Scene 4.10 - Ze Palladium
INT. Lobby/House of Palladium Theatre
POV: THE BARON and SIMAK, shifting between them
(THE BARON enters, cleverly-disguised clones of VERNE offer the traditional welcomes, even if he's late. He is quickly led to the balcony and seated. It is raining outside. They're wet.)
THE BARON
(To HOUSE MANAGER:) Do not announce me. I'm late. Do not interrupt the act.
HOUSE MANGER
Of course not, Baron.
THE BARON
Mr. Simak will be joining me. Have a bottle of the best Scotch sent up with the appetizer tray. And a cool pitcher of water, please.
HOUSE MANAGER
Consider it done, Baron.
SIMAK
(On stairs, past opened "Reserved" velvet rope:) Does everyone here know you, sir? They sure got quiet in the lobby when you walked in.
THE BARON
Honestly? They're my clones. The camp, the soldiers, the townspeople. All of them.
SIMAK
Sir! There's lassies in the house!
THE BARON
Latent, transexual survival mechanisms. It's called the Orlando Syndrome. My mind couldn't handle being asexual in a quantum vacuum, so "somebody" created hundreds of hermaphrodite clones of me to tease me into seeking a higher reality or die of blue-balls trying not to be a closet-case. Crazy as it sounds, we're all part woman, somewhere.
SIMAK
Aye, sir, that one's got nice legs!
THE BARON
You're telling me. Her name's Constance, she's there with her bestest friends Bernadette and Rhonda.
SIMAK
(Exasperated to the matter-of-fact:) Aye, there's always a homely one now...
THE BARON
I know, a duck among the swans, but alone, they look more like doves. Butch doves. She's got big breasts, though -- you don't see her starved for attention, do you? Plus, the boys tell me she’ll pose nude for a song. All kinds of crazy stuff, you wouldn't believe it...
SIMAK
You don't say...
THE BARON
Now Louise over there is the real wonder. I've been tempted to look just to find-out, to really know, even though I really know, you know?
SIMAK
Oh, I know! I think she just blew me a kiss!
THE BARON
I think it's whore-moan supple-mints. Dunno... They're all coming to the party, one way or another. Maybe you could find out for me.
SIMAK
She looks much younger than you, sir.
THE BARON
She won't tell me the yoga posture that makes her hamstring look so delicate. Then again, I don't negotiate on that level. I'm a leader. Auto-eroticism isn't my forte.
SIMAK
Of course not, sir!
THE BARON
I'm far more interested in what's on the stage back there. I've never really seen the concubines, you know. Apparently, Verne’s been quite busy waking the ladies since he escaped- (Plays it off, fast:) Those dolls behind the curtain. I sure can’t wait to see them, can you? I'm quite anxious, alright.
SIMAK
Aye, you're in for a treat then! Ah! They've finally knocked off that squeeze-box racket and are getting down to the dirty business! Just listen to the music! It's gearing-up for a hoe-down!
THE BARON
I'll say. It looks like they've been waiting for us after all, I can see on the faces in the crowd that these guys haven't even seen a shoe come off!
SIMAK
Ah! I hear they don't take their shoes off!
THE BARON
(Points and touches nose and looks to stage and back to SIMAK:) Ah! Ah! Ah!
(Mild appplause as the accordian player takes a quick bow and exits stage right, then left, then right again. EMCEE quickly fills a gap and grabs the stage microphone, dropped from the grid above. There isn't one incident of heckling, so go figure. The crowd laughs and hoots lightly every now and then.)
EMCEE
Thank you! Thank you, Maestro Wigglebottom and his Velvet-lined Atrocity! I'm Oily Olly Olio your friendly emcee who just flew in from Ollyock, Ohio!
ALL
And boy, are my arms tired!
(Laughter only because the audience was in on it, not because it's new or anything.)
EMCEE
Now I'm as excited as you are about seeing some, leg, maybe more, (hoot) maybe a lot more, (howl) just hold onto your hats gentlemen, and you ladies hold onto your men, or they'll be storming the stage for what's coming up next. (Laughter, hoots and howls, almost as if it were canned, but not quite:) But first, ladies and germs, I would like to call your attention to the Royal Balcony, which has seated such greats as Catherine the First and Peter The Great of Russia, Empress Catherine the Second of Russia and Prince Otto Eduard Leopold Von Bismarck from Prussia. But now, it hosts our local governor, our liberator, our leader, our hope, Adolf Hitler's Key Advisor and Supreme Tactitian, The Twice-Exalted, Captain Julian Rodham Sickle, known to some formerly-rogue clones as Jules Rodham Tiberius Verne The One Seventeenth, known to all of Germany as the Vice-Chancellor of The Northern, Polish Territory and to The Universe simply as, The Baron!
