!)

JAX: Rock. I love this number. JEN CODY!
AMANDA: Where?
JAX: She was the one that was being carried. Blue dress
AMANDA: Wow, they worked Har-Har's mad piano skillz into the show
Jax: Yup

(We are in awe of Jen Cody. She's, like, three feet tall, and she kicks ass. The fact that she's married to Hunter Foster just ups her awesomosity.)

AMANDA: Oh, tiny one
JAX: I love Jen Cody, she's my chorus girl hero
AMANDA: She and her husband are awesome
JAX: I bet Hunter keeps her in his pocket

(We go to commercials on a high note. Not literally a high note; not F above high C. Just happiness. Genuine happiness, not "The Wedding Singer"-happiness.)

AMANDA: Okay, f@#$ it. I'm getting more wine
JAX: YES!
AMANDA: Done and done
JAX: I think I need a drink. (raids parents liqour)
AMANDA: Let the Snarkjuice™ flow like wine!
JAX: The Snarkjiuce™ is wine
AMANDA: Hee! BOOZE!

(You are watching CBS- the most watched network ever in the history of all time.)

AMANDA: Is CBS really the most-watched network? Are they f@#$ing with us?

(Norbert Leo "Seymour" Butz and Victoria Clark present a presentation. Just go with me.)

AMANDA: Hey, there's your husband!
JAX: NORBERT! MY BOYFRIEND!!! I LOVE YOU!
AMANDA: Or boyfriend, whatever you refer to him as
JAX: Husband: we've since married. I love you, Norb...

(Earlier in the evening, Norb and Vic presented awards that were too important to broadcast. Sarah Jones gets a special Tony for her one-woman show. She is just that awesome. You're just going to have to take me at my word, because GOD FORBID the TONY AWARDS showcase a TONY-WINNING SHOW.)

AMANDA: Um, I wish they had showed more than just to 20 seconds of Bridge and Tunnel. I really really really want to see that
JAX: Seriously
AMANDA: AWAKE AND SING, BITCHES!` Let's add "BITCHES!" to the end of every show title

(Rita Wilson- soon to be seen in "Chicago"- BITCHES!- is joined by Jonathan Pryce. Here's all you need to know about him: he should have won the new Special Tony Award for best replacement actor in a show that has opened in a previous year. The stupid Tony committee didn't even nominate anyone for this brand new award and so they killed the category. It's dead. It's the Tony no one ever won. Cue violin. The end.)

JAX: Rita. You're married to Tom Hanks. Well done.
AMANDA: Aw, Johnny Pryce got shafted this year

(Best Revival of a Musical. It's a lock for "Threepenny", right?)

JAX: I vote PJ
AMANDA: SWEENEY! SWEENEY! BITCHES!
JAX: Uncle Fester Todd scares me

(And the winner is, "Sween"- holy shit, "Pajama Game"?!)

JAX: YES!!! PJ BITCHES!
AMANDA: Bwah? that...was shocking
JAX: YES the happy musical wins!!!! YES YES YES!
AMANDA: NO!
JAX: (Contented sigh)
AMANDA: I LIKE MUSICALS WHERE PEOPLE DIE! MUSICALLY!

(The entire cast of Pajama Game spills onto the stage, and everyone seems really happy.)

JAX: Dana's at the Roundabout party eh?
AMANDA: Yeah
JAX: Because they just blew up I'm sure.
AMANDA: She's gonna get soooo drunk!
JAX: Oh yes, and probably call us un the morning crying about something
AMANDA: Probably
JAX: (sigh)

(Dead Playwrights Jam 2006. Give it up for Wendy Wasserstein and August Wilson!)

AMANDA: Aw, Wass! Wils!
JAX: I know, man
AMANDA: I love Fences
JAX: Wils the Pittsburgher; Pittsburgh was so sad when he died
AMANDA: Wass, the Jew. The Jewish people were sad, too

(James Earl Jones makes it perfectly clear why he is the only Darth Vader by delivering an awesome monologue from "Fences".)

AMANDA: That was awesome: well done, JEJ

(Cynthia Nixon brings it with a monologue from "The Heidi Chronicles". Thank you, Cynthia. We'll be in touch.

Also, Alfre Woodard is there.)

AMANDA: I am distracted by that cleavage
JAX: I admit it... I think she's hot
AMANDA: She [Alfre] was the best Housewife; too bad they never gave her anything to do
JAX: She's not a housewife. oh -- Alfre. I was still thinking about Cynthia who I am wildly attracted to
AMANDA: Yeah, well, they both have awesome cleavage
JAX: Yes.
AMANDA: I'm thinking that in a certain outfit, James Earl Jones might have awesome cleavage, too

(Bring out your dead. Yearly death montage. Real downer, actually.)

AMANDA: Respectful silence: stay classy, Tony audience
JAX: Right on

(And on that sorrowful note, more commercials. Because advertisement should hit you when you're most vulnerable.)

JAX: I'm bored, something really good better happen like... now
AMANDA: Dude, my friend Jason is also IMing me, and I'm slightly drunk, and it's confusing me! Too many words!
JAX: hehe
AMANDA: Chardonnay: bad!
JAX: No no...it's so good

(Marcia Gay Harden and David Hyde Pierce do...something...I think they make out.)

JAX: MGH and DHP
AMANDA: More consonants than any other awards show!

(I'm sure someone wins something, but I'm past the point of remembering.)

AMANDA: (slurs:) How many awards'r left?
JAX: No idea, 1/2 hours worth
AMANDA: Well, I need a number!
JAX: Can't. 'Cause I don't know
AMANDA: F@#$ it, just give every award to The History Boys and Drowsy Chaperone and let's go home
JAX: YES! GREAT PLAN!
AMANDA: There are actors in that audience and they need to start DRINKING
JAX: Truth

(I think it's "Awake and Sing!" for Best Play Revival. I know it wins at some point. Let's just say now, okay?)

AMANDA: CHRIST, that is a lot of people
JAX: Seriously
AMANDA: You know, when I go to the Tony's I'm going to sit near the show that's sure to win, so I can sneak in with all the producers

(Oprah is here to present the show that she is producing, directing, choreographing, starring in, and making the costumes for.)

JAX: Hate you, Oprah
AMANDA: Ooh, I like her hair, though. I like everyone's hair tonight
JAX: Maybe.
AMANDA: "I am Oprah. Bow down!"
JAX: Again, I hate Oprah. She's dumb. and used to do trashy daytime talk shows just like Sally Jessie Raphael
AMANDA: Shuddup, her hair looks great!

(And the award for Outstanding Song Title: "Hell No" from "The Color Purple". Felicia P. Fields brings. it.)

AMANDA: Oh, I like this song
JAX: Hell No! I love it too
AMANDA: YES!
JAX: HELL NO!
AMANDA: HELL YES!
JAX: That's a great title
AMANDA: That is going to be the name of my one-woman show
JAX: HELL NO!
AMANDA: LaChanze has got that deer in headlights look
JAX: Yes she does.
AMANDA: Like: "Wow, I've been out-blacked"
JAX: Go girl! I f@#$ing love LaChanze
AMANDA: And, I lose interest, because I can never do this show

(The cast sings the title song, and it's impressive. I may have shed a tear.)

