Intermission Announcement

(Scene: the interior of a Broadway theatre. Time: day.

An audience waits ever so patiently in their seats. They have been sitting there for over two months. Nothing has happened in that span of time, and they are restless. The food supply in the concession stand had been exhausted long ago. Playbills® are chewed unceremoniously. The ushers that have not escaped have been eaten.

Suddenly, there is a ruffling from the velvet curtains. AMANDA appears before the ravenous crowd. Timidly, she speaks...)

AMANDA: Um, hello? Hello, everyone? Everyone, good evening. Thank you for your patience.

AN AUDIENCE MEMBER: IT'S BEEN TWO FREAKIN' MONTHS!

AMANDA: Yes, well, I realize that...

ANOTHER AUDIENCE MEMBER: I HAVEN'T SEEN MY FAMILY SINCE JULY!

AMANDA: Hey, that's not my fau-

ANOTHER ANOTHER AUDIENCE MEMBER: ALL YOU GIVE US IS THREE ENTRIES AND THEN YOU DISSAPPEAR ON US. WE DEMAND AN EXPLANATION!

SOME AUDIENCE MEMBER: AND MORE USHERS!

ALSO AN AUDIENCE MEMBER: YES! BIGGER ONES!

AUDIENCE: (chanting) MORE! USHERS! MORE! USHERS! MORE! USHERS!

AMANDA: Okay, you guys? I didn't force you to stay here. You didn't have to eat my ushers.

AUDIENCE: ...Oh.

AMANDA: But now that I have your attention, I do want to announce that this site, "Musical Decomposition", will now be updated every month. Watch out for an update within the next two weeks. Expect parodies on some well-known shows by Frank Wildhorn, Lerner & Loewe, Sondheim...

AUDIENCE: NO, NOT SONDHEIM!

AMANDA: Yes. Even Sondheim.

AUDIENCE: (gasp)

AMANDA: So, make sure to visit regularly. If you have a favorite musical you'd like to see decomposed, mention it in the comments. So, that's all I have to say at the moment. Thank you very much.

AN AUDIENCE MEMBER: BUT, WHEN ARE WE GOING TO GET MORE USHERS???

AMANDA: When you promise to stop eating them.

AN AUDIENCE MEMBER: (grumble)

Brigadoon: Decomposed

Brigadoon
music by Frederick Loewe
lyrics and book by Alan Jay Lerner
based on a myth that was either Scottish, or German, or both

YE OLDE FOREST O' EXPOSITIONE

(Enter two Americans, Tommy and Jeff, who chat expositionally.)

TOMMY: Wow, Jeff, we sure are LOST. We came all the way from NEW YORK and we got LOST in SCOTLAND.
JEFF: Yes, quite. And I drink.
TOMMY: I can't believe how LOST we are. Also, I'm having reservations about my upcoming marriage.
JEFF: I drink A LOT.

(Suddenly, Misty Mystical Highland voices call out to them.)

MISTY MYSTICAL HIGHLAND VOICES: Brigadoon...Brigadoon...We sing about ourselves for no reason, Brigadoon...
JEFF: Damn, this whiskey is starting to kick in.
TOMMY: Omigod, look! A little village that totally wasn't there five minutes ago! Let's check it out.
JEFF: My drunkeness prevents me from arguing out of this. Okay, let's go.

(And the only plausible bit in the show is over.)

Brigadoon

(And...we have a title! We're in Brigadoon: the charmingingly time-displaced Scottish town of the 1740's, a halcyon time marked by it's love of spontaneous musical numbers.

So, the Brigadoon...ian..ites are fairing it up, and there's a general excitement about the forthcoming nuptials of the charming JEAN MACLAREN and CHARLIE DALRYMPLE, who, in spite of his awkward last name is still charming.

Speaking of awkward, JEAN strikes up a conversation with her ex, HARRY BEATON who is not very charming.)

JEAN: So...Harry...how are things?
HARRY BEATON: Oh, fine.
JEAN: Really?
HARRY: Yeah. Fine. I can never go to college to do something meaningful with my life, and now I’m stuck watching you be some other man’s wife for all eternity. SURE! EVERYTHING’S PEACHY-F#$%ING-KEEN!
JEAN: ...So, does that mean you're not coming to the wedding?
HARRY: Wha-??? Buh??? Nnnnnnnnngggggghhh, GODDAMNIT WOMAN! (leaves in huff)
JEAN: Well...that went okay.

(JEAN'S dad, who likes the sound of his own voice, makes some official announcement:)

MACLAREN: Let me remind you to give thanks for the MIRACLE that took place two days ago, because surely you would have forgotten by now.

(Meanwhile: FIONA, the charming sister of the charming JEAN goes shopping. She buys milk from MEG, who's the Town Haggis: everyone's had a peice.)

MEG: Hey there, Fiona! How’re the wedding preparations going?
FIONA: Fine, Meg. How’s the slutting going?
MEG: As good as can be expected. By the way, when are you gonna get hitched?
FIONA: When someone comes along who makes me think of marriage.
MEG: Isn’t that a little difficult considering-
FIONA: I SAID, "WHEN SOMEONE COMES ALONG WHO MAKES ME THINK OF MARRIAGE."
MEG: Whatever.

(And right on cue, Tommy and Jeff enter)

MEG: Someone I haven't slept with yet! Sweet!
BRIGADOON...IAN...ITES: (unsubtle staring)
TOMMY: Uh, hi. We are kinda lost...so...if you could help us out with that...that would be...great...
BRIGADOON...IAN...ITES: (still staring; but charmingly)
JEFF: Aw, screw this. Let's go find us a HoJo and a martini.
FIONA: Wait, you can't leave.
TOMMY: Why not?
FIONA: Because then we wouldn't have a show. Stay here and share subtle, 1940's sexual tension with me.
TOMMY: Okay.
MEG: I'll take the one who smells like scotch.

(Meg drags Jeff off towards impending sex.)

TOMMY: I better call the hotel. Can I use a telephone?
FIONA: Quoi?
TOMMY: A phone. Can I use a telephone?
FIONA: A what-a-what?
TOMMY: (loudly) NEC. CES. IT. O. TEL. E. FO. NO.
FIONA: Don’t patronize me, sir. We don’t have a damn phone.
TOMMY: What? What the hell kinda place is this, anyway?
FIONA: (changing the subject) Oh, look! It’s that guy who’s going to marry my sister later! You must meet him.
(Enter CHARLIE DALRYMPLE, he of the unfortunate last name. They all start drinking at like 9:00 AM, but I guess it's never too early to drink in the Highlands, eh?

Kidding! Don't hate me, Scottish people!)

CHARLIE: A toast: to Brigadoon, Mr. Forsythe, the MIRACLE, etc. SALUD!
TOMMY: Mirawhuh?
FIONA: No talking. It's drinky time.

(FIONA and TOMMY exit. CHARLIE sings a song about his bachelor life. It's quite long, actually. It goes into several refrains. He's the male version of Meg. Still, he is charming, so all is forgiven.

Oh, there's also a dance sequence where HARRY tries to pick up a girl and fails miserably. Then everyone clears the stage and FIONA and TOMMY saunter back on picking up where we left off.)

TOMMY: So, I guess that whole scene was...rather pointless?
FIONA: Pretty much. Yeah.

(beat)

TOMMY: So...why is everyone around so corsetty and waistcoaty and two hundred years out of place?
FIONA: ...I have no idea what you're talking about.
TOMMY: I'm just saying, it's a little weird.
FIONA: What? You're
the one who's weird.
TOMMY: Say what? You're nuts, and so is everybody else here.
FIONA: SAY THAT AGAIN ABOUT MY TOWN AND I'LL CRACK YO ASS, BITCH!

(beat)

TOMMY: ...Dude!
FIONA: (calming down) Sorry. I just get a little defensive about my people. I was just keeping it real, yo.
TOMMY: Okay...so, you...wanna hang out or something?
FIONA: Oh, I can't. I've got a millions things to do, and-
TOMMY: (sings:) Can't we two go walkin' together,
out beyond the valley of trees?
Out where there's a hillside of heather,
curtsyin' gently in the breeze.
That's what I'd like to do: see the heather-but with you...

(pause)

What the hell was that?
FIONA: Oh, it's just this place. It does that to you.
TOMMY: Oh.
FIONA: Actually, I could use a little company. Come with me. I will tell you about Scottish life and you can tell me about those teeth on your pockets.
TOMMY: Those are zippers.

MEG'S YE OLDE SHACKE O' SLUTTERY

(JEFF and MEG have stopped to "rest".)

MEG: ...and my mother conceived me in this very shack. Right in the very bed we're sitting on right now.
JEFF: Great. I'll try not to think about that as I go to sleep.
MEG: But, wait. Don't you want to...talk? (cough, cough)sexnow(cough)
JEFF: What?
MEG: Me so horny. Me love you long time.
JEFF: Uh, no thank you.
MEG: Huh? I'm sitting here with my legs akimbo and you're not going to do a thing about it? What gives, man?
JEFF: ...Got any whiskey?

(Aaaaaand, scene.)

CASA DE MACLAREN

(All the womenfolk help JEAN pack for her honeymoon, because apparently everyone in Brigadoon has nothing better to do than to help out with this wedding.)

CHARLIE: Hello, Mr. MacLaren! I’m here to sign the family plotpoint.
MACLAREN: Oh, you mean the bible? Help yourself! And please feel free to use the other room where it’ll be easier to concentrate. Yes.

(CHARLIE does so, which allows HARRY to get his whine on.)

HARRY: It's not fair! I'm stuck forever in this shite-pile of a town.
MACLAREN: Yeah. And don't forget that part about some other dude marrying my daughter, whom you love. That really must suck.
HARRY: WAH! I wish I could leave! I wish this whole town would just dissappear!

(HARRY exits in a huff. CHARLIE enters without having heard a word of the preceding conversation.)

CHARLIE: (returning) Wow, it took a lot longer to sign my name than one would expect. Is everything okay?
MACLAREN: Wha-? Oh yeah. Everything’s fine. Nothing happened in here that will come back to bite us in the ass later.
CHARLIE: Cool. Should I put this bible away?
MACLAREN: No, just leave it out here. I’m sure it won’t be found by any time-travelling Americans and completely give away our game.

(TOMMY and FIONA return from the field where they've been collecting heather all day. If you want to find a euphemism in there, happy hunting, my friend.)

TOMMY: Well, collecting heather certainly is invigorating, isn't it?
FIONA: Yes, it is.

(They make out. A lot. I would say they're over their earlier awkwardness.

FIONA leaves and JEFF enters sporting a pair of plaid pants from L.L. Bean's Post-Coital Collection.)

TOMMY: Dude, what happened to your pants?
JEFF: I tore them on a "thistle". A really slutty "thistle". And what have you been doing all day?
TOMMY: Well, not much, but I feel...(sings:)
All the music of life seems to be
like a bell that is ringing for me!
And from the way that I feel when that bell starts to peal,
I could swear I was falling, I would swear I was falling,
It's almost like being in love!!!
JEFF: ...What the hell was that?

(But Tommy doesn’t answer because he has just noticed the family plotpoint bible, and starts to read it:)

BIBLE: Fiona MacLaren was born in seventeen-twenty-something. Yes, the very name of the very girl you’ve been macking on all day.
TOMMY: (reads)
BIBLE: And her little sister is marrying that dude, Charlie, on this date. Only, not this exact date, because according to this Bible it’s 200 years ago.
TOMMY: (wheels...turning...)
BIBLE: AND DIDN’T YOU NOTICE THAT THERE’S NO ELECTRICITY OR PHONE OR RUNNING WATER AND EVERYONE DRESSES IN CORSETS AND STUFF? ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING???
TOMMY: ...Hey, something's not right.
FIONA: (entering) Hey Tommy! What do you want to (notices Bible)...oh, shit.
TOMMY: Um...Fiona...is there...something you want to tell me?
FIONA: Okay, fine. I’ll take you to Mr. Lundie who will tell you everything.
TOMMY: Why do you have to take me to him?
FIONA: Because he has a PhD in Backstory.