(A deafening, standing ovation, like a canned State Of The Union Address. THE BARON stands, and otherwise, tries to appear humble. SIMAK stands and looks on, amazed at his charisma and power. We get juicy cut-aways throughout until THE BARON sits.)
CUT TO:
(The ladies are peeking from the wings, dressed in bulky, worker's-party overalls, gloves and hats and all.)
ROSE
It's The Baron!
DAISY
Where is he? He must be very handsome.
POPPY
I can't see! Move!
IRIS
I can't see, either, you move!
LILY
You ladies rip that curtain or miss our cue, we're all gonna take it out of your hide.
LOTUS
They called places for a reason, girls.
PIXIE
Has it occured to you that we're about to go on? Get away from that curtain and get your butts in place! Now!
ROSE
Geez! Don't have to yell at us.
DAISY
Touchy.
CUT TO:
(The applause dies down to one-half.)
HEINLEIN
(Seated forward, near aisle toward the wall:) You ever seen anything like this?
ASIMOV
Yiss, histewy wheels on early twenty-first centawee Pwisidints. They only get this crizzy when someone blows an eeweckshun.
HEINLEIN
A what?
ASIMOV
Eeweckshun, you know, like voting-boof eeweckshun.
HEINLEIN
Election.
ASIMOV
Blows an eeweckshun, that's what I said.
CUT TO:
(The applause dies to one-quarter and quickly winds down to a few sporadic claps.)
WELLS
Well, it seems that this Baron is the toast of the town.
CLARKE
I suggest we lay low and confront him after the show.
WELLS
Good thinking.
CUT TO: An interrupted, squinting, EMCEE noticing someone entering, looking past the spotlight on him
(The applause completely dies down, and before EMCEE can speak, everyone notices a clone of VERNE limping from the back of the house, down the middle aisle. One arm is tethered, as if injured, the other arm swings back and forth, limply in front of the man and he struggles to shuffle forward; his camera eye is similar to SIX OF NINE'S.)
SLAAG
Slawg!
MAN IN AUDIENCE
What?
SLAAG
(Drooling, injured and cybornetically patched with bio-nodes:) Slawg!
WELLS
(Moving:) Clarke, that man is injured!
CLARKE
Who are you, can you understand us?
SLAAG
Slawg!
CLARKE
Doctor?
WELLS
(Scanning with two thumb thimbles soldered together, making spacey sounds:) This man has third-degree burns over ninety-percent of his body. It's a wonder he's even alive. He must be in terrible pain.
CLARKE
What can you do for him, doctor?
WELLS
Put him out of his misery, I guess.
CLARKE
Euthanasia?
SLAAG
(Mechanical lens-eye quickly telescopes a little as it zooms in to WELLS:) Slawg?
WELLS
The shock alone should have done it already. (Prepares a needleless hypo, ironically tapping it to remove air bubbles from a lethal dose of something quick and painless to prevent giving his patient a painful heart seizure:) This won't kill him, but it will put him in dreamland for a great while. Perhaps the only merciful thing we can do, I can't even begin to clone a cell in this world of tuburculosis and toxic I-U-D's. Oh, I'd give anything to see the hospitals. Stitches and needles and sutures, cutting and sewing people like garments!
SLAAG
(Lest we forget:) Ba!
WELLS
(Attentive:) I can give you something for the pain, would you like something to stop the pain? (Levels hypo, holds SLAAG'S arm.) Now relax, Son, it's just like a long nap, except you'll never wake up to have to go to work ever a-
SLAAG
(Trying to form the words:) Bare-
WELLS
Bare-
CLARKE
The Baron?
SLAAG
Slawg!
THE BARON
Hello. Forgive my intrusion, I couldn't help but notice that this man has been through quite a travail and sits precariously at the brink of death. He's one of my men, I recognize him. If you will allow me, Dr. Wells, perhaps this doctor may provide some assistance.
WELLS
Well, if you're not the spitting-image of Verne I once knew on the Nightingale, I don't know who you are.
THE BARON
I'm a friend. Hold still. That's it. Easy. Easy, easy.