JAX: Her voice is like... HUGE
AMANDA: Wow, I just got gooesbumps
JAX: Me too, praise Jesus
AMANDA: A-MEnnnnnnnnnn
JAX: I wish I was black.

(Coming up: All these women are better than you!)

JAX: SUTTON!!!!
AMANDA: Cheets!
JAX: Pats!
AMANDA: LaChs!

(AMANDA leaves the computer and then returns.)

AMANDA: I'm back, and I've got cookies!
JAX: Word
AMANDA: Mmm. Chardonnay and cookies. I love eating while drunk: somehow it doesn't seem as bad

(And BACK!)

AMANDA: Wow, is that what Harry Belafonte looks like?
JAX: Apparently
AMANDA: Well, I want to say I think he looked more like Sidney Poitier, but I don't want to go to hell

(Oh crap, I am going to hell, aren't I? But, in my own defence, I wouldn't know the difference between Lynn and Vanessa Redgrave if you stood them next to each other and promised me a night with Alan Rickman if I could properly name them.

That's...that's not the same thing, is it?

OH LOOK! It's Best Actor In A Musical! Shiny!)

AMANDA: BOB MARTIN!
JAX: I vote Martin!

(That little cute guy from "Jersey Boys" wins.)

AMANDA: WAH!
JAX: F@#$.
AMANDA: He mauled the camera
JAX: Goddammut, why does everyone love Frankie Valli?
AMANDA: Wow, people love the Jersey Boys
JAX: Jersy Boys are full of sob stories
AMANDA: And straight guys

(Nankie Nalli accepts his award and he cries and is adorable and we all love him yay.)

AMANDA: I'm a little worried for Drowsy
JAX: Me too. Sutton must win (goes all crazy-eyed)
AMANDA: Calm down
JAX: The Jersey Boys all cry
AMANDA: They are such sensitive straight boys

(Bernadette Peters makes her mandatory Tony appearance. Because the day Bernadette stops appearing on the Tony's is the day the Earth will be engulfed in darkness.)

AMANDA: Do you have a drink?
JAX: Yes
AMANDA: Drink something
JAX: BERNADETTE!!!!
AMANDA: When I'm 56, I hope I look like I'm 15

(Oh, and there's James Naughton.)

AMANDA: "I'm James Naughton, and I have sex with my own voice"

(Best Actress. Musical.)

JAX: Sutton
AMANDA: LaChanze: Like Cher. Only awesome!
Jax: What was that face Patti just made?

(Sutton? Patti? Sutton? Patti?

LACHANZE??? What the f@#$ is going on here?)

JAX: F@#$
AMANDA: OMIGOD!!!!1!11!!1!
JAX: (Hates life cuts wrists)
AMANDA: !11!!!ONE!!!1!ELEVENTY!!1!!1!
JAX: There's nothing more to live for
AMANDA: Aaldfghaogajabvglq348502nb wa2omdfawk...oh hush
JAX: Oh Ti Moune. You will always be a part of us.
AMANDA: And after she won the Tony, she became...
JAX: Insane?
AMANDA: A TREE!

(In all fairness, LaChanze is quite lovely as she accepts her award. AMANDA likes her hair, too.)

AMANDA: Up next: Julie Andrews tells the audience to eat her busted vocal chords, bitches

(AMANDA and JAX confer during the commercials.)

JAX: So, I want Drowsy to win Best Musical
AMANDA: Me too
JAX: If it doesn't I'll go outside strip naked and cry
AMANDA: I kinda want you to do that anyways
JAX: Maybe I'll just eat

(Julie Andrews shows up to present the last and most importantest award of all: "Drowsy Chaperone". I mean, Best Musical. But it's totally "Drowsy". Come on.)

AMANDA: Julie Andrews: "Mary Martin didn't know her ass from her elbow. she can bite my living English ass."

(And..."Drowsy Chaperone". "Drowsy Chaperone.")

JAX: DROWSY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Drow. sy. Chap. er. one.)
AMANDA: COME ON, DROWSY!

("Jersey Boys"? Oh, whatever!)

AMANDA & JAX: F@#$!

(It's bullshit.)

AMANDA: I mean, really! F@#K!

(Total bullshit. All the producers gather like swarms of undeserving wasps on the stage. They are lead by the one with the longest beard.)

AMANDA: Wow, that is one wicked beard
JAX: Who the hell is that rabbi?
AMANDA: Have you noticed that, without Dana, we are more politically incorrect than normal?
JAX: Yes. how odd.

(It's still bullshit.)

JAX: I'm too shocked to live.
AMANDA: Now they're just going to make more jukebox musicals and they're all gonna suck
JAX: I hate my life. (drowns self)
AMANDA: Although, if this means that there's going to be a Tori Amos musical, it will be worth it
JAX: Oh good Christ.

(And now the show is over.)

AMANDA: "I'm Julie Andrews: you can all bone my 60-year-old ass. Goodnight, and f@#$ you all!"

(JAX and AMANDA take stock.)

JAX: Another dissapointing Tony's. F@#$ Jersey Boys
AMANDA: Okay, let's do something to lift our spirits
JAX: I'm going to kill myself with sorrow
AMANDA: Let's speculate on where the winners will be 10 years from now
JAX: Dead. like me
AMANDA: Don't kill yourself. Speculate
JAX: (Cries)
AMANDA: SPECULATE, DAMNIT!
JAX: I don't know how; I only know my sorrow
AMANDA: IF YOU'VE NEVER DO ANOTHER THING, YOU WILL SPECULATE WITH ME NOW!
JAX: (Sigh), fine: as my last act of humor.
AMANDA: Okay: Madame Maxime
JAX: She'll be making Harry Potter 24: Ginny Has a Baby
AMANDA: Ian McDiarmid:
JAX: Who is that again?
AMANDA: (The guy who won for Faith Healer, who wasn't Ralph)
JAX: Mer. Who cares... Lord SexyMort AK'ed him for winning
AMANDA: Okay, we'll just say he went on to teach Math
JAX: Ha
AMANDA: Kathleen Marshall moved into her brother's house and polished her Tony's everyday
JAX: Correct....
AMANDA: Best Director John Doyle:
JAX: Went on to direct the revival of PeeWee's Playhouse
AMANDA: And won praise for his innovative use of actors playing the spoons
JAX: Check.
AMANDA: Awake and Sing author Clifford Odets...is still dead
JAX: Right.
AMANDA: Beth Leavel of the Drowsy Chaperone was arrested for public intoxication, even though she was completely sober
JAX: Right.
AMANDA: Cynthia Nixon...
JAX: Dropped her ugly lesbian girlfriend for a more beautiful up and coming actress Jackie Pepe. They then adopted several Asian children and moved to the Hamptons
AMANDA: Richard Griffiths, of The History Boys...
JAX: Is that Uncle Vernon?
AMANDA: Yes...he bought a lot of white tuxedos
JAX: And loved his wife, until he died of being fat and sweaty
AMANDA: He ate his Tony so it will always be a part of him
JAX: HAHAHAHA
AMANDA: No, wait...RALPH ate the Tony
JAX: He unhinged his jaw and jut consumed it
AMANDA: And then he died because he was too handsome to live
JAX: He's so pretty, I want him to live with Cynthia and I
AMANDA: This is fun! BOOZE!
JAX: Booze is good.
AMANDA: 10 years later, we still don't care about those guys from Jersey Boys
JAX: They're still "straight"
AMANDA: LaChanze continued her winning streak by performing the role of Prince in Purple Rain: The Musical. The Best Musical of 2016 is Orlando Boys: the N*SYNC Musical
JAX: Shut the f@#$ up
AMANDA: Something won for Best Play, but without music, nobody really cared: and that's the end
JAX: Mokay
AMANDA: It was nice snarking with you, Jax
JAX: Always a lovely time
AMANDA: Same time, next year?
JAX: You know it
AMANDA: Awesome
JAX: But if you don't call me before that we're not friends anymore.
AMANDA: Right. Goodnight! BOOZE!
JAX: WOO!