WHEREVER LUNDIE HANGS OUT WHEN THE STRESS OF BEING CHARMING BECOMES TOO MUCH

FIONA: 'Sup, Mr. Lundie.
LUNDIE: 'Sup.
FIONA: These are some Americans I met like forty-five minutes ago. I was wondering if you can tell them all about the super-secret MIRACLE of Brigadoon.
LUNDIE: Okay, here’s the deal: 200 years ago the highlands of Scotland were plagued by witches that may or may not have actually existed. Mr. Forsythe, the town minister, and I discussed the problem and came to the obvious solution...
JEFF: You burned hundreds of people at the stake without benefit of charge or trial?
LUNDIE: (silence)
FIONA: I told you we should have done that!
LUNDIE: Aaaanyway, we decided the best solution was to pray to God for a MIRACLE: to make Brigadoon and everything and everyone in it dissappear and then return for exactly one day every hundred years because...that makes sense...on some planet...in some galaxy...that we haven’t yet discovered...
TOMMY: It’s okay. We left plausibility back in the woods. I believe you.
LUNDIE: Oh good! So, Mr. Forsythe waited until Charlie came back from school so that nothing would go wrong with the wedding and just assumed that everyone else would be okay with this. He prayed to God on a hilltop away from Brigadoon because he wanted to make the sacrifice to save his town. Or something. At any rate, we never saw him again, and that’s sad. Also, he asked God that if anyone were ever to leave, the entire town would dissappear forever. I don’t ever see that becoming a problem. He also made sure that if an outsider (cough, cough) fell in love (cough, cough) with anyone who lived in Brigadoon (cough, cough) he could stay.
TOMMY: You okay there? Do you need a glass of water or something?
LUNDIE: I said IF AN OUTSIDER FELL IN LOVE WITH ANYONE WHO LIVED IN BRIGADOON HE COULD STAY!
TOMMY: Dude, I heard you the first time! Why are you shouting?
LUNDIE: Whatever. In time you will come to understand...preferably sometime before we go back into cryogenic slumber.
FIONA: Oh yikes! I gotta go get changed for the wedding.
TOMMY: Oh right: wedding! Jeff, do you want to stay to see it? (tauntingly) Open bar...
JEFF: Oh fine.

(FIONA leaves. LUNDIE has a moment with our heroes.)

LUNDIE: You know, sometimes when I sleep at night, I can hear voices crying out for a Brigadoon of their own.
VOICES: AaaaahhhhhaaaahhhAAAHHHAAAHHHaaahhhaaahhhAAAAAAHHHH!
JEFF: ...the hell was that all about?
LUNDIE: Oh, nothing really. It was just covering a costume change. Actually, forget I said anything.

THE WEDDING

(The whole town has showed up for JEAN and CHARLIE's wedding. It's the event of the century, for real!)

LUNDIE: We don’t have a minister, so why don’t why don't you just pledge eternal love and we'll just take it from there.
JEAN: I love you, and stuff.
CHARLIE: I love you, and more stuff.
LUNDIE: I now pronounce you Mr. and Mrs. Weirdlastname.
JEAN AND CHARLIE: WOOT! (eat each other’s faces)

(Everyone parties like it's 1799. Even HARRY has caught the spirit and sworddances with the other mens. Kilts go flying to dangerous levels. All is love and light and happiness and kilts...until HARRY breaks formation, grabs JEAN and rapes her face with his tongue.)

CHARLIE: Oi! That's my wife! Get your own.

(CHARLIE administers a two-fisted beatdown to HARRY, who then pulls out a small blade which holds back the entire town even though there were about a dozen swords onstage two minutes ago.)

SOMEWHERE DEEP IN THE FOREST

PLAUSIBILITY: Hello? I think I was left behind. Little help? Somebody?

BACK AT THE WEDDING

HARRY: Man, I have had enough of all this backwoods mystical shit, I am so out of here!
TOWNSFOLK: Omigod! None of us saw this coming since scene two!
JEAN: Harry, I might have gone out with you, but you just weren't very charming.
HARRY: EFF YOU! EFF YOU, AND F@#$ YOU! (leaves in a huff)

(The citizens freeze in panic. Shock! Horror! The future of Brigadoon hangs in the balance! So much excitement! And curtain.)

ACT II

YE OLDE FOREST OF SUSPENSEFUL CHOREOGRAPHYE

(The menfolk are in hot persuit of runaway HARRY. They search the entire forest, yet somehow keep coming back to one stage-sized clearing in the woods.)

MENFOLK: (Chase, chase, chase!)
HARRY: Run, run, run!
TOMMY: Oh my God! We’ve got to help save the town! It means more to me than life!
JEFF: Hey, up until today you didn’t even know this place existed.
TOMMY: Just help me look for him, Sloshed McShitfaced!
MENFOLK: (Chase, chase, chase!)
HARRY: (Run, run, run!)
ANGUS: You guys go that way, I'll go this way.
SOME SCOT: Will we catch him faster if we dance so that our kilts fly up to indecent levels?
ANGUS: ...yes.
MENFOLK: (Chase, chase, chase!)
HARRY: (Run, run, run!)
KILTS: (go flying)
AUDIENCE: (sees London, sees France...)
MENFOLK: (Chase!)
HARRY: (Run!)
MENFOLK: (Chase!)
HARRY: (Run!)
MENFOLK: (Chase!)
HARRY: (Run!)
MENFOLK: (Chase!)
HARRY: (Run! RunrunrunRUUUUNNNN!)
TOMMY: MY GOD WILL NOTHING STOP HIM?!?!
OFF-STAGE VOICE: AAAUUUGGGHHHHHH!!!

(SOME SCOT carries on Harry; he's really dead.)

SOME SCOT: Looks like he tripped and hit his head on a rock...or something.
TOMMY: Wow, how convenient.
ANGUS: Yeah, we couldn’t have planned that better if we tried.
STUART: Look, there’s no reason to let this ruin the wedding party. Let’s wait until tomorrow to tell everyone.
TOMMY: You mean a hundred years later when he’s completely decomposed?
STUART: Yeah...something like that.

BACK AT BRIGADOON

MACLAREN: Alright, everyone! We caught Harry. Show’s over, nothing to see here.
ARCHIE BEATON: Where is my son? Did he get hurt?
MACLAREN: (shiftily) No, and he certainly didn’t die in the woods back there. I don’t know why you would think that.
FIONA: Tommy? Tommy, where are you? Angus, where's Tommy?
ANGUS: Who's Tommy?
FIONA: Tommy! Where's Tommy?
ANGUS: Where's Tommy? You mean Who's Tommy?
FIONA: No! Where's Tommy?
ANGUS: Well, if Where's Tommy, Who's on first?
FIONA: What?
ANGUS: Huh?
FIONA: WHERE IS THE TIME-TRAVELLING AMERICAN WITH THE DRUNK FRIEND?!?!
ANGUS: Oh, him. He's over there.
TOMMY: Hi.
FIONA: TOMMY! I was so worried! I thought you weren't coming back.
TOMMY: Of course I came back. Fiona...
FIONA: Yes, Tommy?
TOMMY: I have something to tell you.
FIONA: What is it, Tommy?
TOMMY: Well...(sings:)
I saw a man with his head bowed low.
His heart had no place to go.
I looked and I thought to myself with a sigh:
There but for you go I.
I saw a man walking by the sea,
Alone with the tide was he.
I looked and I thought as I watched him go by:
There but for you go I...
FIONA: Tommy, stop singing and tell me what you wanted to tell me.
TOMMY: (stops singing) Huh? Oh. I love you, Fiona.
FIONA: WOOT! I love you, too! Come on, let's go find Mr. Lundie and see what we have to do.
TOMMY: Can't I finish my song first?
FIONA: I really don't think we have ti-
TOMMY: (sings:)
I saw a man who had never known
a love that was all his own.
I thought as I thanked all the stars in the sky:
There, but for you, go I.
FIONA: Are you finished?
TOMMY: Yes.
FIONA: Good. Let's go.

THE WEDDING PARTY, CONT.

(Having apparently forgotten all about their brush with death, the Brigadooners have gone back to partying. MEG regales all with a chapter from "Les Contes des Slutwomann.")

MEG: Y'all think this wedding was nuts? Shoot, my mom's wedding turned into a drunken, violent orgy. And I know, because I was there. Ahh, memories.
BRIGADOONIES: Ha-ha! Tell us another one, Aunt Meg!

(Tales of ribaldry will have to wait for another time, as the lights turn down and the music of bagpipes fill the air. The corpse of HARRY is carried onto stage on a litter. I guess the idea for concealing his untimely demise did not go according to plan.

MAGGIE, that chick HARRY tried to hit on earlier, does a mourny dance of deathly death. ARCHIE BEATON cries. It is very very very sad.)

THE DALRYMPLE HOUSEHOLD, 50 (5000) YEARS LATER

JEAN: ...and that's the story of how your grandfather and I got married.
GRANDKIDS: Wow, Grandma. That sucks.

THE WEDNERAL

(The funeral procession follows HARRY'S body offstage. JEFF and TOMMY have been watching the entire time.)

JEFF: Sad stuff. Makes me wish I didn't kill that kid.
TOMMY: YOU WHAT???
JEFF: I didn't mean to. I kinda accidentally on purpose tripped him and a rock smushed his head in, or something.
TOMMY: Oh my God, that's terrible.
JEFF: Yeah. Still, no use crying over spilt haggis. Let's blow.
TOMMY: Actually, I'm going to stay.
JEFF: WHA-???
TOMMY: I'm in love with Fiona, and I'm going to stay with her here until the end of time.
JEFF: Okay, first of all, at the rate our planet's going, I'm guessing you two have a week, two weeks tops. Secondly, you can't just up and leave everything! What about your friends? Your family? Your drinking buddy? Jane?
TOMMY: Who's Jane?
JEFF: YOUR FIANCE.
TOMMY: Fiona makes me feel things I've never felt with Jane. I feel happier, more alive, I burst out into song...
JEFF: Yeah, about that: that's become really annoying.
TOMMY: I love Fiona, I'm staying and that's that.
JEFF: FINE! You stay here in North Bumblef***. I hope you'll be very happy without toilets, electricity, and Vietnamese food. Just don't come crying to me tomorrow when you realize you've made a mistake, BECAUSE I'LL BE DEAD. (leaves)
FIONA: (entering) Tommy, what was that all about?
TOMMY: Fiona, I'm sorry. I can't go through with it. I just need more time.
FIONA: I understand.
TOMMY: You do?
FIONA: No, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
TOMMY: Fiona?
FIONA: Yes, Tommy?
TOMMY: Will you...burst out into song with me...one last time?
FIONA: Of course.
TOMMY & FIONA: (sing:)
Through all the years to come,
and through all the tears to come,
I know I'll be yours from this day on.

(MISTY MYSTICAL HIGHLAND VOICES sing softly as FIONA and Brigadoon are swallowed in the mist.)

FIONA: (dissappearing) Remember me...remember the love that we shared...try not to have sex with anyone...

(And, she is gone. TOMMY wanders offstage as if waking from a dream. Curtain.

Ha! Just kidding. There's still more show.)

NEW YORK, A BAR, THREE MONTHS LATER

JEFF: I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly...
BARTENDER FRANK: So, where is Mr. Tommy?
JEFF: I dunno. We got back from Scotland, and then he took off and no one has heard from him.
BARTENDER FRANK: That's strange.
JEFF: You want to know something strange? I'm beginning to see the bottom of my glass.