(A blue aura encomapsses the two and SLAAG transforms into a healthy, respectable-looking young man who is apparently in good humor and no worse for the wear. The bio nodes and eyepiece fall away. His clothes remain tattered.)
SLAAG
Oh! That is much better! (Shaking his hand with both of his.) Thank you, thank you!
THE BARON
You must be one of the stragglers from that previous time-rift, we're glad you're back. I barely escaped myself; I'm sorry I had to leave you. Most of you didn't-
SLAAG
Yes, I assimilated them, to survive. I'm Mr. Slaag, and it's great to be back, Baron.
EMCEE
Let's hear it for The Baron!
(A much shorter version of what we got before in the applause department, yet packing a harder punch, a few hollers --"Baron!" This time with only visual cutaways.)
THE BARON
Feel up to climbing some stairs? Come, sit with us, Mr. Slaag.
MR. SLAAG
My legs could run a Marathon! I would be honored, sir.
EMCEE
Who needs a clergy to spread the Gospel when the miracle is right before our own eyes! Let's hear it again for our Original, our Quantum Father: The Baron!
(Doc resets his jury-rigged, ancient-looking, needleless, futuristic hypo. Applause until THE BARON sits in the balcony near the stage. I forget my stagecraft -- whatever that little, opera booth is really called. You know, the one over the vomitorium. The place where many high-school Thespians lose their virginity and all that noise.)
EMCEE (Cont'd)
Now for what you have all been waiting for! Without furthur adieu, may I present the World Famous American Pussycat Players!
(They are at an Art-Deco factory. Reference: Metropolis. They sing a bluesy, brassy version of showtunes of the time, with a war-time harmony like an early rap homage to The Andrews Sisters. They wear German workers' party armbands. Make the striptease all sultry and such.)
ROSE
(Safety glasses:) Way back some time after World War One-
DAISY
(Gloves:) We stopped off on the way to Halceron-
LOTUS
(Hat:) We got blues in our blood and our game-face on-
DAHLIA
(Belt:) Hooked up with Hitler's number-one Bare-On!
SLOWER TEMPO
(Hoots and hollers are heard, the men are into it now. After the other girls join in, they all go from overalls to a khaki winter work uniform. The shoes and stockings stay on.)
ALL WOMEN ONSTAGE
Cuz a bare bear might care while our clothes are on,
But when he gets what he wants that grizzly's done-gone,
He hibernates and dates like he rates Don Juan,
But he masturbates and waits for the next put-on.
(Reactions. Obviously, they used a word in there that the crowd wasn’t used to hearing.)
UP TEMPO
POPPY
(Earrings:) I hear there's a gal that hails from Chanute-
PIXIE
(Bandana in back pocket:) She got whacked way back on Tellusian root-
LILY
(Unbuttons sleeves:) Got sent to a time when they wore a zoot-suit-
IRIS
(Unfastens pantlegs:) Waching Poles get trampled by a goose-steppin' boot-
(Everybody onstage starts stripping some more. They're in their slimmer, summer khaki work uniform. Still too much on their bodies for the excitement they are generating.)
SLOWER TEMPO
FEATHERS FALL FROM GRID
ALL WOMEN ONSTAGE
A loose goose might goose her if she's got a goose feather,
Who's to choose if you lose her just talkin' 'bout the weather,
Work an extra shift and tie split-shifts together,
Bring the bacon home and she'll be wearin' lace and leather.
(Incidentally, they are in leather corsets with lace fringe. It looks hauntingly familiar when suddenly we see why. Before the next verse, IRIS' red-laced fringe is ripped from her chest, revealing a silver pastie over her right nipple, thoroughly covering anything that would make it a nude shot, but as close to the infamous "wardrobe accident" as possible. Anyone onstage can be the culprit. Let IRIS choose. A blank stare from a silent crowd, a moment's pause, then a maddening roar of approval. The crowd goes bananas like the crowd-folk just ate a peanut-butter-and-testosterone sandwich. The grand drape is quickly drawn and a Der Intermizzion sign in all capital letters in Gothic script is placed before the proscenium curtain, which is now a target for popcorn, pretzels and the late-1930s-version of wadded, beer-soaked napkins.)
WELLS
(Standing ovation:) Now that puts every medical book on the subject to shame! Clarke, where are you going?
CLARKE
(Trying to get to the aisle:) I gotta go. I think it's coming out at both ends.
WELLS
(Still clapping:) Must have been those pre-show truffles. I told you they were rich.