(At some point, "The History Boys" won Best Play, but I forget when. AMANDA falls asleep in Snarkjuice™-induced stupor.)

copyright © 2006 Musical Decomposition

Lestat: Decomposed (brought to you by Dana)

Lestat
music by Elton John
lyrics by Bernie Taupin
book by Linda Woolverton
based on the novels by Anne Rice

Notes: Could it be? Did Amanda actually get off her lazy ass and write another Decomposition? No, not really. But her friend Dana relayed this incredible synopsis of Elton John's latest stab at credibility (just put the knife down, Elty. You'll put someone's eye out.). Enjoy, gentle reader.

ACT I:

DANA: Okay. So, Lestat's all "I killed wolves it was awesome see my knife I stabbed them with it let me smear the blood on my knife all over my face and orgasm over how wonderful it was". So that's the first song. Then the first scene is "Hey ma! I killed a pack of wolves!" "Oh my God Lestat you're nuts!" "Hey Dad! I killed a pack of wolves!" "You weirdo you're messed up like your mom!" (hits Lestat) "Hey dad! you suck! Mom! Dad sucks cuz he hits us! I'm going to Paris!" Cut to Paris: backstage at a theatre and Lestat finds his childhood "friend". "Oh my God! Lestat I've missed you! Glad you're here! Come sleep at my place!" Cut to Nicholas' place "Oh P.S. I have a twin bed" "That's okay, cuz dude I've always had a crush on you" "Me too" "Play your violin for me" Then all of a sudden a random voice and special rippling lighting effect: "LESTAT!!!" "Dude did you hear that? Someone called my name!" "Dude you're nuts" "Dude--I'm going for a walk...at 3 a.m. in 17th century Paris" Lestat walks thru a mysterious alleyway and keeps hearing his name. Suddenly, this weird dude comes out of nowhere. "Dude why do you keep saying my name?" "Because I choose you! Say you want it!" "Dude I am not having sex with you" "No dummy! I want to suck your blood!" "Dude--ok!" Weird dude bites Lestat's neck, tells him to beware the fire, and then jumps into a magical pit of fire that just suddenly appears. (bad special effect where you see the dude take a ride on the elevator behind the flame) Lestat runs away and starts biting people's necks. Oh P.S.- to become a vampire they have to not only have their neck bitten but the victim needs to basically then drink the blood out of the vampire's wrist. REALLY F***ED UP. Okay, so then cut to Lestat's mom in Paris visiting Nicholas: "I always knew you boys would move to Paris together and have a wonderfully illicit love affair". Basically, Mommy loves her little psycho wolf-killing fruit cake. "Yadiyada where's Lestat I am getting sooo sick" "Yadiyada I don't know I haven't seen him for days". Lestat sneaks in, sees Mommy, and Nicholas freaks and runs away. Next scene I can recall is in Mommy's hotel room. She's suddenly about 90 and freaking DYING. Lestat comes to visit. "My son? I'm so sick I'm blind I can't see you". So, then he says "Hey ma, I'm a vampire as of a last night" and she goes "oh good; make me one too" and he's like "are you crazy wench?" and she goes "JUST DO IT DAMMIT!" so then Lestat bites Mom's neck and she sucks the blood out of his wrist and she's like "WHOOPIE!!! I'M ALIVE!!" and Lestat's like "Mom you need to take it easy" and Mom's like "dude--I'm not your mom--I'M AWESOME!". So then something goes on--can't remember what exactly. Oh! I remember! Mom goes crazy and wants to suck EVERYONE's blood, and Lestat's like "chill woman you're making me crazy" and she goes "hey! Let's play a game with God! Let's go into the church!" and Lestat's like "you're nuts", but they do, like dumbasses. So, they're goofing off and being blasphemous up the wazoo, and suddenly this dude appears and is like "hey! You're gonna get all us vampires f***ed! Come with me before I freaking find a magical firepit to throw you in!" So they follow this guy, and it turns out he's this freak who has his own gang of vampires who he emotionally abuses cuz he's messed like that. And he's like "you don't get it! We're messed up and can never leave this cemetary ever! You freaks!" and they're like "we're not the freaks! YOU'RE the freaks!" "No you are!" "No you are!" "Nuh-uh!" "Yuh-huh!" and so on and so forth. And then Lestat and Mommy prove Nutso Guy is nutso and all the vampires suddenly go "hey! We can go out in public at night! Let's become actors and start our own weird-ass miming theatre troupe!" So they do. And suddenly this weird-ass mime play is put on and someone narrates it and there are lots of masks and random fabric everywhere and someone named Marius is mentioned. Oh! And somewhere in there Weirdo Freak Boy tells Lestat "hey Lestat, why don't you turn your boyfriend into a vampire?" and Lestat goes "no! Cuz I love him!" and Nicholas goes "no! I want to be with you! Make me one too!" So Lestat tries and something happens and he winds up f***ing Nicholas up instead. So Nicholas is now a retarded vampire who can only play the violin and Lestat is like "Nicky my love! I will find this weird and elusive Marius who is all powerful and we will save you!". So he takes his retarded violin-playing boyfriend and takes Mommy and they go by foot all over freaking Eurasia looking for this Marius dude who of course never shows up and one day Mommy goes "dude--you need to leave Retarded Violin-Playing Vampire Boy alone cuz he's holding us back" P.S. she's dressed like a man by this point and actually has been since before the church bit. Like that was her first thing as a vampire: put on man's clothes. Cuz I guess she really wants to be a gay man, so she's like "dude you're on your own--you're going without me" but Lestat's like "Mommy I love you" (makeout) WTF?? So she leaves and Lestat goes "oh well--she's right!" (MAGIC PIT OF FIRE APPEARS) and Lestat goes "dude--you're too much baggage--we're breaking up" (dumps RV-PVB into fire; bad special effect where we see him stand up behind the "wall o' flames" to take a ride on the elevator) Magic Fire goes away, Lestat tosses ashes, gets pissy, sings a song about it. All of a sudden--ROCK PARTS--THERE'S MARIUS!! and Lestat goes "MARIUS! YOU F***ER!" End Act 1.

ACT II:

DANA: Lestat and Marius are fishing, cuz you know that's what vampires do. They fish, but they don't eat the fish. They play "let's throw them back". So they're fishing and Lestat is like "dude why'd you f*** up?" and Marius is like "eh, I wanted to" and Lestat is like "dude so what's the deal? Especially with Weirdo Freakazoid and his gang?" and Marius is like "dude I made him and I F***ED UP!" so we realize that Weirdo Freakazoid who thinks he's Marius' little angel is actually Marius' big mistake--SUCKS TO BE HIM. Anyways, Lestat goes "dude--my mom thinks she's a gay man and has run off, I just tossed my retarded violin-playing boyfriend into a pit of fire, and you showed up after the fact--NOW WHAT?" And Marius goes "eh--go to America?" So Lestat goes "okay" and he does. He gets to New Orleans and it's raunchy as hell and Lestat goes "Oh yeah--daddy's gonna have a good time!" so he goes and he sees some poor drunk sap and goes "dude! what's wrong?? Get yourself laid or something!" and the guy goes "I just failed at committing suicide" and Lestat goes "oh well--then I'll suck your blood" and turns him into a vampire and Lestat's like "sweet! I have a new boyfriend! But something's missing in my life" and then he sees a sick girl in the streets and goes "honey what's wrong?" and she goes "my parents are dead and I'm dying" and Lestat goes "I'll be your new daddy--hell you can have 2 daddies!" so he turns her into a vampire and then I'm not sure what but suddenly we jump and everyone's settled and comfortable and we find out that Claudia has killed every staff member in the house and has a mountain full of dolls and we find out she's a sick little f*** cuz she sings this whole song about wanting more and Lestat is like "dudes--chill--life is sweet" and Louis (new bf) is like "dude no it's not" and Claudia's like "Daddy 2 is right--you suck as a daddy" and it's ball season so Louis and Lestat say "hey! Hunting season! Yay!" and take Claudia and go dancing. Claudia admits she's 12 but in love with Louis and then gets an idea: she drugs this random chick and takes her back home so Lestat goes for it and it winds up almost killing him... but it doesn't so she goes "f***er! You're supposed to die!" so she lights a fire and her and Louis run out of the house and they disappear and Lestat gets jaded and decides "f*** America! I'm going back home to Europe!" so he storms off back to Europe and goes to the theatre and they're doing "Dracula" (oooh soo ironic) and guess who's there? Lestat goes "F***ERS TRIED TO KILL ME!!" but Weirdoboy McFreaky is also there and goes "so we'll kill them!" and Louis points at Claudia and goes "dudes! It's all her! I didn't know any better!" so they strap her into a chair during the sunrise: bye bye Claudia. Louis...crap I can't remember what happens to him, but Lestat and W.M. wind up on the roof somehow and Lestat goes "Marius doesn't love you!" and W.M. goes "does too!" "does not!" "yuh-huh!" "nah-uh!" "really?" "yup" "DAMMIT!" and then they fight and I can't remember what happens but Weirdo Freakazoid McBoogly-butt dies and Lestat is like "YES! VICTORY IS MINE! I'M THE MAN!" but actually he's kind of not cuz he fell or something and his legs are "broken" but he's a dumbass and forgets that he lives forever cuz he's a vampire! And suddenly Marius and crazy Mommy are there going "yes Lestat! You can walk! Get up! Be the glorious vampire you were meant to be!" and then all of a sudden Lestat comes out in like a red button-down shirt and jeans and is like "I'm still here bitches! and I'm not going anywhere!" AAAAAND....CURTAIN!

copyright © 2006 Musical Decomposition

CATS: Decomposed

CATS
music by Andrew Lloyd Webber
based on the work of T.S. Eliot. Yes really.
Notes: Sometimes, you can fool all of the people all of the time. On the one hand, this show gave Terrence Mann unto the world. On the other hand, it horked up giant, pretentious hairballs all over Broadway for eighteen years. Then again...I'm sure there must be something else good about "CATS"...but...eighteen years.

It was the best of shows, it was the worst of shows. It wore out it's welcome many times over, but finally it went to the big flying tire in the sky.

Still...eight. teen. years.

ACT I

(Scene: an alley in vaguely-80s-Edwardian England. I believe. Or maybe not.

There are cats.)

CATS: Scratch! Lick! Lick! Purr! Kick! Scratch! Scratch! Lick! Lick! Purr! Kick! Scratch! Scratch! Lick! Lick! Purr! Kick! Scratch!

(There are more cats. Some Thundercat in S&M gear Ricky-Martins his pelvis all over the stage. Also, there is a shoe. And tap-dancing. And possibly a war.)

CATS: That connects with...Purr! Purr! Flick! Flick! Hiss! Scratch! Step! Turn! Lick! Lick! Purr! Kick! Spray!

GRIZABELLA: What am I? A mouse on heroin or something?

(Intermission.)

ACT II

CATS: Second verse, same as the first! Spray!

(Stuff happens. It might have been plot, but...can't...remember...brain...hurts...)

GRIZABELLA: Is it feline leukemia? Catnip abuse? Seriously, what the hell's wrong with me?

(Curtain. Garnish with tire.)

© copyright 2005 Musical Decomposition

Jane Eyre: Decomposed

Jane Eyre
Music by Paul Gordon
Lyrics by Paul Gordon and John Caird
Book by John Caird based on the novel by Charlotte Bronte
Notes: Winter, 2000. It was a happier time, a simpler time. There was no war in Iraq, the two towers still loomed over New York. People seemed to laugh more then...there were concerts in the park.
Of course things changed. Please read about this nice little musical from those halcyon days, and maybe, just maybe, we can remember that there was a time when James Barbour wasn't a Scientologist.


ACT I

(The dignified form of JANE EYRE approaches the stage with simple grace.)

JANE: Gentle audience, WASSUP BITCHES!

(The place: Gateshead, where spirits go to be broken. We see YOUNG JANE playing by herself in the attic. O, woe is little orphan JANE! Wither the handsome strapping barritone who will set her heart and her soul free? Will she be crushed by life before she’s old enough to get any?)

JANE: So, I was an orphan, and that sucked. And my foster family had that unfortunate nineteenth century villainy disease that afflicts many fictional Victorian characters. I spent a lot of time in the attic, which was fine, if you considered the alternative.
JOHN REED: (Emerging from trap-door) Jane, my fist is a little smudged. POLISH IT WITH YOUR FACE!
YOUNG JANE: OW! MY SPIRIT!
MRS. REED: JANE! How dare you not let your cousin use you as a punching bag! You will pay for this.
JOHN REED: Ha-ha!
YOUNG JANE: Oh, this can’t be good.


(Lowood School for Strong-Willed Orphans...)

MRS. SCATCHERD: All of you SIT DOWN AND SHUT UP! LITTLE GIRLS, LITTLE GIRLS, EVERYDAY I EAT DRINK AND BREATHE THEM...
SOME STUDENT: Psst! Wrong musical.
MRS. SCATCHERD: I SAID SHUT THE HELL UP!
MR. BROCKLEHURST: Students, this is our newest pupil, Jane Eyre. Her benefactress, Mrs. Reed, informs me that she is prone to lying.
YOUNG JANE: Mrs. Reed is a vengeful bitch!
MR. BROCKLEHURST: You see! So, nobody talk or associate at all with young Jane, or your souls will burn in hell.
YOUNG JANE: It feels like home already.
JANE: Things were not looking good, but then I made a friend!
HELEN: Jane, you’ve got, like, serious anger issues.
YOUNG JANE: But Mr. Brocklehurst made me stand on a stool! In front of everyone! First my family mistreats me, then my teachers abuse me. Why is everyone in my life always giving me shit?
HELEN: I dunno, but if you’re relaxed and groovy about it, then you get into heaven.
YOUNG JANE: Do you honestly believe that?
HELEN: Do I have much of a choice?
YOUNG JANE: Touche.
JANE: So, Helen and I were BFFs, and for a while things didn’t seem so bad. But then one day...

(The stage swings around to reveal HELEN in a tiny bed. She no look so good.)

HELEN: Jane, I’m dying of Thyphus.
YOUNG JANE: Nooooooooo!!! You were the only person I knew who didn’t hit me with things! Why must you leave me?!
HELEN: It’s all good, Jane. I’m going to go to heaven, and someday I’ll meet you there, too.
YOUNG JANE: Oh...that heaven thing...right...
JANE: So, Helen died, and I decided to make some major changes in my life.
YOUNG JANE: I’m going to make some major changes in my life!
JANE: The next eight years of my life are so boring, Charlotte Bronte did not even bother to write about them. Anyway, the closer we get to the good bits, the happier we’ll all be. I’m eighteen now, and I’ve become a teacher. And for some reason, a weird ghostly chorus follows me around and talks about my life.
GHOSTLY CHORUS: Rock on. Well, Jane went through the mundane life as a Thornfield teacher, day in, day out. Yet, her spirit could not be broken, so she left to become a governess and claim her freedom.
JANE: So, why did I spend so many years at a place that sucked?
GHOSTLY CHORUS: Honey, the adults are talking.

(JANE goes to Thornfield for her new job.)

MRS. FAIRFAX: Ah, you must be the new governess! I’m the lovably befuddled Mrs. Fairfax. And this is Robert, the butler. He’s nice, but a bit queer.
AUDIENCE: Tee-hee!
MRS. FAIRFAX: I meant “queer” as in“strange”, feebs! God, did you even read the book?
AUDIENCE: (hang heads in shame)
MRS. FAIRFAX: This is your student, Adele.
ADELE: Bonjour! Ah am French, but for zee sake of zees production Ah only ‘ave zees OUTRAGEOUS accent! Come, Robert! Ah blow mah nose at choo!
JANE: She’s...cute.
MRS. FAIRFAX: Yes, but quite the handful. Mr. Rochester and I think she might have ADD.
JANE: Mr. Who-what-now?
MRS. FAIRFAX: Rochester. Owns the place. Don’t you know him?
JANE: You mean, you don’t own Thornfield?
MRS. FAIRFAX. Oh, bless your heart, dear! No, I’m just the comic relief. But Mr. Rochester is hardly ever here. I doubt he’ll show up and change your life or anything.
MYSTERIOUS VOICE: BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
JANE: AHHH!!! What the hell was that?
MRS. FAIRFAX: Just a little plot point, dear. These old houses often have them. Oh, have you met Grace Poole?
GRACE: Greetings, Miss Eyre. Hope you’re a light sleeper. BWAHAHAHAHA!!!
JANE: ...

(Sometime later...)

GHOSTLY CHORUS: So, Jane got a sweet new job and decided to celebrate by taking a walk. Woo-hoo! As she walked down the path a horse suddenly came down the road. Jane had nowhere to go! She was trapped!
JANE: AHHH!!!
OFF-STAGE HORSE: AHHH!!!
OFF-STAGE VOICE: AHHH!!!
GHOSTLY CHORUS: A stranger fell off his horse.
FOXY STRANGER: (rolls onstage)
PEOPLE WHO READ THE BOOK: Wha-??
EVERYONE ELSE: Ooooh!
JANE: Are you injured, sir?
FOXY STRANGER: Not at all, I only FELL OFF MY DAMN HORSE! What do you think?
JANE: Well, if you’re going to be a bitch about it, I’ll just go home.
FOXY STRANGER: Home? Where do you live?
JANE: Thornfield. I’m the new governess.
FOXY STRANGER: Reeeeeeeally? So, how do you like the owner?
JANE: Don’t know. Never met him.
FOXY STRANGER: Well, you better go, then. Thanks for knocking me off my horse. Bye! (exits)
JANE: ‘The hell?

(JANE goes back to Thornfield...)

MRS. FAIRFAX: Jane! Mr. Rochester is back!
JANE: Wha-???
GHOSTLY CHORUS: Turns out the Foxy Stranger was Mr. Rochester all along! Who saw that one coming?
BRONTE PURISTS: (grumblegrumblenotsupposedtobefoxygrumblegrumblenoPilotgrumble)
REST OF AUDIENCE: SHUT UP! HE’S HAWT!
ADELE: Meess Eyre! Come an’ meet mah fake daddy!
ROCHESTER: Adele, why don’t you and Mrs. Fairfax piss off?
ADELE AND MRS. FAIRFAX: (piss off)
ROCHESTER: Ah, alone at last.
JANE: Again.
ROCHESTER: Whatever. So, tell me, Miss Eyre, how do you like Thornfield?
JANE: Very much, sir.
ROCHESTER: Do you find me handsome?
JANE: No sir.
AUDIENCE: LIAR!
ROCHESTER: Ooh, fiesty! But I can also tell you’re good of heart. Once upon a time, I was too...
JANE: (sotto voce:) Ooh, this is gonna be good.
ROCHESTER: (kickin’ it backstory style:) Well, when I was much younger, I had intimate relations with a French opera dancer. She dumped me for someone else, and years later when I saw her again she had a daughter, Adele. She said that she was also mine, and politely asked me to take the little one to Thornfield as she was getting in the way of her whoring. Tthat is how Adele came to live at Thornfield. You may go get your things, I’ll call you a cab.
JANE: What do you mean?
ROCHESTER: Well, this is 1847. Don’t you want to cross your self and scream or faint or something?
JANE: Uh, not today.
ROCHESTER: Wait, you mean...you’re cool with this?
JANE. Yeah. Do you have any other dirtly laundry you’d like to air out?
ROCHESTER: ...no?
JANE: Sweet. Then, I’m going to bed. ‘Night. (exits)
ROCHESTER: Wow. Nice girl. I am absolutely not attracted to her at all. Yet.

(Late that night...)

MYSTERIOUS FIGURE: BWAHAHAHA!!! Burninating the bed curtains! Burninating the linens! (torches ROCHESTER’s bed, and skedaddles)
JANE: What’s going on? Who was laughing? What was so funny?
ROCHESTER’S BED: (burns)
JANE: GAH!!! THAT’S NOT FUNNY! WAKE UP, MR. ROCHESTER!
ROCHESTER: (does not wake up)
JANE: WAKEUPWAKEUPWAKEUP!!!
ROCHESTER: (still does not wake up)
JANE: STOP, DROP AND ROLL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!
ROCHESTER: (no wakey)
JANE: GAH! (empties pitcher on Rochester)
ROCHESTER: AHH!!! I’M ALL WET!
AUDIENCE: HOORAY!
JANE: Someone set your sheets on fire!
ROCHESTER: What are you talking about?! I don’t have a crazy wife in the attic!
JANE: ...what?
ROCHESTER: I mean...oh look! You’re cold. Would you like my coat? Of course you would. Well, there ya go. Goodnight Jane.
JANE: Sir! Someone just tried to KILL you!
ROCHESTER: What? You want a hand shake, too? Well, fine. There. No questions. Goodnight! (exits)
JANE: He nearly immolated and then he brushed me off. Why...it must be love!

(The next morning, JANE’s boudoir)

GRACE: Wake up, Miss Eyre.
JANE: (waking) Wha-? Is it morning? What time is- (sees GRACE) AUGHHH!!!
GRACE: Nice to see you, too. Look, Mr. Rochester is having some guests over today, so he asked me to give you this slightly-less-black dress to put on.
JANE: Ooh, off-the-shoulder. Nice. Say, Grace, you didn’t hear anything suspicious last night, did you?
GRACE: Nope. Not a thing. BWAHAHAHA!!!
JANE: (backs away slowly)

CHORUS: And then, some rich people showed up: all pretty and rich, and Blanche Ingram was the prettiest girl with the highest notes of them all. Oh, did we mention that Jane is kind of plain? We thought that was kind of obvious, even though Marla Schaffel is a supa-fine lady.
ROCHESTER: Oh, Blanche! Your lovely face and coloratura is just what my life has been missing!
JANE: (whimpering, sotto voce) I’m so plain! And I’m a mezzo! What chance do I have?
ROCHESTER: Well, now that I’ve surrounded myself with all you pretty, rich people absolutely NOTHING can bring me down!
ROBERT: (entering) Sir, there is somebody here to see you: a Mr. Richard M. Plotpoint of Plotpoint Town, Jamaica.
ROCHESTER: Oh, bugger.
JANE: Are you alright, sir?
ROCHESTER: Jane, let’s say hypothetically, that I had done something very very bad in my past. Something I cannot escape. Something bad enough to freak out the Richie Riches and boot me out of all decent society.
JANE: You’re...not a Scientologist, are you?
ROCHESTER: No.
JANE: Well, then, I don’t know what could be so wrong that you could not attone for.
ROCHESTER: Alrighty. Well, off you go, Jane.
GHOSTLY CHORUS: Torn by their inner passions and guilt, Rochester and Jane simultaneously sing of their unrequited love.
ROCHESTER/JANE: I AM SO IN LOVE WITH HER/HIM AND I CAN’T SHOW IT.
MYSTERIOUS FIGURE: THATCHED-ROOF COTTAGES!!!!!
ROCHESTER/JANE: OI! GET OUT OF OUR ACT I FINALE, YOU SHROUDED SLUT!

ACT II

GHOSTLY CHORUS: Welcome back. Did you have a nice intermission? Was there a line in the ladies room? Man, I hate that. Anyway, Jane still loves Rochester. Rochester still loves Jane. Neither of them will own up to it. Will they get together, or what? If you’ve read the book, you already know, and even if you haven’t, well, what happens to unrequited lovers in musicals nine times out of ten anyway? Exactly. Anyhoo, here’s Richard (you know? That guy who showed up before that frantic duet?), so on with the show.
RICHARD: (searches with lamp) Poopsie...Poopsie...Poopsie...
MYSTERIOUS FIGURE: Hey, buddy! This ain’t Poopsie! I STRIKE AGAIN! (chomp.)

(Some time later...)

ROCHESTER: Psst! Jane! Are you awake and fully dressed?
JANE: Oddly enough, yes.
ROCHESTER: Oh good! Well, then can you give me a hand? Mr. Plotpoint had an “acident”.
RICHARD: (is bleeding buckets)
JANE: OH MY DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN! Did someone BITE his throat?!
ROCHESTER: No, I’m sure he just fell.
JANE: On someone’s teeth?!
ROCHESTER: Just help me sneak Mr. Plotpoint out of the house in the middle of the night, as per normal procedure in these type of situations. Nothing out of the ordinary, no need to ask questions.
RICHARD: (woozy) She seemed so calm when I found her.
ROCHESTER: Whoa there, Richard. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re getting delerious. You don’t know what you’re talking about.
RICHARD: (woozier still) Just take good care of her...
ROCHESTER: Oh, sure, Richard. I’ll take “good care” of “her”. I’ll get the “pixies” and “unicorns” to help. WHATEVER you say. Off you go now.
RICHARD: (stumbles off)
ROCHESTER: Heh-heh. Oh, that Richard! He always talks crazy when he’s had a severe blood loss. Now, abruptly changing the subject: Jane, what do you think of Miss Ingram?
JANE: I think she’s a spoiled, vindictive gold-digger who’s only after you for your money.
ROCHESTER: Yeah, but she’s pretty, so it doesn’t really matter. Well, goodnight Jane! (leaves)
JANE: OH, BUGGER! WHO AM I KIDDING?! I’M SO NOT PRETTY! EDWARD WOULD NEVER MARRY A STUPID, STINKY OLD GOVERNESS WHO DRESSES LIKE A CHEKHOV SPINSTER!
NICE GHOSTLY CHORUS: Jane then paints two pictures: one of herself on her worst hair day, and one of Blanche at her prettiest, wittiest, and brightest.
JANE: You know what? This did not make me feel better. (bawls)

(The next day, in the garden at Thornfield...)

BLANCHE: OH, I AM SO HAPPY! I’m going to marry Edward and have pots of money, and it doesn’t even bother me that I don’t love him! SQUEEEEE!!!
JANE: I’ll miss you, tree! I’ll miss you, shrub! I’ll miss you, twig! Oh, Blimey! THIS SUCKS!
BLANCHE’S RICH POSSE: Oh, Blanchey! We’re soooooo bored! We totally respect you in your gold-digging pursuits, but we’re all going stir-crazy!
BLANCHE: Oh, word times infinity. This show is, like, five years long, and I get fifteen minutes of stage time.
POSSE: WAAAAAAHHH!!! IS THERE NOTHING TO DO IN THIS GOD-FORSAKEN LAND?!?!
ROBERT: (entering) An old gypsy woman has arrived, and if any young lady going crazy from boredom in this God-forsaken land would like to visit her and have their fortunes told, they may do so.
BLANCHE AND RICH GIRLS: Whoo-hoo!
ROBERT: Miss Eyre, you may visit, too.
JANE: Me? Why would I want to have my fortune told by an old fraud?
ROBERT: Because it’s free.
JANE: Woot! I’m there!

(A room in Thornfield...)

GYPSY: (to the POSSE:) Okay, here are your fortunes: you all suck.
POSSE: (pouts)
BLANCHE: What about me?
GYPSY: You’re a conniving, heartless golddigger.
BLANCHE: ...and?
GYPSY: And you will never know true happiness because you place material worth over what is real and good.
BLANCHE: ...and?
GYPSY: And the guy you’re chasing isn’t really rich.
BLANCHE: Gah! The horror! I’ma gettin’ out of here! I have all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give. I will survive. I WILL SURVIVE! (exuent rich people)
GYPSY: And you, young lady. What would you like to know?
JANE: What have you got, Miss Cleo?
GYPSY: Well, how about the guy that owns this place? I hear he’s quite a dish, wouldn’t you agree? He’s single, right?
JANE: Waaaaaaaiiit a minute. Who are you, really?
GYPSY: (rips off disguise)
JANE: Why, it’s Old Man Rochester! The guy who owns the haunted estate!
ROCHESTER: And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn’t been for that meddling governess!
ROBERT: (entering) Mr. Rochester, the rich folk have all up and left without any warning.
ROCHESTER: Oh no. They are. Gone. I am. So sad...Fancy a walk in the garden, Jane?
JANE: Sure.

(Back in the garden...)

ROCHESTER: So, Jane. You’ve worked out really well as a governess. As your boss, I would like to know if you’ve enjoyed your employment here.
JANE: It’s been pretty sweet, sir.
ROCHESTER: Good. Well, for your next governess assignment...
JANE: Wha-??
ROCHESTER: Oh, didn’t I tell you? I’ve taken the liberty of finding you a new place. How does Ireland sound?
JANE: Ireland?! I...but...I...
ROCHESTER: Jane what’s the matter? You’d rather go to Scotland?
JANE: NO, I WOULD NOT RATHER GO TO SCOTLAND, YOU DUMBASS! I’D RATHER STAY HERE, YOU IGNORANT DOOF!!! DON’T YOU KNOW I’VE BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU SINCE ACT I, AND YOU’VE BEEN MACKING ON THE RICH BITCH RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME THE ENTIRE TIME, YOU SELF-IMPORTANT, OBLIVIOUS BASTARD!!!
ROCHESTER: Well, actually, I’d rather marry you.
JANE: AND ANOTHER THING...what?
ROCHESTER: I want to marry you, Jane.
JANE: Huh? Buh? Is this Opposite Day?
ROCHESTER: Come on, Janie, you’re the woman I’m meant to be with. You are my second self. We’re so much alike. We’re both insanely attractive, even though every character in the show says otherwise. We’re perfect for each other.
JANE: So, what was the deal with Sarah Brightman then?
ROCHESTER: A clever scheme to get you to fall in love with me.
JANE: Well, okay. I guess that’s...wait...what?
ROCHESTER: Look, do you want to marry me or not?
JANE: I dunno...
ROCHESTER: Need convincing? Well, how about THIS.
JANE: (swoons) Oh...he sing pretty!
ROCHESTER: Call me “Edward”.
JANE: Edward.
ROCHESTER: Call me “Eddie”!
JANE: Eddie!
ROCHESTER: Call me “My Smoking English Love Crumpet”!
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: ...
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: ...
JANE: So, can we make out now?
ROCHESTER: Hell yeah.
AUDIENCE: FINALLY!
ROCHESTER: Come, Jane! Let us prepare for our wedding!
PEOPLE WHO HAVEN’T READ THE BOOK: Wow. This was a short show.

(Another room in Thornfield...how big is this house, anyway?)

SOME SERVANTS: (look out imaginary window)
A SERVANT: What happened?
ANOTHER SERVANT: The Old Chestnut Tree, which has not even been mentioned until now, has been split in half by lightning.
A SERVANT: Well, that can’t be good.
MRS. FAIRFAX: OUT OF MY WAY, MINIONS! FEATURED CHARACTER COMING THOUGH, AND SHE’S MIGHTY PISSED!
ADELE: Peessed about what, Madame?
MRS. FAIRFAX: OH MY GOD! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! IN ALL MY YEARS! THE MASTER MARRYING THE GOVERNESS!
ADELE: WHEE!!! Ah ‘ave a fake mommy to go weez mah fake daddy!
JANE: (entering) Morning Adele, Mrs. Fairfax!
MRS. FAIRFAX: JANE, YOU AVENTAGEOUS LITTLE SLUT! HOW DARE YOU MARRY ABOVE YOUR STATION!!! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?!?!
JANE: You do know you’re invited to the wedding, don’t you Mrs. Fairfax?
MRS. FAIRFAX: ...Please, call me “Mom”!

(The wedding ceremony. Those who haven’t read the book begin to put their coats on.)

PRIEST: Dearly beloved...
LAWYER: Stop this wedding!
JANE, ROCHESTER, MRS. FAIRFAX, PRIEST: Wha-??
LAWYER: My client here says that this wedding cannot go on!
MRS. FAIRFAX: Who?
LAWYER: Him! (dramatic finger)
JANE: Mr. Plotpoint?!
ROCHESTER: Oh shit.
RICHARD: Edward here has already married, and his wife is still alive, and THEY ARE STILL MARRIED.
EVERYONE: (gasp!)
JANE: Edward, it’s not true, is it?
ROCHESTER: ...Oh, hell. Field trip to the attic, everyone.

(The attic...)

GHOSTLY CHORUS: Grace plays “Babysitters Club” to the Mysterious Figure, aka, Mrs. Bertha Rochester. It turns out she’s crazy...like, Gary Oldman crazy.
ROCHESTER: Alright, everyone. This is my wife, Bertha. Bertha, this is everyone.
BERTHA: BLAHBUGGEDEHBUGGEDEHBLEEBLEESOCRAZY!
RICHARD: Sis! How are ya? Remember me? You tried to kill me the other night! You were always the outgoing one.
EVERYONE: ...
MRS. FAIRFAX: Oh...so, uh, this is...your wife...well...she seems...she’s rather...
ROCHESTER: SHE’S BAT-SHIT INSANE, ALRIGHT? No need to namby-pamby around that; you can’t hurt her feelings!
BERTHA: PSYCHO-CRUSHER!
ROCHESTER: Damnit, Grace! Hold her back! What the hell do you think I’m paying you for?
JANE: How the...when did...hudda...wudda...?
ROCHESTER: Okay, backstory: My dad decided to marry me off so that my older brother could solely inherit Thornfield. They introduced me to Bertha in Jamaica, who seemed perfectly normal at the time. However, what everyone but me knew was that Bertha’s mom went crazy from some weird genetic defect that Richard will probably inherit, too.
RICHARD: Hey!
ROCHESTER: So, sometime after we got married, Bertha ate her crazycakes, my dad and brother died, and I got suicidally depressed. My only choice was to move BACK to England, tell no one about my marriage, hire a completely inept guardian to watch over my wife in the attic, and live as if nothing had happened. So, you see, it’s all good! I’m sorry I decieved you, Jane. I know we can never marry now, but that doesn’t change anything between us, does it?
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: Jane?
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: Jane?!?!
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: DAMNIT, JANE!
JANE: Oh...What would Jesus do?
JESUS: RUN LIKE HELL!
JANE: (runs like hell)
ROCHESTER: GAH! NO PAIN COULD BE DEEPER! NO LIFE COULD BE CHEAPER! NO POINT ANYMORE, IF I CAN’T LOVE HER!!!
SOME AUDIENCE MEMBER: Psst! Wrong musical!
ROCHESTER: (grumbles)

(Meanwhile...)

BERTHA: CRAZY I AM! I am ROCHDOR: THE BURNINATOR! (plays with fire, Thornfield goes up in flames)
BERTHA: (also goes up in flames)
ROCHESTER, ADELE, MRS. FAIRFAX, ETC.: ???

(Somewhere far, far away from the flaming mansion...)

GHOSTLY CHORUS: In her haste to get away from Edward, Jane may have forgotten a few things...like food, water, and money.
JANE: Hmmm, didn’t really think this through. (keels over)
CHEERFUL GOOBER: (entering) Oh my God! Are you alright, miss?
JANE: Eh, not really. Who are you?
CHEERFUL GOOBER: St. John Rivers.
BRONTE PURISTS: (facepalm)
ST. JOHN: You look a little tired. Why don’t you rest at the house where I’m looking after a dying widow.
JANE: Oh my God! I’m back at Gateshead!
BRONTE PURISTS: (head for the concession stand bar)

(MRS. REED’s room...)

MRS. REED: (waking up) AUGH! Oh, I just had a horrible dream. That wretched Jane Eyre had come back to haunt me!
JANE: Hello, Aunt Reed.
MRS. REED: AUUUGGGGHHH!!! WAKE WAKE WAKE!!!
JANE: You’re not dreaming, Aunt Reed. I’ve returned.
MRS. REED: Well, as long as you’re here, we might as well talk. You know, Jane, you and I never got along.
JANE: ...and?
MRS. REED: And that’s it. I always hated you, always will. Even as I lay here dying, I curse the day your mom and dad became stupid enough to die and leave me with you. And now you’re going to get all my money because John up and died on me, too. BUT I STILL HATE YOU!
JANE: That’s okay.
MRS. REED: DON’T GIVE ME THAT BACK-TALK YOU DISRESPECTFUL LITTLE- what?
JANE: ‘Salright. I forgive you for your wanton neglect and abuse.
MRS. REED: ...Oh. (pause) Are you sure you’re a feminist icon?
GHOSTLY CHORUS: Sometime later, Mrs. Reed finally died leaving Jane her fortune. She’s now an independant woman, and she and St. John while away the days singing on rocks.

(Some rocks...)

ST. JOHN: THE HIIIIILLS ARE ALIIIIIIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUUUSIIIC...
JANE: Psst! Wrong musical.
ST. JOHN: Oops! Sorry. Jane, I think you’d make a great wife. Of course, I won’t actually love you since I’m such a goober. But we’ll spend lots of time in sweltering, God-forsaken countries doing back-breaking work while manipulating the beliefs of the locals. Sounds like fun, eh?
JANE: I don’t know...couldn’t you possibly be my cousin?
ST. JOHN: Shppff, of course not. Why would you think that?
JANE: Still, can I have a moment to think about this?
ST. JOHN: Okay, I’ll time you.
JANE: Are you there God? It’s me, Jane. What should I do? Should I marry this goober because I have no other options in life?
MYSTERIOUS VOICE (NO, NOT THAT ONE; ANOTHER ONE): JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!!!
JANE: What’s that, God? I didn’t catch that.
MYSTERIOUS VOICE: JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!!!
JANE: You know, God, you sound a lot like my Edward.
MYSTERIOUS VOICE: JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANE!!!
JANE: Holy cripe! You ARE my Edward! EDDDDIIIIIIEEE!!! I’M COOOOOOMIIING!!!
ST. JOHN: Jane! What’s wrong?
JANE: St. John, I’ve decided just now that I have to leave IMMEDIATELY. Thanks for the half-assed proposal and all that, but you’ll have kick righteous ass with me. Ta!

(Thornfield, extra chrispy...)

JANE: Mrs. Fairfax! What happened here?
MRS. FAIRFAX: Well, what do you want to hear first? The bad news, the good news, or the bad news?
JANE: ...
FAIRFAX: Well, the bad news is that Bertha burnt Thornfield to cinders. The good news is that she also pitched herself off the roof, leaving anyone who wished to marry Mr. Rochester no moral obstacles.
JANE: ...and the bad news?
FAIRFAX: ...Mr.Rochesteriskindablindandhasnolefthand. Sorry.
JANE: Look, if outward appearance mattered to me, I would have married that goober, St. John! Where is Edward?
MRS. FAIRFAX: By the Broken Chestnut Tree of Irony or Metaphor or something.

(The Broken Chestnut Tree of Irony or...whatever. ROCHESTER’s left hand is gone, and he’s also blind.)

ROCHESTER: Gah! Who is that?
JANE: Pilot knows me.
ROCHESTER: Who’s Pilot?
JANE: ...
ROCHESTER: Jane?! Is that you?!
JANE: It is!
ROCHESTER: Janie!
JANE: Eddie!
HANDS (THAT AREN’T MISSING): (clasp)
ROCHESTER: Tell me, Jane...and be honest...how do I look?
JANE: Er...you’ve had better days, sir.
ROCHESTER: That’s my girl! So, Jane? Anything new?
JANE: As a matter of fact, yeah! My Aunt died and I inheritted her fortune! I’M RICH, BIOTCH!
ROCHESTER: Well, damn. I’m blind, crippled, and poor. How could you possibly want me now?
JANE: Dude, do you know me at all? My love for you is greater than money, sight and left hands. I’d never leave you!
ROCHESTER: Except that...you did.
JANE: ...Whatever. The point is I’m back. And I’m not leaving THIS TIME.
ROCHESTER: Well, good. Because I missed you. I missed you so much, in fact, that the other day I screamed your name THREE TIMES.
JANE: THREE TIMES?
ROCHESTER: THREE TIMES! And the weirdest part was, I heard a voice answer, and it said-
JANE: “EDDDDIIIIIIEEE!!! I’M COOOOOOMIIING!!!” Like that?
ROCHESTER: Yes! But how did...who the...buh?
JANE: It’s okay, Edward. I’m not leaving you ever again. Just SAY YOU’LL SHARE WITH ME ONE LOVE, ONE LIFETIME! SAY THE WORD, AND I WILL FOLLOW YOU...
ROCHESTER: Psst! Wrong musical!

(Epilogue...)

JANE: So, gentle audience, Edward and I got married, and by the time our son was born Edward could see again. And so love conquered all, we lived happily ever after, etc. etc. etc.
As for the show itself, well, we thought about adding a chorus number with tap-dancing Nazis, but that was scratched. I lost the Tony to Christine Ebersole, and in spite of the efforts of Alanis Morrissette we closed in early June that year. But the show lives on in the original Broadway cast recording, the vocal selections book, several regional productions, and the continuing fervent fan worship of the Eyreheads, bless their crazy hearts. However, If you didn’t see this show while it was running, feel free to kick yourself as hard and as often as possible. Thank you, and goodnight!

(Curtain)

© copyright 2005 Musical Decomposition