(Then, TOMMY walks in. Omigod, this is so unexpected!)

JEFF: Tommy! (hic) How the hell are ya?
TOMMY: Not so good, actually. I miss Scotland, I miss Brigadoon...and I miss Fiona.
JEFF: Oh Christ, you're not going to start singing again, are you?

(Just then, JANE, TOMMY's fiancee, enters.)

JANE: OMIGODTOMMY!
JEFF: Uh-oh. It's the old ball 'n chain. I'm not sticking around for this. Good luck, Tommygun.

(JEFF wanders drunkenly offstage. JANE begins to berate TOMMY.)

JANE: And just where the hell have you been these past three months?
TOMMY: I dunno. Doin' stuff.
JANE: Well, I hope you're ready to start planning for the wedding because I've been working my ass off...

(JANE's voice dissappears as TOMMY's memory is awakened.)

MEMORY GHOST FIONA: SAY THAT AGAIN ABOUT MY TOWN AND I'LL CRACK YO ASS, BITCH!

(Then, Tommy realizes: HE'S MADE A MISTAKE.)

TOMMY: What have I done? Jane, I can't marry you.
JANE: Are you shitting me?
TOMMY: I'm sorry.
JANE: You're sorry? You leave me hanging for three months, then out of the blue break up our engagement, and you're sorry?! Well, you can take your "sorry" and shove it up your-
MEMORY GHOST CHARLIE: (sings of the bachelor life.)
TOMMY: 'The hell? Why am I fantasizing about Charlie? I wasn’t even there for that song!
JANE: ...Until the handle breaks off, and you've got to get a surgeon to pull it out again! GOODBYE!
MEMORY GHOST FIONA: Remember me. Remember the love we shared. Remember. Siiiimbaaaa....

(TOMMY springs into action. He calls JEFF, who is just sober enough to ensure his participation in an upcoming trip to Scotland. He's going back! Woo!)

TOMMY: The only woman I ever loved! She’s not dead but I can’t ever be with her again!
JEFF: Yeah, sucks to be you. Can we go now?
TOMMY: Not yet. Just let me look a little longer.
JEFF: Dude, we are so breaking up.

(They are about to leave when suddenly...can it be? The MISTY MYSTICAL HIGHLAND VOICES??? That can only mean one thing...)

LUNDIE: (entering:) Oi! Keep it down, some of us are trying to sleep.
FIONA: (entering:) TOMMY!
TOMMY: FIONA!

(TOMMY goes off with FIONA, Brigadoon dissappears back into the mists, JEFF is alone with his booze, as it was meant to be.)

JEFF: Wait...who's going to drive me home?

(Curtain.)

©2005 Musical Decomposition

The Lion King: Decomposed

The Lion King
Music by Elton John (and others)
Lyrics by Tim Rice (and others)
Book by Rodger Allers and Irene Mecchi (based on the screenplay by Irene Mecchi, Jonathan Roberts and Linda Woolvertoon)
Notes: I actually have never seen the staged version of "The Lion King", but I have seen the movie and clips on the Tony's. I'm pretty sure that's qualification enough. Anyway, even if I did see the show, I'm sure I could not have come up with anything other than what you are about to read.


ACT I:

RAFIKI: We’re gonna see lions, only in Kenya! (presents Baby Puppet Simba to Animal Puppet Chorus)

ANIMAL PUPPET CHORUS: Lions and tigers only in Kenya! (bow)

YOUNG SIMBA: We’re gonna see tigers

YOUNG NALA: Only in Kenya!

ZAZU: (rolling little birdy eyes) Lions and tigers only in Kenya!

SCAR: (schemes evilly, to hyena minions:) We’ve got Norway.

MUFASA: (falling off cliff:) Kenya!

YOUNG SIMBA: (running away, crying:) Oh, Kenya!

TIMON: Where the giraffes are...

PUMBA: And the zebra!


ACT II:

NALA: Kenya!

RAFIKI: Kenya!

GIANT DEAD MUFASA: Kenya!

SIMBA: (returning home:) Kenya!

SCAR: Kenya! (falls into pit of ravenous hyenas, dies)

SIMBA: (assuming his rightful place as king:) We’re goin’ to Kenya!

ANIMAL PUPPET CHORUS: KENYA BELIEVE IT!

2005 Tony Awards: Decomposed

Amanda takes on Antoinette Perry in a knock-down, drag-out recap. With special guest stars Dana and Jax. On with the show.

(Amanda sits perched in front of the TV with a laptop and a Lynchburg Lemonade, a.k.a. “snark juice. It is almost time for the show.)

Amanda: TonychatTonychat!
Dana: Dana's predictions: Play: “Doubt”; Musical: “Light in the Piazza” or “Spamalot”; Score: “Adam Guettel”; Book: Spamalot
Amanda: Amanda's predictions: I will get drunk and make out with my hand while I call him "James".
Dana: ITS STARTING!!!
Amanda: IT"S ON!

(Bernadette Peters opens the show. She has not aged or changed her hairstyle since the seventies)

Jax: BERNADETTE!!!
Dana: Dude where's her mike?
Amanda: Why is it that Bernadette Peters never ages?
Jax: Botox.
Dana: Where the hell did they hide her mike?

(Then comes the montage of all the year’s musicals...)

Amanda: Oh “Dracula”...that's it, start with all the crap shows.
Dana: “Brooklyn”...the little show where they wear lots of trashbags
Jax: No one liked Brooklyn but me, right?

(Chitty Chitty Bang Bang is briefly shown.)

Dana: Raul Esparza--one of the best actors with the lowest
self-esteem on Broadway.

(It is the only shot of Raul Esparza we will ever see this evening. Sigh. And then...)

Jax: BUNDITY!

(You see? I made it catch on. More musicals. Dancing, dancing, singing, singing, dancity-sing-sing-dance. “Good Vibrations”, “All Shook Up”...)

Amanda: Oh my God, so many of these shows look like they
suck!
Dana: It was not the best season, sadly.

(Finally, the show actually begins with the musicals that did get nominated.)

Dana: Yay “Spamalot”!
Amanda: YAY! “SPANALOT”!
Jax: “Spanalot” huh?
Amanda: You heard me.
Dana: Please tell me they're not cutting out musical numbers. They had better do numbers still. No damn medleys.
Jax: You're getting a medley right now.
Amanda: Oh, there ya go, D
Jax: “Light in the Pizza”
Amanda: Mmm, pizza
Dana: Ok can anyone else hear Josh Groban singing the songs from “Piazza”?
Jax: I LOVE NOBERT!!!! Oh, medley

(The shortest opening number in the history of ever ends.)

Amanda: And, that's it. Show's over.
Jax: We all win.
Dana: Everyone go home.

(And then the list of presenters is announced. Some of them deserve to be there. Many of them don’t. Apparently, if you were the star of your high school musical and had some notoriety, you get to present a Tony.)

Dana: I love Liev Schreiber. Don't know why. I just do
Jax: What the hell is Ethan Hawke doing at the Tony's?
Amanda: Oh God, for a minute, I thought she said "Christina Aguilera"
Jax: Oh Emmy Rossum: you suck.
Amanda: Sucks hardcore.
Dana: Oh God anorexic Emmy is presenting...there are more rpesenters than awards.
Amanda: And there are. like, 3 stage three shows amongst them all.
Dana: And why is Julia Stiles presenting?

(And our host for the evening...Billy Crystal? What the f***?)

Amanda: HEY! YOU'RE NOT HUGH JACKMAN!
Dana: Jeff Goldblum just got this look of panic.
Amanda: YOU'RE NOT TALL AND AUSTRALIAN!
Dana: Did anyone else see Jeff Goldblum's look of panic?
Amanda: GET OFF THE STAGE, YOU LITTLE POSER!
Jax: Yes.
Dana: Oh Oscar spoof. Piss off Broadway people. Nice.
Amanda: IF there is any Beyonce, I'm throwing out my TV.
Jax: Seriously.

(Hugh Jackman finally appears, via split screen)

Amanda: HUGH!
Dana: HUGH!
Jax: Huge Ackman is phoning it in.
Amanda: HUGHIEHUGHIEHUGH!
Jax: Sexy.
Amanda: And Harvey Firestein is very hairy.
Jax: Not sexy.
Dana: I'm sorry but I can't imagine Harvey Firestein doing “Fiddler”.
Amanda: That's the magic of Broadway, D...ooh, snap!
Dana: cattiness from Hugh Jackman
Amanda: ROWR!
Dana: The man looks good in a tux
Amanda: Let's take a moment to enjoy his prettiness.

(We take a moment to enjoy his prettiness, Billy Crystal will not go away.)

Amanda: Hugh, KICK HIS ASS!
Dana: Ha!
Amanda: DO IT!
Dana: WOW
Amanda: that man has the most beautiful cheek bones EVER.
Dana: Ok Billy Crystal: go. You are not hosting.
Amanda: GET HIM OFF THE STAGE!!!
Jax: Go away. Stop wasting my time.

(And then Billy makes a very surreal cut into the Best Performance By a Featured Actor In a Play.)

Amanda: WOW, that was quick.
Dana: He was presenting this? That was quite a transition...I love Liev Schreiber. He's supposed to be amazing.

(Liev Schrieber wins, as Dana had predicted)

Dana: Sweet!!!
Amanda: yay!
Jax: you love him...I don't know who he is.
Amanda: Dana gets the first gold star of the evening
Dana: Ding!
Amanda: Alan Alda looks like his smile might kill him.

(He thanks everyone in the cast, naming them off one by one...)

Dana: Did he say Fred Willard? Did he say the guy from Christopher Guest's movies?
Jax: Yes
Amanda: I would thank Fred Willard, even if he wasn't in my show.
Jax: He's talking for too long.
Dana: No he's not. He can talk as long as he wants
Amanda: BORING!
Dana: The man is a damn good actor. There's something so terribly appealing about a damn good actor.
Amanda: Yeah, but his speech was boring. Elaine Stritch didn't get to talk as long as she wanted.
Jax: And Stritchy is an old fierce bitch.
Amanda: I wish they would give Elaine Stritch five minutes to say whatever the hell she wants.
Jax: Everyday. On prime time tv
Amanda: Yes. “And now Five Minutes with Stritch, on CBS.”
Jax: And she'd be wearing a white man's dress shirt, black tights, and character shoes.
Dana: And you thought you would never watch CBS again after
"Everybody Loves Raymond" ended.

(Commercials. Dana gets really into the SAAB commercial.)

Dana: I'M FREE! I'M FREE!...Sorry. Couldn't help myself

(And we’re back. The overture from “Phantom of the Opera” frightens us all)

Dana: Do I detect Emmy Rossum?
Amanda: Oh no.
Jax: Please no.

(False alarm. Pretty pretty Hugh Jackman is back.)

Amanda: Oh Hugh, never leave the stage ever, ever.

(And then, what we were all waiting for: HUGH JACKMAN MUSICAL MONTAGE!)

Jax: I LOVE THIS SONG!
Dana: Oh my God
Amanda: Um, I want to see Wolverine do high kicks
Jax: I LOVE THAT HIS ACCENT GOES AWAY WHEN HE SINGS
Dana: He's doing a freaking oldies musical medley. I'm loving it.
Jax: This is brilliant
Dana: This is up there with Maureen McGovern's Rodgers and Hammerstein in 20 seconds.
Amanda: Hugh Jackman just sang “I Feel Pretty.” I think I can die now.
Dana: Shake those hips, Hugh.
Amanda: Oh yeah.
Jax: Don't shake anything, I'm too nervous.