CLARKE
(Leaning on seat-back:) I gotta go.
WELLS
(Still clapping:) Don't let me stop you, meet you in the lobby.
CUT TO:
ASIMOV
(Fists held together, close to heart, in love:) Now zat vas verth vaiting fir!
HEINLEIN
(Blowing two-handed kisses to the curtain:) Au naturale! Encore! Encore!
CUT TO:
SIMAK
Aye, I told you them lassies kept their shoes on!
THE BARON
Beautiful. Let's get to the lobby. We'll get first dibs on the truffles before anyone else touches them with their greasy, grimy hands. I know where their hands have been.
SIMAK
Aye, okay, whatever you say, sir. What about Mr. Slaag?
THE BARON
Hold the fort, ol' chap, okay?
MR. SLAAG
(Still clapping, can't take his eyes from the closed curtain.) No problemo.
THE BARON
(In the stairway:) Let's hurry. I think they've brought in that Pre-Columbian Blend.
SIMAK
Sir?
THE BARON
My botanical experiment. We sent some Crystal Ambrosia seeds back to the last Ice Age with a graft of Yog Soggoth. I've been working on a new strain of hydroponic pot.
SIMAK
Sir!
THE BARON
We grew 'em in Antartica, where there wasn't even a butterfly around to step-on. See? Front of the truffle line. I told you if we moved quick, the early-bird would, get, the worm- I seem to remember a crowded house, how come we're the only ones here?
SIMAK
Perhaps they're expecting the ladies to do another number.
THE BARON
It will take them more than fifteen minutes to come up with something to top that. Lubriesco!
HOUSE MANAGER
Yes, Baron!
THE BARON
Where's that stash of grass that I gave you last week? From the icehouse greenhouse?
HOUSE MANAGER
Why, we baked it sir, as you ordered us to.
THE BARON
Baked? (Menacing, spikey blue aura:) You got baked with my weed?
HOUSE MANAGER
No sir! I caught Smiley in the kitchen trying to roll a joint with it and I had him washing dishes on the spot! Nobody, and I mean nobody other than the pastry-chef has even touched your delectable dank, sir.
THE BARON
Deleckata- My what?
HOUSE MANAGER
Why, sir, your truffles, of course. And our vintage elderberry wine laced with T-H-C.
(Enter servants with trays of delectable, chocolate-covered bits of whipped bliss.)
THE BARON
Ah yes! Chocolate truffles loaded with my latest strain, carefully cultivated over many eons. I call it, Vernichelli!
HOUSE MANAGER
(Kisses fingertips and extends them:) Exquisite!
SIMAK
Nah, it sounds like a venereal disease, or a car made by drunken Sicilians.
THE BARON
(Offering a black cherry-topped one:) Try one, perhaps this may change your tone.
SIMAK
Mmmmm! That is the most delicious thing I've ever tasted!
THE BARON
Wait till it kicks-in. It's so loaded with T-H-C, you might as well be main-lining!
SIMAK
Mmmmm! Laced with absinthe, I taste a hint of it. Delicious!
THE BARON
See? I told you!
SIMAK
Can I have that one with the little apricot?
THE BARON
Sure, take your pick, but be decisive, cuz once word gets out, they go pretty fast.
SIMAK
That blueberry one lookes enticing. Hey, can I twist a J with all that shake there?
HOUSE MANAGER
Hmph! That's the garnish!
THE BARON
Do as ye will.
(A mob quickly enters; devouring the truffles. More are served, with drinks offered.)
SIMAK
(Licks paper:) You're right! These truffles are a hit! Quite some get-together, sir!
THE BARON
Wait until the party at the mansion! Lubriesco!
HOUSE MANAGER
(Fondling his long, thin, Dali-esque moustache, abruptly moves to THE BARON:) Sir!
THE BARON
Send eight-dozen, blue roses to the women backstage and invite them to my cast party at the mansion. See to it personally. Let them think I am not aware of any wardrobe mishap, and give them nothing but my highest praise... and the rest of these truffles.
HOUSE MANAGER
Yes, sir, but blue roses! I can aquire white or red or yellow, but blue? How?
THE BARON
(Gives off a blue aura:) Leave that to me. Get any color rose you can find. Eight dozen. Relax, Luby, they'll be blue by the time the girls receive them. Invite them. Don't take no for an answer. Do not fail me, Lieutenant Lubriesco!