(Then comes the booty shaking!)

Jax: Not the booty.
Amanda: Oh sweet Jesus
Dana: Woo!
Amanda: NOW I can die.
Jax: Yes
Dana: Let's face the music and dance!

(Still booty shaking...)

Jax: LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOVE HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGH
Amanda: GO HUGH! GO!
Jax: Oh, “Funny Girl”!
Amanda: Just dance, you handsome bastard!
Dana: WOOHOO
Jax: There is a God
Amanda: And he loves showtunes...ENCORE!
Dana: I LOVE IT!

(Suddenly, the camera cuts to...)

Dana: Dude is Tim Curry there with a chick? I thought his sexuality was questionable and unknown?
Amanda: I thought he lived with a dog?

(Now more awards: Julia Stiles and Larry, sorry Lawrence Fishbourne present the award for Best Performance by a Featured Actress in a Play.)

Jax: Julia Stiles? And Morpheus?
Amanda: MORPHEUS, STOP JUSTIFYING YOUR PRESCENCE!
Dana: OH I LOVE DANA IVEY
Jax: Dana Ivey: that's my pick.
Amanda: The black girl will win.

(Adriane Lenox, the black girl, does win)

Dana: You called it, La.
Jax: Black girl won.
Amanda: HA! I was right! “Doubt” is gonna cleanup
Dana: Her dress is awesome...she's giving shoutouts. The Tony's are wild y'all!
Jax: She's sassy.
Dana: MEMPHIS IS IN THE HOUSE!
Amanda: Holla!
Jax: She can't hold this and wash dishes too.
Dana: Remember that one. Thats one for the record books.
Amanda: So, her dead mama will have to do the dishes?

(Mario Cantone and Megan Mullaly present the award for Best Book.)

Amanda: Oh look, a gay man. See how many you can spot.
Jax: Best Book: whats your pick?
Dana: Spamalot.
Jax: Spamalot.
Amanda: SPAMALOT...OR THE CHICK!

(Rachel Shienken, the author of “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” wins.)

Dana: WOW
Amanda: HA! I WAS RIGHT!
Jax: I LOVE WHEN CHICKS WIN!
Dana: Okay, now I'm curious.
Jax: Me too
Dana: Have to add “25th Annual...” to the list of shows i must see
soon.

(Musical vamp, and there is John Lithgow...)

Dana: “Dirty Rotten Scoundrels”.
Amanda: Do I detect a musical number?
Dana: Yes i believe you do.
Jax: I love Norbert Butz.
Dana: Would you do him?
Jax: I want to norbert his butz.
Amanda: Heh, butz.
Dana.: Dude, I love David Yazbek. His scores are just FUN.
Amanda: Uh...is this the best musical number in the show?
Dana: I don't care, its fun.

(Norbert Leo Butz is still singing...and still awesome. The CBS censors are just about having anuerims.)

Jax: I'll make every night your bar mitzvah, baby.
Amanda: As long as you don't make everyday his bris.
Dana: Oh geez
Amanda: Whoah, what did they just edit?
Dana: Trying to figure it out.
Jax: I think he said a swear about sex.
Dana: Well yes. But which one is the question

(We never find out. Commercials!)

Amanda: SWEET BUNDITY IS NEXT!
Dana: I'm going to get a commercial drink. Mmm chocolate soymilk

(Dana lives life on the edge. Amanda still sips away at her snark juice. Jax has dirty dreams about Norbert Leo Butz. More commercials.)

Amanda: Top 100 movie quotes...I hope one of them is "I love lamp"

(And, we’re back!)

Amanda: GUYS! SWEET BUNDITY!

(Christina Applegate twirls around a lampost...and takes a tumble into the orchestra pit.)

Amanda: And...she died.
Jax: That was funny.... and stupid.
Dana: People were actually freaked. Come on.
Jax: Everyone looks shocked
Dana: You had to know she'd make fun of herself
Jax: I bet Jerry Mitchell wins for La Cage

(...and he does.)

Dana: you called it, Jax.
Jax: YES! I WIN!
Dana: Jax gets a gold star
Amanda: Well, if one of them was a black chick, I would have called it.

(And then, the dreaded “Music of the Night” theme plays. It’s Emmy Rossum, the human pipe cleaner, and she’s here to present Best Score.)

Amanda: Oh, here she comes.
Jax: Emmy
Amanda: Remember when she was all boobular in “Phantom”?
Dana: GET ANOREXIC EMMY OFF THE STAGE
Amanda: She shrunk!
Dana: You're not getting a role in NY, you hussy.
Amanda: Look into her eyes: nothing. Lights are one, no one’s home
Dana: She’s a stupid twit
Jax: She's like an unattractive Anne Hathaway
Amanda: and she mispronounced "Guettel"

(Adam Guettel wins! All legit singers across the world rejoice!)

Jax: YAY!
Dana: YES!!! GIVE ME ANOTEHR GOLD STAR
Amanda: YAY!
Jax: Me too!!!!
Dana: Dude I LOVE that cd
Amanda: Hey, [Guettel is] kinda hot.
Jax: I kinda want to sex Adam Guettel, too. Is he straight?
Amanda: Dunno. Let's do him and find out.
Dana: Yay grandpa! He cited grandpa.
Jax: Sure did.
Dana: He said "Rodgers and Hammerstein".
Amanda: Because his grandpa is RICHARD FREAKIN' RODGERS.

(Speaking of the grandson of RICHARD FREAKIN’ RODGERS, it’s now time for a musical number from “The Light In the Piazza”. Victoria Clark, put your mic down and take us home.)

Dana: Her mic's not working. That sucks.
Jax: Wait, her mic started working.
Amanda: Oh, there ya go.
Jax: I think she put it in her purse.
Dana: Probably.
Amanda: Yay Guettel! Bring back the sopranos!
Dana: Yeah, La, this is really up your alley. Its serious legit shit
Amanda: that is why I need to find Adam Guettel AND DO HIM
Jax: Except the boy...he's like....scoop tenor
Dana: The male role in the show could be played by Josh Groban
Amanda: Heh, I can see the statue's butt.
Jax: that was a really ugly vowel
Amanda: Dude, what kind of accents are they rockin'? Midwestern?
Jax: Weird.
Dana: North Carolina.
Jax: Bad.
Amanda: Oh, here comes the Hairspray kid

(Link from Hairspray catches Kelli O'Hara[NOT Erin Dilly. Thanks, D]’s hat, and they share meaningful glances.)

Amanda: MAKE OUT!
Jax: or not.

(Commercials.)

Amanda: You guys, maybe I should do a television show, then I can do all the Broadway I want.

(And...we’re back! Doris Roberts and Harry Smith wax theatrical. They share dirty jokes.)

Dana: DORIS!! She's great
Amanda: Love her
Jax: Same
Amanda: Ooh, sex jokes
Jax: Gross ones
Amanda: How randy...not even bleeped out.
Jax: She's drunk
Amanda: That's hardcore, CBS.
Dana: Nice

(Play Montage!)

Amanda: PLAYS!
Jax: was that Mary Louise Parker?
Dana: My aunt said that "12 Angry Men" was phenomenal.
Amanda: I can't believe that John C. Reilly played Stanley in “Streetcar”.
Dana: yeah that’s kind of random.

(C.J. and President Palmer present the award for Best Director of a Play.)

Amanda: DOUBT!
Jax: I'm going with 12 Angry Men.
Dana: I'm saying Joe Mantello.
Amanda: Why does Joe Mantello always look like he's drunk?

(Doubt wins...again.)

Amanda: Wow.
Jax: Dammit.
Amanda: Gold star for me!
Dana: "Oedipal revenge for the son of 2 actors to become a director"
Jax: hehehe

(Chita Rivera comes on stage, she looks about 60 going on 30.)

Jax: OH MY GOD CHITA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Dana: She’s like mid-70s isn't she?
Jax: She's terrifying.
Amanda: Ew, her face is so tight.

(Chita talks about two friends that she lost that year.)

Dana: Who? Who did Broadway lose?
Jax: Cy Coleman and Fred Ebb
Amanda: And no one else.
Dana: My T.V. kinda lost sound while she said it.
Jax: Yes mine too.
Amanda: they better give props to Arthur Miller
Jax: Seriously

(And finally, it’s time: “SWEET BUNDITY”! Hookers, I’m sorry “dance hall hostesses”, try to seduce the audience by screaming as loud as they can.)

Amanda: Um, you guys don't have to shout
Dana: Yeah.
Amanda: HEY! DO YOU WANNA DANCE?!?!
Dana: That was a real fast intro to that song
Jax: Yeah -- they had to speed it up for this I'm sure...where's Bundity?
Amanda: There she is

(Yes. Finally, there is La Applegate. The world says “meh.”)

Jax: she's no Shirley McLain
Dana: DID YOU HEAR COUNTING? SOMEONE WENT " 1 2 3 4"
Amanda: tempo, tempo
Jax: she's breathing in really weird places.
Dana: Our resident dance expert, what do you think so far?
Jax: It was me counting.
Amanda: Oh, Gwen Verdon is probably rolling in her grave
Jax: Not a real singer
Amanda: I just really want to pull her shoulders back. She's a slouchy dancer.
Dana: That was the shortest musical number ever
Jax: Yes
Amanda: And the crowd goes mild

(Commercials. Dana and Jax’s pets are asleep from the heat. Amanda’s dog keeps sitting on top of her and sniffing her butt. The snark juice is holding out well.

And, we’re back. It’s Kathleen Turner and Leiv Schreiber to get the new plays out of the way and onto the pretty, pretty musical numbers. They don’t even show clips: just pictures and sound clips. It’s pretty sad.)

Amanda: Are they doing the voices? Or is it the cast of "Spamalot" off in the wings with a mic?
Jax: Haha, yes that one La.
Amanda: Dude, why don't they just show the clips?
Dana: They’re skimpier with the plays every year
Amanda: It's not f***ing “A Star Is Born”!

(Leslie Uggams and James Earl Jones read the nominations for Best Featured Actress in a Musical. Leslie Uggams makes “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” sound majestic.)

Dana: She's making James Earl Jones read the nominations...love Joanna Gleason.
Jax: yes
Amanda: CHITTY CHITTY BANG BANG!
Dana: I LOVE DIVA'S LAMENT
Amanda: Go Sara!
Jax: Joanna will win

(No she won’t. Sara Ramirez does. She almost tumbles out of her own dress to get to the stage.)

Amanda: YAY!
Jax: Dammit
Dana: Pull up the tube top honey.
Amanda: Ha! she totally just adjusted herself
Dana: And hacked into the mike
Amanda: She's pulling all the right moves
Jax: that's what I will do when I win my first Tony: I will yank up my tits so they don't fall out on CBS.
Amanda: Oh man, she did not just say "keeping it real"
Jax: She said, "I miss you guys": why?
Dana: She said she missed the cast
Amanda: Dude, they're right there!

(Sara leaves with her dignity intact.)

Amanda: And, she was in “Dance of the Vampires”!

(Well, almost.

Anne Hathaway helps present the Best Featured Actor in a Musical with Monk.)

Dana: Anne and Emmy in the same room: thats insane
Amanda: notice how you never see Anne and Emmy together at the same time, though

(The nominees flash by on the screen, including Link.)

Jax: Ooh that one! The hot one!

(Daniel Fogley wins.)

Jax: Oh no...the ugly one.
Dana: This was his DEBUT??? His BROADWAY DEBUT AND HE WON A TONY???
Amanda: This sounds like my kind of show.
Dana: It definitely is I'm sure La.
Jax: Hehehe
Dana: I wouldn't mind seeing it either
Amanda: I like him!
Dana: Yay for him
Amanda: Yay!

(Daniel Fogarty is awesome. And now it’s time for “La Cage Aux Folles”, starring Robert Goulet!)

Amanda: GOO-lay!
Dana: Its “La Cage” folks
Jax: YAY!
Amanda: That guy's soprano is better than mine
Dana: Yay Gary Beach!

(The Cagelles, dance like whoa and scream at the top of their registers.)

Jax: Those boys are amazing.
Amanda: Get it girls!
Jax: And those boys dance better than any girl I've ever seen
Dana: Yeah seriously
Amanda: It's very Moulin Rouge
Jax: They're all so pretty
Dana: Did you see them all do splits?
Amanda: Whoa, in heels even!
Jax: Its like 15 Matt Gose's
Dana: Wow
Amanda: It kind of makes me wish I had showered today

(More commercials. Amanda goes to get more snark juice.

Back to the Tony’s: the triumphant return of “Avenue Q” and the two most boring people in the room.)

Dana: AVENUE Q
Jax: AW!!!
Amanda: I'm so glad it's just not the old folks...damn, these two are boring
Dana: “The internet is for porn and theatre”
Jax: Brilliant
Dana: I'm adding that for an away message
Amanda: no wonder [those old folks] are in The American Theatre Wing, they can't act.

(Sally Field comes onstage to kiss Edward Albee’s ass.)

Amanda: Edward Albee: way to not die. Congratulations, you outlived Arthur Miller.
Dana: Wow
Amanda: and where is the shout out to Arthur Miller???

(And, thankfully, Hugh Jackman comes out.)

Amanda: Hugh, it's been a long night...just take your shirt off

(Nathan Lane comes on stage to do his contractual Tony appearance.)

Jax: Oh Nathan Lane.....
Amanda: Trying to be topical
Dana: Everyone has that "well this is awkward" look and laugh going
Amanda: Y'all, these are actors, they don't follow the news!

(The nominees for Best Special Theatrical Event are announced.)

Amanda: Oh please let it be Laugh Whore!

(It’s not.)

Amanda: Damnit
Jax: I knew it would be Billy Crystal
Amanda: I think Jesus should have a one-man show on Broadway
Dana: that would be sweet: "Jesus: the Resurrection Tour"

(Billy Crystal takes his sweet old time. The orchestra doesn’t dare touch him.)

Amanda: maybe Hugh Jackman could come on and interrupt him? And take his shirt off?

(Kate Burton announces the Best Regional Theatre Award: The Theatre de le Blah-Blah-Frenchword.)

Amanda: Yay Kate "my Dad was famous" Burton
Dana: I still wish i could've seen her in "Hedda Gabler"
Amanda: “The Theatr-who-what-now”?
Dana: Its French physical comedy. Kinda like a hybrid i think of regular theatre with commedia dell'arte
Amanda: Oh. Maybe I should cut back on the snark juice.
Dana: Umm yeah. Just a little

(Commercials.)

Dana: OK do you guys have the Premarin commercial on right now? "If you have a uterus, premarin may increase the risk of uterine cancer" If you are going through menopause you have a uterus.
Jax: Obviously
Amanda: Really? I thought menopause was when your uterus jumped out of your body?

(Matthew Broderick starts poking fun at the nominees for Best Director of a Musical.)

Dana: Lets make all the directors feel inadequate Matthew
Amanda: Yeah, like theatre people aren't insecure enough
Dana: James Lapine is awesome...Mike Nichols is awesome
Jax: I want Mike Nichols

(It is Mike Nichols.)

Dana: You got it Jax
Amanda: Surprise
Jax: YAY! Gold star #3.
Amanda: I think Mike Nichols has too many awards now...he's gotta cut back.
Jax: Cheer up...life isn't everything. Brilliant
Amanda: Heh, he's been involved with Monty Python too long
Dana: Wait wait...is Eric Idle wearing tiger stripes?
Amanda: Is it so wrong that I love Eric Idle's tux?

(The Best Revival of a Musical, presented by...)

Amanda: it's Felicity and Ducky
Jax: HAHA
Amanda: together at last

(Gee, I wonder who will win?)

Jax: La Cage
Amanda: La Cage
Dana: La Cage

(...”La Cage”.)

Jax: YAY!
Dana: Gold star for us all
Amanda: Oh, big surprise...I mean, the big competition was Sweet Bundity

(It’s now time for “The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee”)

Amanda: Heh, this show looks awesome
Jax: Those real life spelling bees crack me up

(And suddenly...)

Amanda: ...wow.
Dana: WHAT?
Jax: Why is Al Sharpton on stage?

(The gals are won over by “Spelling Bee”’s charms.)

Amanda: This is awesome!
Dana: I WANT TO SEE THIS! OH MY GOD I WANT TO SEE THIS!
Amanda: ME TOO!
Jax: Why Al Sharpton?
Amanda: SHUT UP, IT'S AWESOME


(Commercials.)

Jax: Sigh...
Dana: Why are you sighing J-dawg?
Jax: I'm really tired. When are they done?
Amanda: Jackie, are you going to act like this when you
actually do go to the Tony’s?
Jax: Yes. I'm going to get all dressed up, and then get very sleepy, and then hike up my tits, and then I'm going to pass out in my chair.

(IDINA!)

Dana: IDINA! IDINA!
Jax: I LOVE HER! I LOVE HER!

(Idina is there to announce the technical award winners which were announced earlier that evening. It’s even sadder than the Oscars when they made the technical nominees parade out onstage.)

Amanda: Yay, Guettel!
Dana: Well deserved for orchestrations
Amanda: Yay lighting!
Dana: Well that makes sense--”Light in the Piazza” got best lighting
Jax: Brilliant
Amanda: Yay costumes!
Dana: Wow “Piazza”'s cleaning up
Amanda: Hell yeah
Dana: This is definitely not a “Producers” year
Amanda: Seriously

(Joan Allen arrives...only to be attacked by black beads.)

Amanda: Whoa, Joan Allen has too many necklaces
Dana: Yeah she does.
Jax: they are holding up her neck
Dana: Okay, this is tough, but i'm gonna have to go with “12 Angry Men”
Jax: 12 Angries

(But, it’s not “12 Angry Men”. It’s “Glengarry Glen Ross”. The producer has a stupid little red tie. The snark juice takes its toll.)

Amanda: WHAT?! That is BULLSHIT! “12 Angry Men” went into seven extensions! What the F***?!
Jax: I know man. “12 Angries” it what I wanted too
Amanda: Oh shut up Colonnel Sanders JR.
Dana: oh not Fred Willard. “Fred Weller.”
Amanda: Wah! That just makes me hate that guy even more.

(Laura Linney comes onstage, and Arthur Miller FINALLY gets his props.)

Amanda: Oh, THANK GOD: here's the Arthur Miller shout-out
Dana: RIP Arthur Miller
Amanda: Dude, Laura Linney is not blinkihng

(Oh, but Arthur is not the only one who died this year.)

Amanda: DEATH MONTAGE! Aw, John Raitt
Dana: Jerry Orbach
Jax: Oh Jerry

(And then, as we are honoring those we had lost in reverence...Jesse L. Martin comes out to sing “Razzle Dazzle”. Huh?)

Amanda: Okay, this is kind of tasteless
Dana: Its Broadway
Amanda: Isn't a moment of silence usually the norm?
Dana: you know Jerry Orbach's loving it
Jax: Seriously
Dana: Jesse Martin worked with Jerry, so its not tasteless at all
Amanda: Well, I just talked to Jerry Orbach, and he said he would have preferred a moment of silence
Jax: Nah, he wanted “Lullaby of Broadway” sung by everyone in the auditorium
Dana: Dude that would've been sweet
Jax: Yes
Dana: Can you imagine
Jax: That's what Jerry wanted
Amanda: When I die, I want my picture to appear while "Ah! Sweet Mystery of Life at Last I've Found You" plays
Jax: Mmmokay
Dana: We will make sure that happens
Amanda: Sweet.

(Commercials.)

Amanda: Uh oh, Uncle Junior passed out from the Six Flags excitement.

(And, we’re back. And so is Hugh. Why do you keep going away, Hugh baby? Keep those sweet cheekbones onscreen where we can enjoy them. Anyway, Best Actor in a Play...)

Jax: CRUDUP! LOVE HIM
Amanda: Brian F. O'Byrne! Go Irishman!

(And the winner is...Bill Irwin?!)

Amanda: DAMNIT!
Dana: Bill irwin or what?
Amanda: Y'all, “Doubt” lost something!

(Alan Alda and Marcia Cross are onstage. It’s “Desperate Houswife” and “Desperately Clinging to Life”.)

Amanda: I can't decide who's skinnier.
Dana: Yeah really. And Alan Alda, that was tasteless
Amanda: Cherry Jones is gonna get it

(She does, after planting a big ol’ kiss on her girlfriend.)

Jax: DAMMIT! I wanted MLP.
Dana: Who won?
Amanda: The lesbian
Dana: “Doubt”?
Jax: Yes.
Dana: Ah.
Amanda: Yup.

(Finally, it’s...)

Jax: Oh “Spamalot”.
Dana: Love me some “Spamalot”.
Jax: Tim Curry is fat
Dana: He's getting up there man...ok does anyone else think this part is kinda “Rocky Horrorish”?
Jax: Maybe because its Tim Curry

(The number is kinda awesome, and Sara Ramirez has kind of become my new music theatre hero.

Commercials.)

Amanda: I NEED MORE SNARK JUICE!

(Angela Basset arrives with Etham Hawke)

Amanda: I saw his ass!

(It’s the award for Best Play.)

Dana: “Doubt”
Amanda: “Doubt”.
Jax: “Doubt”

(“Doubt”!)

Dana: Gold stars all around
Jax: YAY!
Amanda: Heh, [Adriane Lenox] just raised the roof

(Dan Patrick Shanley accepts his award.)

Amanda: Wow, that is not how I imagined his voice would sound

(And the lady producer makes her acceptance speech...and takes her sweet ass time.)

Jax: This is taking too long. I am fallig asleep
Dana: She's speaking really slowly
Amanda: SPEED IT UP!
Dana: They shut off the mic. They really shut off the mic.

(Sandra Oh presents with some guy whose name I should remember but obviously I haven’t invested it in my long-term memory.)

Dana: Sandra Oh is great
Amanda: But what is up with her hair?

(Thankfully, Hugh comes back on.)

Jax: YAY HUGH
Amanda: OH YEAH!
Dana: Why is he singing? I mean i don't have a problem with him singing, but why is he singing?
Jax: I FREAKING LOVE HIS VOICE
Dana: What was the reason they gave?
Jax: Honoring Sondheim for some shit?
Dana: Sweet
Amanda: He changed his suit, which means he had to have been shirtless at some point.
Jax: Hugh, quit being Wolverine and just sing to me on CBS right after “5 Minutes with Stritchy”.
Amanda: Wow, Hugh brought out his inner blackness

(Commercials.)

Amanda: I want to shag Hugh Jackman's cheekbones!

(It is way past Amanda’s bedtime.)

Dana: Wow...Harvey fierstein
Amanda: yeah...he's hairy

(The ladies make their Best Actress in a Musical picks)

Amanda: Uh...that woman! Victoria Clark!
Dana: Sutton where's your brother. we want him back!
Jax: It'll probably be freaking Sutton or Sheri.

(It’s that woman! Victoria Clark!)

Dana: SHIT
Jax: Yay La
Amanda: Gold star for me!
Jax: It was not freaking Sutton or Sheri...her dress looks bad on her.
Amanda: Her hair looks fab, though

(She thanks her son.)

Dana: Aww...what a cute kid
Jax: Cute

(She thanks her costars.)

Amanda: Whoa, Kelly O'Hara looks scary up close.

(She thanks more people, and then she leaves.)

Dana: BERNADETTE!
Jax: I LOVE HER TOO! She was my first Music Theatre idol
Amanda: Mine too...but why that dress?
Jax: ‘Cause she's hot and she can wear anything.
Dana: Agreed
Amanda: Touche
Dana: And the hair will never change.

(Best Actor in a Musical:)

Dana: My name is Lancelot...I'm big and strong and hot
Jax: I REALLY LOVE HIM
Amanda: Butz!
Dana: I give up. I’m not guessing. I don't know.
Amanda: Gotta be Butz!

(And it is Butz! Jax is probably throwing her bra at the TV by now.)

Amanda: Butz!!! YES!
Dana: OH MY GOD
Amanda: BUTZ!!!
Jax: I WON I WON!
Dana: HE FREAKING WON OVER JOHN LITHGOW AND TIM CURRY! HOLY SHIT!
Jax: I WON I WON!!!!!
Dana: THAT'S A FEAT!
Amanda: YEAH!
Jax: Today is definately his Bar Mitzvah
Amanda: He's adorable
Dana: Aww
Jax: I LOVE HIM

(Commercials.)

Amanda: Wow, SAAB really love Butz...Hehe, BUTZ!
Dana: I'M FREE! I'M FREE!
Amanda: BUTZ LOVE!
Jax: HAHA!
Dana: I cannot believe that “Two and a Half Men” has lasted as long as it has
Amanda: Cryer must give amazing head, because the person he's blowing to keep the show on is LOVIN’ IT!


(And we’re back, again, for the last time.)

Amanda: Okay, one more to go...one more to go.
Dana: The big one kids.
Jax: I'm walking on air.... my adorable little Jew won!!!
Dana: Dude “Piazza”'s gonna sell out now.
Amanda: Spam or Pizza...which is more delicious?
Dana: Dude don't make me hungry
Amanda: I still think Alan Rickman should have won...something.

(And the winner is...SPAMALOT! SPAMALOTSPAMALOTSPAMALOT!)

Dana: WHAT?
Jax: YAY!!!
Dana: Whoa.
Jax: At least it was funny!!!
Dana: Considering the rest of the night THAT is a surprise.
Amanda: Well, there ya go...and I still love that tux.

(Instead the enjoy an exceptence speech from Eric Idle, though, we have to sit through the babbling of...another freakin’ producer.)

Dana: Eric idle really just like bowed. Deeply.
Amanda: Ick, I hate it when producers talk You are the money! Shut it!
Dana: Yeah why is the creator not talking?

(And the orchestra cuts off the speeches, because only Hollywood award shows have enough clout to run over time.)

Amanda: We speed though the night's biggest award
because we have to get to the local news, and Hugh Jackman was only shirtless off-camera. Everyone loses. Except Spamalot
Dana: That's all folks

(Curtain.)

Les Miserables: Decomposed

Les Miserables
by Claude-Michel Schoenberg and Alain Boubil
parody based on the Broadway production (1999)
Notes: Schoenberg and Boubil were two crazy bastards to think that Victor Hugo's gigantic epic of death and morality would be a great basis for a musical. Cameron Mackintosh was an even crazier bastard to think that English-speaking audiences would dig it. Against all odds and reason, though, it worked. "Les Miserables" is here to stay. Take that, CATS!
I do love the show. I have to. If I didn't love it, I'd be tarred, feathered, and excomunicated from the American theatrical community. So please, spare me the hate mail.
Sit back, relax, and enjoy my attempt at condensing a mammoth show based on a mammoth book.

DIGNE, FRANCE 1815

(A MISERABLE prison full of MISERABLE prisoners who work as a MISERABLE chain gang.)

PRISONERS: Dieu! We are so miserable. Such is life, no?

(And then INSPECTOR JAVERT enters, and he is “le bitch”.)

JAVERT: Bring me Prisoner 24601... (reads from scroll) “Valjean, Je...” Whoah.
VALJEAN: What is it?
JAVERT: Your parents named you “Jean Valjean”? No wonder you ended up in jail.
VALJEAN: Tell me about it.
JAVERT: Anyway, you’ve served your sentence. Your a free man...except for the part where you have to present this ticket wherever you go to let everyone know you’re an ex-con. Have fun trying to make an honest living.
VALJEAN: DUDE, THIS IS SO NOT FAIR!
JAVERT: It’s more than you deserve, you foul, murdering, rapist...
VALJEAN: I stole a loaf of bread!
JAVERT: Just stay out of trouble. I’LL BE WATCHING YOU!
VALJEAN: Oh yeah? Well then, watch my French ass as it disappears over the horizon. I’m outta here!
PRISONERS: SO MISERABLE!

(VALJEAN tries to make it in the world; for some reason no one wants to hire a convicted criminal.)

VALJEAN: But, I’m a hard worker! I’m strong, fit...
FARM OWNER: I don’t hire no criminals! I runs a clean bizness here! Get offa my property!
VALJEAN: (grumble, grumble, toil, grumble, suffering, grumble.)
FARM OWNER: AND KEEP OUT THE HELL OUT!

(Life: she is a thoughtless bitch, no?

Things get worse for VALJEAN, but then a kindly BISHOP takes pity on him.)

BISHOP: I will give you supper and then you can spend the night here.
VALJEAN: SCORE!
BISHOP: While you finish eating, I’m gonna turn in. Do you mind putting away the lovely, expensive silver dishes away?
VALJEAN: Um...sure...no problem...I’ll just put them away...and I’m totally not going to jack them in the middle of the night.

(VALJEAN totally jacks the dishes in the middle of the night. He exits the BISHOP’s house with the stealth of a cat...who’s tail is on fire. He’s not very quiet, and he is nabbed. The jig, she is up. C’est la vie.)

SOME TOWNSPERSON: Oi, Bishop! We found this bearded guy running off with your silver plates.
ANOTHER TOWNSPERSON: He said you gave them to him as a gift.
BISHOP: Well, I’m afraid this man is lying...
TOWNSPEOPLE: HA!
BISHOP: ...because I also gave him these silver candlesticks, but he must have forgotten them in his haste.
TOWNSPEOPLE: ...Oh.
BISHOP: Thanks for your help, anyway. Bless you all and stuff.

(exeunt TOWNSPEOPLE.)

BISHOP: Well, son, seems like I just served you a heaping spoonful of humility.
VALJEAN: Tastes like...burning.
BISHOP: Damn right. Well, you know what to do now. My work here is done. BISHOPMAN, AWAY!

(BISHOPMAN flies away. We never see him again, but rest assured that if ever a citizen is in need of moral guidance, BISHOPMAN will be there.)

VALJEAN: Holy cripe! What kind of man have I turned into? I’ve got toturn my life around. I’m going to become a better man...BY BREAKING PAROLE!

(Makes sense. In some countries...France being one of them. I guess.

Anyway, we flash forward a couple years later to another town Americans have never heard of. The poor whine and complain and kvetch, and I’m guessing that these are “Les Miserables”?)

1823, MONTREUIL-SUR-MER

LES MISERABLES: We’re poor! We’re cold! It sucks to be us!

(But the cries of the downtrodden go unheard by Cameron Mackintosh, who sits high above the world on a pile of cash and prostitutes. We move from “Les Miserables” to “Other Miserables”: A blonde factory worker named FANTINE is getting sexually harassed by the FOREMAN while her coworkers gossip about her. And I thought temping sucked. Rebuffed, the FOREMAN tosses a letter at FANTINE, which she reads eagerly.)

BITCHY COWORKER: Ooh, what’s in the letter, Fantine?
FANTINE: Piss off.
BITCHY COWORKER: Is it from a secret admirer?
FANTINE: I said, piss off.
BITCHY COWORKER: (reading:) “Dear Fantine, Your secret, illigitimate daughter is sick, so please send us more money to buy her ‘medicine’.”
FANTINE: Alright, bitch! NOW IT’S ON!

(FANTINE uncorks a bottle of Le Whoop-Ass. Catfight! The fight gets so out of hand that it attracts the attention of the factory’s owner...OH MY GOD, IT’S JEAN VALJEAN!)

VALJEAN: Break it up! Now, I want you all to settle down, because in addition to owning this factory I am also the mayor...just in case you all forgot. And since I am the owner of this factory and the mayor, I simply do not have time to sort this out myself. Oi, Foreman!
FOREMAN: Yo.
VALJEAN: You got any personal hang ups with either of these two ladies?
FOREMAN: None that I’ll admit.
VALJEAN: Sweet. Settle this fight for me. I’ve got to get back to owning the factory and being the mayor. (he leaves)
BITCHY COWORKER: Ooh! Mr. Foreman! Fantine started the fight! She got mad because I found out about the secret illigitimate child she has.
FANTINE: Man, you are an unbelievable bitch!
FOREMAN: FANTINE, YOU LYING, SNEAKING WHORE-STRUMPET! I FIRE YOU BECAUSE OF MY PERSON HANG-UPS!
FACTORY WORKERS: HA-HA!

(FANTINE forlornly exits the factory.)

FANTINE: Well, this roundly sucks. I don’t think things can get any worse.

(Oh, but this show has only just started, and the title isn’t “Les Cheerfuls”. Let the Shame Parade begin...)

WHORES: SEX! SEX FOR SALE! GET US WHILE WE’RE HO-, YOUN-, DISEASE-FR-, ALIVE!
A CREEPY OLD LADY: Ooh, me likey your locket!
FANTINE: SOLD!
WHORES: (cough, cough)...moneyforsex ...(cough)...becomeawhore...(cough).
ANOTHER CREEPY OLD LADY: Your hair is so pretty...
FANTINE: Um, thanks?
ANOTHER CREEPY OLD LADY: So pretty...so pretty...
FANTINE: Look, do you want to buy? Because you’re starting to freak me out.
ANOTHER CREEPY OLD LADY: Ten Francs?
FANTINE: Done and done.
WHORES: Uh, hello? Are you going to join us or not, because we might do better in a different location.
FANTINE: I have no daughter, no money, no locket, and no hair...you expect me to give up my dignity, too?

(Pause)

FANTINE: Oh, what the hell. Rouge me, girls.

(So, FANTINE becomes a whore. Insert your own joke about French whores here.

In the next scene, some RICH ASS checks out FANTINE.)

RICH ASS: Hey, baby! Looking for a good time?
FANTINE: Not with you, ass.
RICH ASS: But I’m willing to pay good money for some sucky-sucky!
FANTINE: I may be desperate, but even I have my limits.
RICH ASS: WHORE! I WANT SUCKY-SUCKY AND I WANT IT NOW!
FANTINE: GET OFF ME, ASS!

(FANTINE smacks him. The RICH ASS cries. JAVERT decides now would be a good time to get off his ass and mess up someone else’s life, so he comes back into the story.)

JAVERT: Okay, what seems to be the trouble around here?
RICH ASS: Inspector! I was just walking along not looking for sucky-sucky, when out of nowhere this whore attacks me!
JAVERT: Woo-hoo! Somebody to arrest! Now, come quiety, whore, or-
VALJEAN: (entering) What’s going on around here?
JAVERT: Oh, nothing, Mayor. Just arresting this whore who attacked this innocent rich ass.
FANTINE: WAH! I was a good girl before! And then a horrible, mean, no-good guy seduced me and left me preggers, so I gave my child away to some innkeeper and his wife, and I give them all the money I have, and then the world ignored my plight, and then I got fired, and then I sold everything I owned including myself, and now I’m going to lose my freedom because of a cold, unfeeling society refused to recognize my plight.

(FANTINE collapses under the weight of Victor Hugo’s allegory.)

VALJEAN: Oh no! We’ve got a sick whore on our hands! She needs to go to a hospital!
JAVERT: But...don’t I...don’t I get to arrest her?
VALJEAN: You: shut up. Hospital: NOW!

(FANTINE is carried off.)

JAVERT: (sulks) Don’t I get to arrest anyone today?
VALJEAN: (silence)

(And then...)

PANICKY TOWNSFOLK: RUN! RUN! RUNAWAY PLOTPOINT! EVERYONE RUN AS SLOW AS YOU CAN!

(A big-ass cart tumbles down the street...or so we’re told. Everyone runs in slow-motion until...)

VALJEAN: Oh no! Some Guy got run over by the cart!
TOWNSFOLK: OH NO! NOT SOME GUY!
VALJEAN: We’ve got to lift this massive, heavy cart and save him!

(Pause.)

VALJEAN: Will no one save this man?!

(Long pause; TOWNSFOLK look away and whistle.)

VALJEAN: Oh, FINE!

(VALJEAN lifts the heavy cart all by hisself.)

JAVERT: Damn. That’s hardcore.

(Finally, SOME GUY is pulled out from under the Cart of Doom.)

JAVERT: That was some pretty impressive lifting, Monsieur Madelaine.

(Pause)

JAVERT: ...Monsieur Madelaine?
VALJEAN: Oh right! That’s me! Why, thank you, Inspector. And that was some pretty impressive slow-motion running.
JAVERT: You know, I’ve only known one other man with that kind of strength. Have you ever heard of a man named Jean Valjean?
VALJEAN: (quickly) I ONLY STOLE A LOAF OF BREAD!
JAVERT: (confused look) ...Come again?
VALJEAN: I said “Valjean? I’m pretty sure he’s dead.”
JAVERT: Oh, no way. We arrested him yesterday.
VALJEAN: WHA-???
JAVERT: Of course, there is no actual evidence to convict him, but I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy. Anyway, his trial is today, in case you feel like stopping by and, I dunno, point and laugh, or something.
VALJEAN: Yeah. Sure. Sounds like fun.

(Exit Javert.)

VALJEAN: Oh crap. What do I do now? If I stay silent, an innocent man will go to jail. But, if I confess, everyone at my factory will be out of a job.
GOD: Yeah. I’m sure this has everything to do with keeping your workers happy and nothing to do with you going back to jail.
VALJEAN: Well, that is true, however-
GOD: Boy, don’t make me come down there.
VALJEAN: Okay, fine! I’m going already! Jesus Christ!
GOD: Don’t take my son’s name in vain.
VALJEAN: Jeezie-Creezie, I’m going.

(VALJEAN breaks into the courtroom amidst gasps and high notes.)

VALJEAN: Javert, you’re sending the wrong man to jail! I’m the man you seek: Jean Valjean, Prisoner 24601! (rips open shirt, and displays bad-ass prison tattoo.)
JAVERT: ...DAMNIT!

(In the confusion, VALJEAN escapes to the hospital where FANTINE is dying of Consumption, or Plot Contrivance, or something.)

FANTINE: Promise me you’ll take care of my daughter.
VALJEAN: Sure thing.
FANTINE: Do you want me to tell you what town she’s in?
VALJEAN: No, I’m pretty sure I can find it myself.
FANTINE: Well, do you want to know the name of the people who are looking after her?
VALJEAN: Nope. I’ll find them, somehow.
FANTINE: Do you at least want to know what she looks like?
VALJEAN: She’s blonde like you, right?
FANTINE: Acccckkk, death rattle, nnnnggghhh

(And the merciless “Les Miserables” has claimed its first victim. JAVERT enters.)

JAVERT: Ha! 24601, you will come with me now!
VALJEAN: Javert, wait! I know I broke the law and stuff, but you’ve got to give me time to help the illegitimate child of this poor woman who died before she could prove or disprove my story.

(Pause.)

VALJEAN: You’ve got to believe me!
JAVERT: You must think I have the mental capacity of a baguette! Nineteen more years of prison bitchery for you!
VALJEAN: Well, I could go with you, serve part of my sentence, and then escape when I fake my death during a complicated ship-bound rescue...or, I could beat the ever-loving snot out of you.

(VALJEAN beats the ever loving snot out of JAVERT and escapes.

MONTFURMEIL: the inn of the THENARDIERS who have been taking care of LITTLE COSSETTE. If by “taking care of” you mean “forcing unpaid labor upon”, that is.)

LITTLE COSSETTE: Oh, how I wish I could escape this awful place and go to a castle on a cloud where I could play with nice children and such. Le sigh.
MADAME THENARDIER: GO INTO THE WOODS AND GET ME SOME WATER!
LITTLE COSSETTE: Damn, you look like shit.
MADAME THENARDIER: Life is shit: inhale that slowly. WATER NOW!

(Poor LITTLE COSSETTE scampers into the dark, dark woods in search of water.

Meanwhile, back at the inn:)

MONSIEUR THENARDIER: Hi! I’m the Master of the House. Even though I rip people off and am twelve kinds of evil, everyone loves me!
PATRONS: We love you, Master of the House! Rip us off some more!
MONSIEUR THENARDIER: What can I say? I loves all the people.

(LITTLE COSSETTE meets a stranger in the woods)

LITTLE COSETTE: Hi. Who are you?
VALJEAN: I’m here to take you away with only the noblest of intentions.
LITTLE COSETTE: Oh. Okay.

(And LITTLE COSSETTE goes off with a stranger, which you should always do, especially if they have candy.)

VALJEAN: Good evening Monsier Thenardier. It’s nice to meet you. And where is Madame Thenardier?
MADAME THENARDIER: I am Madame Thenardier.
VALJEAN: Yikes.
MONSIEUR THENARDIER: What do you want?
VALJEAN: I’m here to take Cossette away.
MONSIEUR THENARDIER: Take away our baby?! NOOO!!! HOW WILL WE EVER REPLACE HER?!
VALJEAN: Will fifteen hundred franks fill the void?
MONSIEUR THENARDIER: Sure will! YOINK!
VALJEAN: Come, Cossette. Let us make a better life for ourselves...in Paris!

(PARIS, 1832, THE BETTER LIFE...which is full of beggars and hookers and appears to be made up entirely of broken furniture.

And just when you thought we didn’t have enough characters in the story: enter GAVROCHE, the precocious (annoying) Artful Dodger-type kid...also, EPONINE, the THENARDIERS’ teenage daughter who likes to run around the street in her underwear...also also ENJOLRAS and MARIUS who have nothing to do other than look pensive and handsome.)

MARIUS: Damn, am I ever pensive. And handsome.
ENJOLRAS: Any day now Lamarque will die and we will fight for our cause.
MARIUS: Wait, what’s our cause again?

(Suddenly, VALJEAN goes by with gown-up COSSETTE.)

COSSETTE: (sees Marius) Hey, who’s the pensive-looking hottie over there?
MARIUS: (sees Cossette) Whoah! Looks like God sent down a little peice of heaven on a doily!
EPONINE: (nervously) Where? All I see is a brunette hag with an old Irish tenor.
THENARDIER: (disguised as a begger, to VALJEAN) Hey, haven’t I seen you before?
VALJEAN: (sees JAVERT enter) Nope. Bye!

(VALJEAN grabs COSSETTE and leaves. MARIUS is smitten, and ENJOLRAS has to take over his “pensive duties”. EPONINE pines. JAVERT misses VALJEAN again, so he sings a song about stars.

Yes. Stars.

Monsieur Bad-Ass Mofo Inspector JAVERT likes stars.

Whatever.

Anyway, ENJOLRAS is holding a meeting with some STUDENTS. Wine flows like water while they talk about philosophy and stuff. This is what college kids did before keggers were invented.)

ENJOLRAS: The time will come soon when we will fight for our cause!
SOME STUDENT: Um, what is our cause, again?

(Pause)

GAVROCHE: (entering) You guys! Lamarque is dead!
STUDENTS: OH NO! ...who’s Lamarque?
ENJOLRAS: Okay, I’ve just come to an excutive decision: REVOLUTION!
STUDENTS: Dude! Isn’t that a little bit extreme?
ENJOLRAS: Hey, what else are we going to do in this show?

(Pause)

STUDENTS: REVOLUTION!

(So, ENJOLRAS and the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION march through the streets bringing their cause to the downtrodden. The downtrodden seem to dig it, but I have a feeling that they care about as much as those hippies who wore “Free Mumia” buttons back in the late nineties.

But I guess it’s the spirit that counts.

MARIUS, however, is still totally crushing on COSSETTE, and EPONINE agrees to take him to her house, because she is a moron.)

COSSETTE: (praying in a garden) Oh God,? I am totally crushing on this guy? I don’t know his name, but I saw him for a good thirty seconds? Will you please send “Monsieur Guy” to me?
MARIUS: (falling into garden over fence:) Oof!
COSSETTE: THANK YOU!

(MARIUS and COSSETTE pledge eternal love. EPONINE whines. Suddenly, stuff happens on the other side of the fence. THENARDIER apparently is no longer Master of the House, but the Master of Robbing Someone Else’s House.)

THENARDIER: (arriving with thugs) Hey guys! This is Jean Valjean’s house! Let’s rob him!
SOME THUG: And how exactly did you find out where he lived or even his real name when you saw him for, like, a minute?
THENARDIER: Look, do you want to rob this house tonight, or waste a musical number going through nine years of backstory?
SOME THUG: Touche. Hand me a crowbar.
EPONINE: Hey guys.
THENARDIER: AHHHHHH!!!! WHO THE HELL IS THAT?!?!
THUGS: Dude, calm down! It’s only your daughter.
THENARDIER: Oh. Right. I knew that. Eponine, Daddy’s “working” right now. Why don’t you run along, and I’ll buy you some fancy underwear or something.
EPONINE: Yeah. I think not.
THENARDIER: ...I beg your pardon?
EPONINE: Um...don’t rob the house, Dad.
THENARDIER: ...WHAT???
THUGS: OH NO SHE DI’N!

(THENARDIER and EPONINE squabble like two starved hyenas over a zebra carcass, and the THUGS appreciate the free show from a safe distance . Finally, EPONINE screams and THENARDIER and co. run away peeing their pants.)

THENARDIER: (running away, peeing his pants) YOUNG LADY, YOU ARE SO GROUNDED! JUST WAIT ‘TIL I GET HOME AND TELL YOUR MOTHER!

(VALJEAN, who must have been listening to books on tape for the past ten minutes, finally rushes out to see what the problem is, and MARIUS hides because he no longer has pensiveness to protect him. COSSETTE makes up some story about screaming when she saw robbers.)

JEAN VALJEAN: Why, it must have been Javert! Cossette, based on your story I’ve decided that we must leave the country tomorrow!
COSSETTE: SONOFABITCH!
JEAN VALJEAN: What was that?
COSSETTE: I said, “I’ll be ready in a stitch”.
MARIUS: (cries)
EPONINE: Oh no. She is. leaving. How sad.

(VALJEAN and COSSETTE pack musically. EPONINE pines musically. The THENARDIERS scheme musically. JAVERT decides to take a break from fugitive-hunting and go undercover as the world’s oldest revolutionary...musically. MARIUS can’t decide what to do.)

MARIUS: I don’t know what to do!
ENJOLRAS: Want to join in our vague cause and march towards certain doom?
MARIUS: ...Musically?
ENJOLRAS: Is there any other way?
MARIUS: I’m in!

(So, MARIUS joins ENJOLRAS and the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION. Musically. All this musicality builds into one big cathartic moment that’s so exciting no one can understand what the hell anyone is singing. Act I finally ends. Phew!)

ACT II:

ENJOLRAS: Okay, gang. Let’s nail a bunch of random shit together and build a barricade to fight for our cause!
SOME REVOLUTIONARY: What’s our cause, again?
ENJOLRAS: Just shut up and hand me that nightstand.

(EPONINE sneaks in wearing a clever disguise which consists of a coat and some trousers. MARIUS asks her to bring COSSETTE a message. EPONINE agrees, because she is a moron. She brings the note which is intercepted by VALJEAN. EPONINE walks home mournfully singing of her love for MARIUS in a way that all teenage girls identify with. Man, will they be surprised when they read the book and find out that EPONINE is actually a crazy whore.

Meanwhile, ENJOLRAS and the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION have made a rather slap-dash baricade out of furniture. Sure, it’s ugly, but it can fit itself together like a Transformer, which is kind of cool.)

VOICE OF FRENCH SOLDIER: Here’s the deal: give up now, and we won’t kill you as much.
ENJOLRAS: Rot in hell, ya cheese-eating Royalist monkeys!
VOICE OF FRENCH SOLDIER: Hate the game, man. Not the playa.

(Undecover JAVERT tries to give ENJOLRAS some bad advice, until GAVROCHE outs him as a police spy. They tie him up. EPONINE climbs right over the barricade in a shower of bullets.)

EPONINE: Hey Marius!
MARIUS: EPONINE! Did you give Cossette the note?
EPONINE: No, but I did give it to some old guy. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to take a nap (collapses).
MARIUS: OH MY GOD! WHAT’S ALL THAT RED STUFF ON YOU???
JAVERT: Get used to it. You’ll be seeing a lot more of it soon.

(EPONINE dies in MARIUS’ arms. She sacrificed her life, because love is stronger and more powerful than...because she is a moron. A few REVOLUTIONARIES carry her body offstage to make room for all the corpses that will litter the barricade later in the show. Then, somebody else decides it would be a good idea to climb the barricade: JEAN VALJEAN! That man is everywhere.)

VALJEAN: I know that I’m an old guy wearing a French soldier’s uniform, but I want you to let me help you.
ENJOLRAS: You mean like we almost let that tied-up guy over there help us?
VALJEAN: Javert?
JAVERT: Oh shit.
ENJOLRAS: Tell you what, Old Dude. You can kill the spy, if you want to be useful.

(ENJOLRAS and the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION stare upstage to give VALJEAN a little privacy with the old ball-and-chain.)

JAVERT: Well, this day just keeps getting better and better.
VALJEAN: Oh, shut up. You’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since the day I met you. (Cuts him free) Go take your upright obsessiveness somewhere else, ‘mkay?
JAVERT: Wait. Wait. You’re...you’re letting me go?
VALJEAN: Yup.
JAVERT: But...but...you’re supposed to kill me.
VALJEAN: Yeah, well, maybe tomorrow. Now get out of here.
JAVERT: ...buh?...whuh?
VALJEAN: What are you waiting for, an invitation? GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!

(And so he does. The CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION turn around like they didn’t hear that entire exchange.)

ENJOLRAS: Okay, gang. Enough revolution for today. Let’s get bombed and pass out.
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: Now, this is a cause I can understand!
MARIUS: What do I care about getting drunk or dying tomorrow. Cossette is gone, and even though I knew her for about five minutes, she was the best thing to ever happen to me. (cries, sleeps)
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: (get bombed, pass out)
VALJEAN: God?
GOD: ‘Sup?
VALJEAN: God, let me die tomorrow if someone has to die, but please let this Marius kid live because he is so young.
GOD: Just Marius? What about those other students?
VALJEAN: Um, no thanks. I’m good.
GOD: Really? Because they’re all young, and they all have parents who lo-
VALJEAN: UNLESS EVERYONE ON THE BARRICADE IS SEXING UP MY FAKE DAUGHTER, I ONLY WANT YOU TO SAVE MARIUS.
GOD: Ohhhhh. Okay.

(Morning rises. The CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION wake up: time for a fresh day of death!)

SOME REVOLUTIONARY: Um, Enjolras? We’re out of bullets?
ENJOLRAS: WHO FORGOT TO PACK THE EXTRA BULLETS?!?!
ANOTHER REVOLUTIONARY: I couldn’t fit them in with the merlot.
ENJOLRAS: Well, someone is going to have to go out there and get extra bullets.

(Long pause.)

CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: NOT IT!
ENJOLRAS: You guys, I’m never revolting with you again.
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: (hang heads)
GAVROCHE: I’ll get the bullets! I’m the precocious (annoying) kid, and we all know that kids never die in musicals!

(Except this one, because GAVROCHE is gunned down in about thirty seconds. It’s very sad...I guess?)

CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: OH MY GOD! DID YOU SEE THAT?! THEY JUST SHOT A LITTLE KID!!!
ENJOLRAS: Hey, I didn’t tell him to go! He wasn’t even supposed to be here.
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: SHOT HIM RIGHT THERE!!!
ENJOLRAS: Look, this is war. And if we aren’t willing to die for a cause...
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: Man, SCREW YOU, ENJOLRAS! We’re spoiled, rich students with nothing better to do than hang out on a pile of broken furniture and shit, and it isn’t fun anymore! WE DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT OUR FRIGGIN’ CAUSE IS!
ENJOLRAS: Well, it’s...it’s complicated...It has something to do with red...and black...
CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION: WE WANNA GO HOOOOOOOME!!!

(Then, all hell breaks loose. Bullets are flying, the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION drop like flies. ENJOLRAS gets so pissed off that he grabs the red revolution flag, stands on top of the barricade and waves it like mad.)

ENJOLRAS: HIT ME! HIT ME! HIT ME, YOU MOTHER@#$%ERS! HIT ME!
FRENCH ARMY: Uh, okay. (hit him)

(The music becomes full of dischord and cluster tones. In musical theatre this can only mean certain death. All the CHILDREN OF THE REVOLUTION die, especially ENJOLRAS, whose body splays symbolically across the red flag.

It seems like the revolution is on hold for now. C’est la vie.

But wait! MARIUS is only mostly dead, and VALJEAN is even less dead. He carries MARIUS into the sewer, as per standard medical procedure. JAVERT, who isn’t dead at all, goes after them. JAVERT may have some abandonment issues.

In the sewer, THENARDIER is pulling gold teeth out of a corpse. Remember: he’s a bad guy. Don’t love him, no matter how funny he may be. He comes across MARIUS, picks his pocket, recognizes an unconcious VALJEAN and runs away. I’m sure this won’t turn up as a plot point sometime later.

VALJEAN gets his beaten ass up, swings mostly-dead MARIUS over his shoulder, and keeps on plugging away. He climbs out of the sewer.)

VALJEAN: I made it! I’m home free! Nothing can stop me now.
JAVERT: Hi.
VALJEAN: DAMNIT!
JAVERT: I just wanted to...can we talk about what happened on the barricade back there?
VALJEAN: Now is not really a good time.
JAVERT: But you could have killed me and gotten rid of me forever. Why didn’t you?
VALJEAN: Why? Because it was the decent thing to do! It’s called mercy: look into it. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got to get this boy some help before he goes from mostly-dead to all-dead.
JAVERT: But I...
VALJEAN: DAMNIT, DO WE HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS EVERY TIME? I’M LEAVING, YOU’RE STAYING, I’LL BE BACK: GOT IT?
JAVERT: Okay.

(exit VALJEAN.

JAVERT talks a walk along the River Seine to ponder the night’s events.)

JAVERT: Hmmmm. Mercy. Mer-cy. Mmmuurrrrsssee. What is “mercy”? Can you eat it? Does it make a noise? Is mercy that little dent between your nose and lip? Does it smell? Where do you find it? Under rocks? In water? Is it in this river? (Jumps into the river) I guess not. AAAAAARRRRRglglglglgggglghhh....

(Poor misguided JAVERT and his out-of-date ponytail drown in the river. C’est la- oh, forget it.

Sometime later, MARIUS thinks about ENJOLRAS and the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION, before they got shot and killed and stuff. Damn. Recapping “Les Miserables” is depressing.)

MARIUS: Why am I still here when they are gone? Why? I have nothing.
COSSETTE: You’ve got me!
MARIUS: I wasted my life fighting for a cause that didn’t even exist.
COSSETTE: Oh, you’re just cranky because all your friends are dead.
MARIUS: And where the hell were you the entire time I was fighting?

(Pause.)

COSSETTE: (bats eyelashes)
MARIUS: Oh, I can’t stay mad at you for long. Let’s get married.
COSSETTE: YAY! I love you, Monsieur Guy!
MARIUS: Marius.
COSSETTE: ...Marius!

(COSSETTE floats offstage in the rosy glow of young love. Kids.

Enter VALJEAN.)

VALJEAN: Marius, I’m glad that you’re going to take care of my “daughter”. I’m going to go away for a long time...actually, I’m going away forever. Please don’t let Cossette know where I’ve gone.
MARIUS: Gee, why can’t you just stay with us and be happy?
VALJEAN: Because this is not that kind of musical.

(Flash-forward to MARIUS and COSSETTE’s wedding day. The THENARDIERS crash the party all pimped out.)

MARIUS: What the hell are you doing here?
THENARDIER: Can’t a man celebrate with two young people as they start their lives together?
MARIUS: (stares)
THENARDIER: Oh, who am I kidding? I’ve got some information on your father-in-law I’d like to sell you. He’s a murderer.
MARIUS: Sheah. Right.
THENARDIER: It’s true! I found him in the sewers with a dead guy the night of the poorly executed revolution. Look: here’s a ring that I “borrowed” off the body.
MARIUS: Wait a minute...that’s my ring! Do you know what this means?
THENARDIER: ...You’re actually a ghost?
MARIUS: Shut up. (Punches him) Come on, Cossette! We have to find your father.

(MARIUS leaves with COSSETTE in tow. The THENARDIERS gloat over their success.

The THENARDIERS are people of questionable morality, the world’s worst parents, and horrible dressers...and yet, they get away with everything scott free while everyone else died on a pile of broken furniture.

I don’t know. You tell me.

Meanwhile, in a little room somewhere, VALJEAN is going to die. We know he is going to die, because FANTINE has decided to make her first appearance since Act I.)

COSSETTE: (rushing on with MARIUS) Daddy!
VALJEAN: “Daughter”!
MARIUS: Oh, Monsieur! Forgive me! I did not know you were the one who saved me!
VALJEAN: That’s because I didn’t tell you.
MARIUS: I...oh yeah.
COSSETTE: Daddy! What happened to you? Why are you all stinky and wrinkly?
VALJEAN: Because I’m about to die. We all die at some point. Even you, someday, will die. Maybe not in this show, but perhaps in the sequel: Les Miserables 2: Still Miserables. Some of us die of old age, like me, some of us die on barricades, like Enjolras, and some of us die from whoring, like your mother.
COSSETTE: (stunned silence.)
VALJEAN: Whoops. That didn’t sound like the way I had planned.
DEAD FANTINE: Oh smooth move, boss. Now, it’s time to go.
VALJEAN: Anyway, Cossette, I left you a note explaining everything. Have a good life without me. It’s been real, yo.
COSSETTE: (cries)
VALJEAN: Monsieur Guy...
MARIUS: Marius.
VALJEAN: Marius. Take care of my fake daughter for me.
DEAD FANTINE: Come with me...Come with me...
VALJEAN: Damnit, woman! I am dying as fast as I can! Ease up.

(VALJEAN finally, finally, finally dies for real. DEAD EPONINE helps DEAD FANTINE bear his soul up to heaven with all the souls of the CHILDREN OF LES REVOLUTION and others. JAVERT is noticeably absent. The cast delivers the stirring, inspirational message of Victor Hugo’s masterpeice...)

LES DEAD: Life sucks, and then you die. The end! “Les Miserables”!

(Curtain.)