HOUSE MANAGER
(Heels clack, salutes palm-forward, like the British:) Consider it done, sir!
(HOUSE MANAGER exits the lobby; to the house. I did mention that they're all Verne clones, right? It just doesn’t seem that way, tho... Maybe it was Luby’s corn-cob-all-up-inside, swishy gait that threw me off..)
THE BARON
(Snacking from his own tray of truffles.) It's so hard to find good help.
SIMAK
(Licking paper:) Tell me about it.
THE BARON
That reminds me; think you can find the crew in all this chaos and pass on my after-party invite? I’d like to see Dr. Wells and Mr. Clarke again, maybe invite them up to my press box for the second act.
SIMAK
Aye, I imagine I can do that, Baron.
THE BARON
Great. Mingle, have fun. (Lights a smoke.) I imagine intermission will go a little long. Mill about; you already know everyone, sorta. Meet you back upstairs for the finale.
SIMAK
Finale? There's only two acts?
THE BARON
Part of the tease. You just think you're full; like Chinese food. They leave you wanting more.
SIMAK
Aye, just like a lassie now.
THE BARON
Drink it in, and down, you're an honored guest. Have fun... Smokey.
SIMAK
Aye sir, I'll invite the whole crew, and-a I won't take-a no for an answer now!
THE BARON
Good, good. I have a motorcade waiting out back. I'm just over the hill.
SIMAK
Aw, you're not over the hill, sir, just a little more seasoned, that's all.
SOUND: Corny segue music
(Captain Nemo, is that you walking by a lobby mirror?)
CUT TO:
ASIMOV
They took all the triffles avay! I vahnted a triffle!
HEINLEIN
That's the trouble with truffles.
ASIMOV
Oh, it's no truffle at all if I get me hands on von!
WELLS
Well there you are, in the food line! I should have known!
HEINLEIN
Catch the last part of their act, Doctor?
WELLS
Boy howdy! There's just some things that over-pixelated, candid, glossy medical photos of three-headed livestock just can't replace, and one of those things is a live, Negro breast bouncing right before your eyes!
ASIMOV
Oy vey!
HEINLEIN
Uh, yeah. By Negro, do you mean black?
WELLS
Yes. Negro, negroid, colored.
HEINLEIN
(Never thought he'd ever hear it:) Colored!
WELLS
I'm sorry I sound like I'm wearing a sheet. It must be this era, it's coaxing me to conform to the limited, short-sighted, bigoted perspectives of this time-period.
HEINLEIN
Well, you better start unconforming it real quick or my hide ain't gonna be the only one "colored" in here.
WELLS
I don't know, it's just that I somehow feel inclined to act the fool, like a brogue, exasperated sidekick to a cocaine-addicted example of typical, limey, Victorian snobbery and sexual repression. See? There I go again, knocking the Brits this time.
HEINLEIN
That's not all the knocking that's going to be happenin' if you start up with all that Jim Crow talk again. This may be the Dark Ages and all, but you know better. Even whitey ain't too far off from being a spear-chucker in this age. In the future, our future, black is beautiful, and the rarest of all. We're prized as the most-select of all human breeding. I'm one in fifteen million. Iris is one in fifty million. On the market, we’re priceless. Don't ever forget that.
WELLS
I haven't forgotten, but I do believe getting out of this paradox and on to our next, future dilemma is in order. We need to get back to our real selves or we're lost.
HEINLEIN
You ain't lying. Weren't you with Clarke? Where is he?
WELLS
In the latrine. Those pre-show truffles didn't agree with him.
ASIMOV
He shid hivv given zem to me. I didn't git inny before ze show ease-her!
WELLS
Maybe I should go check on Clarke. He wasn't looking too good.
HEINLEIN
I'll tag along. From what you say, I'd be better off not eating 'em truffles.
ASIMOV
Thit's the tribble with triffles, you eat von an then you vant anuzzer, zen next thing you know you have eaten zem all and there is none of zem left for poor, hungry Asimov!
WELLS
Let's go. Come on, Isaac, maybe there's a snack machine in the hallway.
ASIMOV
I hip so, I got ze serious munchies!
HEINLEIN
What's wrong with Clarke, Doctor?
WELLS
I dunno, I thought it was gastro-intestinal, but he looked like he also had a fever.
ASIMOV
Vatever it izz, I hip it's nit kinn-tijus.
WELLS
Probably a bug he picked up on Tellusia and his body is just trying to flush it out.
CUT TO: