Faggos Pogo Stilt

(Four Forks Falling. It is the dawn of Bali. No one is inside. Drained from the summer heat. There brings the rain. The woman stands and watches the wheat. Waves her blade of grass and bleeds her feet. She is using the sickle to carve holes in the souls of her feet. The wheat turns gray. The sky begins to rustle banjos. Whimpering pickle of the times. The gray wheat sings tones of lunas. Four Forks Fall. Captured the vantiage point of lomos. There will be a party tonight. The womans feet bleed into her bushel of wheat as it sings. The blades bleat as the sky falls victim to the fork. When there was such an age.)

Pork is served. Wheat tables line the isles and the pork is served.

If there ever were such two boys they would have come from here. Torked with the monus of the sosorthn, minagling within itself. The west was won. With it brung the diet togune. silent but stillien. The morning still sweeps within, will for years, wilt took four years to garnish his sisters josh. Now there is nothing left in this town but wheat. Bring in the wheat.

Narator: Now there is nothing left in this town but wheat. Bring in the wheat (The woman who was cutting her feet begins to slide. Like a soldier without legs. She uses her arms. Her poor tired arms to drag herself around. ) Killip

Woman: and but for this exchange (The wind takes another partner. Droops the suns. Pastorient manjo. It begins the time of sidfult.)

No one will be left after we pour. Bring in the gray wheat. Bring in the tool shead. Bring your dead brothers; the ones without names.

Narrator: It's time to ring in the pork


It's time to ring in the pork


(Four Forks Falling. It is the dawn of Bali. No one is inside. Drained from the summer heat. There brings the rain. The woman stands and watches the wheat. Waves her blade of grass and bleeds her feet. She is using the sickle to carve holes in the souls of her feet. The wheat turns gray. The sky begins to rustle banjos. Whimpering pickle of the times. The gray wheat sings tones of lunas. Four Forks Fall. Captured the vantiage point of lomos. There will be a party tonight. The womans feet bleed into her bushel of wheat as it sings. The blades bleat as the sky falls victim to the fork. When there was such an age.)

Turbine Wharf There

alkg47://

woman in flowing dress sits on meadow overlooking rolling landscape. beautiful grasses descend into lush valley. sun illuminates her scene. clouds break up vast sky. she listens to the wind for answers. it blows. she bends.

narrator: and all the while they were waiting like insects gone dormant for the season. without course or cause, purity or fashion, ungated, thorough, down every branch in wonderment. from this they lost none, although within it, foundation. the rest came easily through repeated resistance, unbounced competings, case, or cabul, nor sure of who is in who's.

the wind: (whispers)

woman: (in her mind) i sing for you

narrator: an exchange

It takes, Part One Volume 12

It takes, Part One Volume 12

The old man and the lady are sitting in the front cab of a truck. The overhead light is on and they are searching the front of the cab for something. The front part of the cab is littered with dirty cups and wrappers. The CB crackles. They are shuffling through the debris when they both stop abruptly.

Franni: Did you hear that?
(They both stop and listen to the darkness. There is another thump)
Franni: Now don’t tell me that you didn’t hear that
Old Man: Oh I heard it quite clear my dear
(They both sit in stunned silence. The thumping comes again, this time is more thumping before)
Franni: Jesus Christ Tedd you are a god damn good for nothing son of a bitch, you know that? (She swings her arm at him, he ducks and misses it. She is still pissed) Well, for fuck sake, (she sits forward again) I should have known, god damnit, I should have known that you are a good for nothing son of a bitch with nothing to offer. (The thump again) GOOD GOD OF JESUS TEDD
Old Man: (Sits sideways) Now Franni, that ain’t fair! I gone done the best I could with the situation
Franni: You ain’t done no shit with no situation is what you done Teddy boy. (She starts to look through things again. Tedd sits straight and breaths) Well, christ, you moron help me, god damnit, I’m not doin’ your dirty work for you.
Old Man: (He starts to dig through the debris again) Oh, that Cheeto bag!
Franni: (Fuming) Oh that Cheeto- God bless ya Tedd, you help me find this- or so help me I will snap your little neck in half. (Keeps digging) it’s in here, right? (Tedd doesn’t answer) I’m talking to you moron
Old Man: HUH?
Franni: Don’t you dare Huh me sonny. I’ll wipe that shit grin off your face so fast you wont be able to breathe for a year. Now christ help me with this. It’s in here right? You put it in here
Old Man: I think I did
Franni: oh great, you think you put the rifle in the car but your not sure, which is fine because there is just wolves out in the woods tonight and we happen to have a half dead man in the god damn cabin of this hitch and you don’t know if you brought the damn rifle? Are you a god damn moron, is that what you are?
(The old man is silent, he stops digging)
so you are a blessed moron…I thought so. (The thumping starts again. She begins to dig through her purse) I have it in here somewhere (she pulls out a hand gun) my lovely. (Turns to Tedd) Kill him for real now, none of this half killing him and then leaving him in the woods to run home and identify our asses.
Old Man (He turns to her) I’m- (He hesitates) I really think- (He looks down)
Franni: I don’t give a shit about what you think, do it (handing him the gun)
Old Man: Fran, come on…isn’t it over yet? (Silence) I- (Looks at Fran) That’s my son
BEAT
BEAT
(Fran points the gun at his face, the Old Man turns to look out the window. She shoots him point blank in the cab of the truck. There is no emotion on her face. She sits straight after. The thumping begins again)

Eye Linda, Ghost Hooker

The old man stares out the dashboard

"Aint you seen that mobile?"

(the sheet)

"Aint your ghost ready?" Stares at the lobos "I hear them wolves a coming (wahoo); it's like that grand piana. It's like the Alabama 'why'."

She comes in on a gentry

"Well if it aint the sharif, it's the VD clinic." Does a number on the knees

"He again who has risen," (slowly rises, brittle, shaken, lowered like the lamb) "shall pent-a-cost at the Osco."

Rose petals fall from the ceiling. It is jaundice. It is white. The wipers are heard but the dash is but a farce.

"Well you comin' in?" he says
"I aint got the storage capacity for this ordeal...reflects poorly on the soul...It's not about the wheels, oh no Lord, we surely know it aint about them wheels. Them wheels are good and fine; I seen em' go around and around, kind of like one uh them beatles at the light. You know, at that parade down on Cherub by the forsythia. It's a locust brood, I think."

It's a whole bunch of cacklin'

"Yeowwwww," them wolves come a howlin' "Sooooeyyy. Yup. I knows a gal when I sees her. I can smell a situation cookin' like a can uh beans. Yessum. That's a lick."

The holwin' is a comin'. The lady enters the situation with the man. Life is a beast in the front seat. Lights dim. Couple of them stare out like it's dark. Like the fog got a cold. The two stares out eatin' jerky...the howls are a comin' the lights caving in.

And I guess but I Just Dont know

AND I GUESS BUT I JUST DONT KNOW

The guest of lightening is an old woman in her sixties. She is sitting on a lawn chair in the center of the stage. She has a large oversized cabana hat on which is a tropical green color. She is wearing a bathing suit and a drape around her shoulders. Her toes are painted and her big braceletts jingle as she speaks. She is drinking a matrini out of a large glass and chain smoking continuously throughout the scene.
Franni: Well of course i told him to stick it where the sun dont shine. I dont deal with imbicles anymore you know Nancy...i married four of them. Yeah, i know i know i know. Your god damn right about that. So? So i told him that if he wasnt going to give me a good price on the stupid thing, that i was just going to have to do it myself. Well didnt he just look at me and scoff. Yeah, thats when i smacked the crap out of him (Lights come up on Franni on the phone in her chair) well, for crying out loud Nancy it wasnt an attack, rather one of those, shit what do you call 'em? yeah awakenings. I was awakening his eyes to see that I am an older woman and I'm sure as hell not going to fix my own god damn water whatever it is. yeah, i know i know i know its his job...oh sure Frankie could do a better job of course Frankie could, ya know i dont doubt that for a moment. what I'm saying is there is no more justice in this world. yeah the world stinks. speaking of which, how is your son doing? (She gets another cigarette) rehab? agian? my godness what is with children these days. I can only pray that this center will find out what is wrong with him. or better they will get that bug out of his system...oh sure its a bug, just like the nasty old flu. kids are getting it worse and worse everyday...sure it is Nance...oh really?...thats what they are telling you? the bug got right to his head huh? oh their arnt telling you the truth...no, no, no i saw this specail on NOVA or something, yeah, about the kids with the damn bugs in their heads. so are you telling me that they get the bugs there from rehab? my god is there any safe place here these days. such a shame. such a damn shame. and billy too. he was a fine boy. (shaking her head. She stands and wanders the space still on the phone.) well i told you not to talk to her. so you will think about it next time wont you. yeah yeah i know what did she do to you? five hundred dollars! you've got to be kiddning? did you call the police? well you should have. christ i would have. can you believe it? yeah i know i know i know well Nance i did tell you didnt I? good god five hundred dollars. well thats a lesson well learned i guess you could say. how crazy is that? my god. Oh yeah yeah yeah i knew when she came over with those beedy eyes and strange mouth that there was something afoot. but i never thought that she would catch you of all people. oh i know if there was a way off this damn carnie ride i would be the first in line. oh come on Nance I'm not really talking about- no no no i mean there has to be something. for christ sake. (She sits back down the chair tips and she almost falls) god damn, oh shit. (she almost spills her drink) well the damn lawn chair is attacking me now. can you believe it? anywho what was i saying? i completely lost my thought all together. (she leans back to grab her drink but falls screaming backwards on her neck. She is dead. The cell phone is heard with the chatter.)

The Birth and Death of L. Ron C. Getty

The phone begins ringing again


C: Whose in earthly kindness could possibly be attempting to reach us here of all places?!
K: A smarge party?
C: erth gasco. Mobe over two-lilah, or else the gard is barley.
K: Pad be trim (with hands raised to sides, palms up, face uncertain) Bad be nigh. (stares to her side and begins filing her nails)

The phone continues to ring. The two men who had taken the coffins to front stage begin to take notice of the ringing. Meanwhile C has stilled, closed eyes and head begins to lower slowly. K continues filing her nails intently. The two men slowly rise and very slowly find their way to the coffins while feeling visibly outward and staring out toward the audience. When the two have finally reached the coffins they shall quickly pull C and K into their respective interiors and shut their lids. Violins shall rise to a tumult and quickly cease. In the aftermath of an airy rev erb, the phone shall continue to ring. The two men shall assume position aside the stage, the door shall open wide and bright--the phone shall now continue ringing at an audibly lower volume. A shadowed silhouette of a figure appears as if displaying something between his hands. From the light emerges a largely built male, with greased hair, and full blood red two-piece suit, red suede shoes. As he approaches the coffins slowly and in a zig-zagging fashion it becomes aware that he is displaying a sleek looking black cell phone along with his enormous smile and widened eyes. He shall bring himself between the two coffins stopping just afront them. The stage shall darken with this man in a spotlight. The coffins shall be lowered to the floor, the backdrop shall be changing to a dreary autumn afternoon, presumably it is raining, the leaves rustle, the black-clad mourners align the two coffins, the man in red assumes an air of utter solemnity and dire seriousness...he shall push the talk button.

MIR: (in a wispy romantic voice) Have we balding heat with me in here?

The throng of mourners suddenly emits a cacophonous fit of undulating sobs, their heads shall bob in their grief-stricken sorrows. MIR shall stare off into the distance, the phone lowered. While slowly raising the phone to his face again, the mourners' moans shall dull, the stagelight dimming...soon it is darkness, the wind blows a sussourant tune, the leaves still rustle, the rainfall softens, dull flickers of light portray the guest of lightning

crimean storefront [jailbait arisen]

l;adg92://

Phone stops ringing

C: when i'm like this, i see colors and shapes which only exist in my mind
K: how else can count, could they?
C: estranged, keep watching
K: waiting four scorn
C: to alleviate great press here. being cast aside in impressionable years
K: now, separate that world from this one. see?
C: distinguishable
K: word said
C: so...
K: distinguishable
C: yes, right?
K: not exactly
C: why, right?
K: first of all, when this address we crowd-
C: appearance...
K: sightly.
C: meaning, at least wash the dirt off your face
K: simply comb your hair, trim your nails precisely, carefully putting on a clean shirt
beat
C: i disagree
K: why?
C: well first of all, pretend like the precipice is not the who fret ready world left waiting
K: like a second chance
C: yes, but already in spirit, spent
K: well.
beat
C: well...
beat
beat
beat
C: at wharf?
K: well..
beat
beat

Croptop Rewards

(The stage goes black. A door opens in the rear. The light from beyond the door can be seen and nothing else on stage. The stage is dark and empty. The feeling of emptiness is felt as the light continues to peer into the space. Two coffins are wheeled into the space from through the open door and the light is blocked as they are dragged onto stage. It is an effort to pull them onto stage and the two characters who carry them are exhausted from it.They bring them onto stage without words and set them standing up. The door is left open as the two characters stand within the space watching the coffins. They go to stage right and sit down, they start picking at their hands and playing in the dirt, oblivious of the coffins. The tone of the cell phone is heard more clearly now. The tops of the coffins flap open and only the heads of the dead are in view. They are two girl twins who are badly decayed. They listen to the phone ring till they cant stand it any longer. Neather of them can move from the boxes)
K: aren’t you going to answer that?
C: what?
Beat
oh that? Pine trees only grow in one region
K: rather or isn’t it funny (laughs) isn’t it
Beat
K: aren’t you going to?
C: what? Take a drive (Laughs) I was thinking about it? beat
But its too late for that sort-
K: what sort of thing are you talking about? 1, 2, 3, 4 5 6 7 8 9 millimeters
I think we are 9 millimeters from home
C: aren’t you going to answer that? What? Whats that?
K: this is the new stuff (Laughs) abliveous as always
C: rather
K: you don’t know a hole from your own arsehole
C: I cant even see my own-
K: been years
C: months
Beat
Weeks maybe even days
K: clothing stores closed now
C: don’t worry there will be dancing later
Beat
Are you going to answer?
K: rather I thought this wasn’t the kind of place
C: anyplace
Beat
Where happen we be?
K: Target greatland I think
C: oh, that’s so wonderful
Beat
Think of the possibilities
K: I can taste them already
Can you?
C: I-
Beat
Do you hear something
K: nothing
C: a phone rigning?
Beat

Congratulations Katie (Them are twins)

The stage is dawn. It is early.

There is a carnival booth front and middle--encompassing the entire stage. There shall be colored triangles adorning the top of this booth there; in an arcing fashion. This booth shall be a tawdry yellow. Aback the booth shall be a clothy-wall. Just afront this clothy-wall shall face the audience consecutive horizontal rows of suspended stuffed animals. Prizes along the wall shall range from short and fancy to high and mighty--fresh stank of Salmon. Perhaps an Aleutian Island or a grass skirt. Either way, a young man with a limp, dressed in tight jeans, a white t-shirt, with a pack of cigarettes rolled in a sleeve (the right), greased hair, black tooth, partially shaven, eyes...he enters with an astute limp from stage left. The static has faded. The birds are chirping. Somewhere Idaho is cuddling its yarn.

carny: (turning to audience with a bit of a flare...though still obviously impinged by the limp. He lights a cigarette and stares meaningfully into center audience. He points. Head tilting back. he let's off and laughs with a drawl but spastically. Wiping something from the audience he points again and stares agressively but seriously) "I bet you thought I was a WASP?! I bet you did didn't yeah!?" (laughs uproariously again...managing to still smoke. Throws the cigarette down in a fit. Peers out again with a stolid menacing gaze.) "What I know is fierce. And I tell you all about me. Cause I--Cause I--(inhales deeply and passionately) Cause I got the cure. And that aint for sale. No! That aint for no sale." (continues laughing to self...after some seconds stops laughing and pulls a chair to the edge of his tent, picks up what appears to be a large picture, and stares briefly and sniffles briefly...before developing sniffles into longing sobs. He shall cuddle this picture.)

A scrim shall fall before this set.

The man shall be silhoutted in the near distance aback the scrim having now stilled.

From stage left shall enter two tawdry stage-hands who shall place a rickety lectern at a slight angle toward the audience...the static shall briefly arrive to be distinguished by an abrupt PA imbalance--a loud blip. A man with a large array of disorganized sheets of paper shall rush to the lectern to throw the sheets down and grab the microphone attached atop and amid the lectern. This shall throw the feedback to a slight imbalance...to be interrupted by his heavy breathing

He shall continue filing through his sheets, sweating profusely, breathing erratically. He shall wipe the brow atop his head. Ultimately he shall cower away after a brief spell taking his sheets with him. The scrim, having turned solid, shall rise. The lectern shall remain in it's place among other lecturns, manequins, knights...and what is presumably the same photograph is somewhat spotlighted stage center, face-down. The set shall have been replaced by an equipment supply room. Dimly lit.

Lost chalk of an American president: Over the PA shall play some form of archival business briefing...perhaps a stock overview etc...it shall be scratchy...it shall fade into a discourse between a man and a woman. a cell phone conversation? Static shall prevail. A door shall open in the rear.

tuladance

:Tuladance:

The signal has faded and the crackle morphs from a slow hum to a loud distortion of noise. The lights start to rise on dancers in flowing blue gowns. As the noise drones on the dancers start to come to life. They move slowly at first as if they have been frozen for years. As they begin to move more and more the movements become more violent. The movement begins to imitate the drones of the noise music. The drone music stops abruptly when LiL drops from a rope the dancers die. She walks the space and after a moment the dancers begin to rise again. She controls them with her fingers. The little boy wanders onto stage and the dancers freeze. LiL moves toward him.
LiL: May I help lep?
Little boy watches LiL but does not speak
LiL: I said was may I help without leprosy loprosket
Still the boy is silent
LiL: without a tongue is dangerous around here little boy
Little boy starts to play with something in his hand not listening to her.
LiL: best mind your mind you Mindy took offence once and never was again she never again listen up little boy I say mind your mind it because it wont just be my wrath you catch.
Little boy stops playing with the thing in his hand and stares at her then starts to walk away. The clouds turn gray and then there is loud rumbling noises the boy seems unfazed he continues to walk the space. The noises begin to get louder and louder as the dancers jump around the space. The dancers start to dance again in a harsh and violent way. They start to dance around the boy and then pick him up and throw him into the audience. After they toss him in the audience the dancers die and the only one left standing is LiL, she claps her hands and men in black cloths and black masks come and drag the dancers off the stage. The noise becomes very quiet and translucents into the crickets of the evening.
LiL exits.

chapter do

alkdg872://

crickets continue for another cycle

static spurts. half a moon. bits of barge. sound of a flower dropping

as lights fade up, a woman in a flowing sky blue gown is sitting up stage left. she looks out into audience. smiles.

lil: we've been waiting for you. it's been a long time...where you are from. (slightly laughing) but to us, we're just beginning. i wish to welcome you to hoshillin mispers, where things are what they seem and seem to be more than they are.

as she continues speaking, the words and ambient sounds become gradually digitally obscured - it becomes clear that her voice is coming from a recording. she continues to lip the words as they become more difficult to understand

lil: as far as i've come and as long as i've been here, there have been more bins where are her fair game put. call it an overuse of oh-nouns or sown chapps...i find myself furlong daily and gash upon gosh it makes me mess it a bit

signal faded

Red Badge of Porridge

The two continue talking as Pavlov into a breathable sweater. I believe their conversation should essentially devolve into utterances; syllabic flatulents perhaps of a pre-composed nature though devlolving into a faded darkness and then silence. However, the conversation I propose was sent in a lester cannister. It is as follows:

(mind you under guise of darkness now thou parts are cast in a jaundice colored spot focal. They are but alone in this sphere of luminescence but for the soothing sounds of what seem lapping waves against 2 foot thick steel)

mib: It wasn't a dream it was a flood.
old man: soldier? soldier? Are you soldering?
mib: Heaven crab ov. It's daily musings for the worcester. We were at corner up core, in v formations. (looks into the distance as if searching for a street address) The landus test was barren; all our parts were careful.
mib: And the heavens shone daintily inn.
old man: old where? It was how. When were we calling it then anyway? Last of the foremen was the pastor amid letty. Arguing forth and so again agnon angst is to her effing ham over hog.
mib: Older now
old man: Cow order
mib: I've seen you after me. What was before...

(quickly jumps down to face the earth with cuerpo port albo limbs--however, an eye creeps the trolley toward the labrador. It is he he seeks in curiosity;whom? the one that stands. With grin but sheepish and coy intently, mib then raises himself, turns his right ear (right body) toward the audience, and cups it with right hand and left hand forming windmill still party) These phrasings shall each lessen in audible sonority...perhaps as if someone were running backward further into a cave (reverb is Tom Clancy)

alto petra was a knife.

Aiming steadyful ixter

cast woefully

under toe

(end cup station. head slowly lowers. lights fade)

The sunset speeds so the stage lighting changes hues of light, yellow, to orange, to dark angel; forgive me Robinson for I am asunder. As the darkness envelopes all among the western card label, a gentle moon shall poor forth a low-level lit stage with dull fog breezing in. It is brick. It is moist. I was dusty.

Carsick Moon

The world is changing so they say. MIB and man walk slowly off stage left. I presume boat presence has sunk, deteriorated, ran for presidency or some other maladaptive pro-choice offering. None the less the stage shall become entirely black. Lapping waves of the North Seas shall convert to dull sounds of reverb--heard engulfing stage, audience, hand me downs.

I want the stage to assume the presence of a quasi-primordial human inhabited cave. Coyote howls, wind blows, sticks break, a child dies. All these things occur in nature.

MIB and man are there. We do not see them, we see nothing really, but they are there. Their presence shall abide by the layman code.

plillo

a.kdgu2://

it takes several minutes for the moon to rise

old man falls from the ceiling and hits the ground hard. in pajamas. disoriented. looks around. takes a few moments to notice the soldiers. then is startled when he does take notice.

all the soldiers are fake except one. this one is the man in black, who eyes the old man as the old man examines each soldier, one by one and begins to recall nicknames and names of certain soldiers stirred up from the depths of memory or pulled out of thin air or cut out of thick air. strange hair schemes. the old man tries to communicate with them. pleads with them to understand that he's here now. that they can all join now with him. when he reaches the MIB, the old man recognizes him as his old best friend. the MIB tries to keep his cover and blend in, but at some point gives in and responds with physical undulation. the old man is surprised and re-engages.

frashback

MIB assumes the role of the old man's best friend. talk until talk gets twisty. fake soldiers start falling away.

the world is changing

Gyptea

(The sun peers onto the stage, a table is visible with two women sitting at the table having tea. As the sun peeks more onto the stage the audience can see the women are sitting in a garden with a trellis and flowers all around. They are eating for a long while before they start to speak. The old man's leg is still visible from the rafters, as if it is frozen in space.)
6: Vinkly isnt it?
9: Rather manisklam but there are other days that done wane in. Whisker bread? (she offers 6 bread)
6: i am festmal thank. Whelik whelem dont you think?
9: are you hooked on meth?
6: i think i had that once, but there was much more west to win at the time
9: oh, i know you
6: back inta hibli
9: halipust is one of my favorites. thousands of arteries
6: i dont like to talk about it when i am not in west virginia
9: men with liver problems makes me mad
6: he told you about that then
9: i shouldnt be telling you but i feel safe with the facebook memoir that you gave me. i wasnt in the sorts when i started-
6: but you know where the fresh flash activist is?
9: i dont do tell
6: turn to hell and call for a cab
(they both stop and start lughing)
6: i am amazed
9: you arnt?
6: are you
9: am i?
6: why were you when you wernt there for the mallicgrahm.
9: i was if i wasnt and i were if my tires didnt skidd off the road
6: are all gasolines the same
9: meeth meeth have you been to the wrong place at the wrong time
6: indeed
9: case in point
(they stand and switch places)
9: control me please
6: i tend to mend your malidate
9: do you know that someday there will be race walter
6: rackalack?
9: no that is not what i was talking about in the beginnis
6: miss me miss me nowta
9: nowta toyto moto
6: if then i was then there was nothing
9: oh the nothing
6: ive been there several times
9: do you have pictographs?
6: no i have lemon rhines
9: rhinos arnt bad i heard they have the same features
6: indeed they do but you know there is nothing like a destron
9: oh you mean destro's i own one myself
6:ir-ration
9: no ratipack
6: 3 thousand four twenty five
9: i miss you. deprive me
6: i cant but i cant tell you about the pleather you just perchased. they are secret missions
(9 moves in close to listen)
6: what you dont know (she looks around) but there is a mission going on right now (looks around again) but i cant talk about the navy right now. i think you will know about transgender navy members. well this has gone too far. you know the mandate man pause?
9: uhh huh?
6: it will-
(the curtain is dropped on the two women and the lights are off. curtain rises on rows of soldiers at attention on the deck of a ship. they are all standing at attention. the old man starts to fall from the ceiling)

The Spokes of Indifference

One rope just out of reach begins to tremble. It does so for a few moments before it catches the old man's eye. MIB pretends not to notice, but starts to give the raised eyebrow effect akin to washing wiskers from opponet's scorecard. The sound of a barge begins to float into the landscape.

MIB: (to audience in incanting methodic spokes) Churning waters. Churlish daughters. By now allow yourself to clothe old grotto lobby sutures.

Old Man is stretching out to catch the rope. He seems to be making very slow progress

Old Man: argh! I'll get it! I'll do it. I'll climb into automer, you'll see...you...you...flax of a pigeon.

MIB: That's "magician"

Old Man: Doesn't mean anything to me!

Old Man finally connects with the rope and begins to climb as he starts histerically laughing in future quarantine

MIB seems to let him go with indifference as if there is a brick wall at the top of the rope. He patiently opens his book again and sits down to read slighly off of his current horse napkin. In quadrature, in other words.

Old man is struggling, but making progress. As he climbs, sounds of the barge wane as sounds of a dusty landscape wax. When he reaches the top we can only see his lower leg. Something seems to be missing...amiss.

The sun is hot.

Bar, Floss, Engage Youth Pastor

(shrouded in silence...I believe the initial sounds shall have gradually faded by this scene. Perhaps coming to a complete halt upon this scene's beginning--per capita by the medicine chorus, of course)

After 5-8 seconds of staring stedfastedly at the old man, who as we previously know has been stung sleepy drunk by the mitt of a dead snake, the silence breaks with a sudden dainty chorus of a birdsong. This bird song shall last a 2 cadence duration, approximately 5 seconds apiece, for a cumulative bout of 10 seconds or so. The second cadence shall be intermittently interuppted with a scratchy, chiding, dare I say improprietous, amount of static--probably tantamount to the static originally heard upon play's opening [source unknown--Cuba?]

Further silence pervades the stage upon the birdsong's ending. The static has by now become a delicate and susurrous murmur. Suddenly, the man clad in black has grown into an appreciative grin, as if remembering a time of past luminescence; this countenance purveys the panorama (This delicatessen shall chafe one-half course).

The old man now attunes himself to a bout of lumbar activity--posturing upward from his supine barber haul. The Old Man's face, at first rise a stone-etching (poignantly stoic, unmoved), shall turn toward the audience (by this time the Man in Black has walked a bit up center stage and has thusly unobscured any ocular path to the Old Man) and evolve as if fluidly separating the fog before him. This Old Man has seen the workings of his spell. The Man in Black has now caught to turning back afore his board whiskers to spy upon the Old Man. As if slightly suprised to see his spell work in such a hasty manner, he dusts his mitts together with a sheepish grin as the Old Man lay half-risen before him. The Old Man now firmly delighted, with legs aground, still peers outwardly with a dumbstruck gaze.

MIB: "Warden it's a cloth hamper!"
Old Man: "Don't get any ideas, bark fetus, it's a gasp in the afterlife and I haven't any raft!"
MIB: "Smite you, old bag, or I'll pound this serpent atop that skull of yours...again."
Old Man: (angrily) "The boy...where's that boy! I'll show him my burl. I'll carress his wages with a cassowary." The man suddenly searches feverishly for his rifle
MIB: " I don't imagine there'll be much of anything if you shant reprieve yourself from torah loan minkled on test lano flint. (the old man snarls angrily at the MIB) (MIB as if to settle the wits about the bugger) Rise you mitten hawk! I've a parlay to merge with your floundering about these ropes."
Old Man: "Rise, you say. Rise! Rise!" (coughs gingerly) "I've seen a few prideful revolutions in my days, I've seen a few 10 car parades. Don't get any ideas (turns with a sniggering grin) or I'll climb right on up there...right on up one of those ropes." (begins to laugh to himself).

talented tails

kd0g4://

the man, once boy is out of earshot and line of sight, slowly turns his head to the audience with a queer grin on. takes some time to inspect the audience

man: was i too harsh on him? hm? why? do you sunder line elixir? ha! a fine traction you'd make. and what of him?

becons to old man on ground with cane

what would he say of small snails sounding off to grab a spot on the next vessel? (without breaking expression yet a bit taken aback) yes. i suppose he would

more concerned, he slowly approaches the old man. gets down on one knee. adjusts coat. begins to waft old man's smell as if sniffing toxic chemicals. shoots a glance at the audience

best to keep your distance

pulls out a small black bound spell book. begins paging through it for the proper spell

let's see here...mare, quiet, flips and whispers, shallots, maldi- ah! here it is. clamour. yes. hmm. let's see...(reviewing spell)...one wash, turned flash, no cluster, hep, hopped, hope for it.

(reads on under his breath) glesper dost osscil hossen fresher hessish shessher frassher lesstin nostril got a gost cost a fur for it

briefly turns page to look and see if there's more. there isn't. flips back

right.

turns to audience and shrugs like "here goes nothing"

Gold Rag lord of Vengance

From stage left enters a figure clad in armor with a sword in his right hand--a suit for a knight. He has a mechanical walk; one that reminds a viewer of sanctity in metal. This figure approaches the ropes in a sequence of rigid motions. As he nears the bound ropes he slows to inspect them. Taking a postured stance behind the ropes he raises his sword and slices the bind in two. He walks back whence from which he came in the same deliberate manner.

The boy returns to the rope in an attempt to rebind them. Some seconds in to this deed a man clad in black-- a top hat, pierce nez, black waist coat, blooming black trousers, white socks, black shoes w/ silver buckles appears. He is adorned with a black cane in his right hand. A purposeful stride...approaching arrogance but falling short. He stops before the old man on the floor, facing the boy partially as the audience fills his other half.

man: Hey there Hilly Billy, I suggest a bit of candor with that device. It's ripe for treason in the
orchard of our hearts. In these parts a beckon is worth the call of wolves.

The boy ignores the man or he simply does not hear him

The man approaches the boy casually but with a bit of moxy--stepping over the old man that lay before him. The man taps the boy on the shoulder with his cane handle. The boy, startled, scurries to the other side of the rope while still clinging to his snake with a frightful grimace

(Turning toward center stage while making a sweeping arc motion with his cane) man: A bit of landfill in these parts is a rope from the heavens laddy. If I were desperate for a lark I would urge foreclosure on your twiney banquet yonder. Let me proper you a salacious offer: You allot me your snake and I'll lend you a grabby at my rope.

The boy ruminates the offer while holding his snake dearly. He eyes the ropes with a curious gaze. After some 5 seconds thought the boy tosses the snake to the man and lunges for the nearest rope. The rope raises just beyond his reach. The boy quickly lunges for the other rope only to see it also raise beyond his reach. After two or three feeble attempts to capture the ropes beyond his reach, the boy turns to the man with a solemn grimace.

man: Now bugger off you quip or I'll get a hold of your banquet measures. Go on now or I'll summon the dainty swifty of my minion!

The man methodically pokes the boy in his chest twice. The boy shrugs in disgust and quickly runs off stage right. The ropes lower slowly.

how the west was won

old man: nore would you want to know about the nar whales we keep in the barn. its a farse! (The old man begins to pull the ropes down and bind them) makes no matter of the sort this ported potter. i'de a blotter in my time. in a west of the Chip-chipe river. Only make you live alone your whole life. windex whimpering.
(A young boy starts to wander into the space. He is dragging a large dead snake in his hand. He notices the old man but tries not to make eye contact with him. The old man continues on his rant as the boy shuffles through the sawdust piles.)
old man: scrappy? scrappy they called me. i was a westie westerner. bluthering blister back then. making my marks on the women. pantering my way into their hearts. suits best. mesk my musk if you know what i mean. (to the young boy) dream it! i dare you. (shaking his head) young foolish and whisp-smackler. if i had a pencil for every time i listened to you. (again to the young boy who is not paying attention) relative to the bellhop. in my day we were born fighters. loosers were not accepted. there is no loosing in this town sunnie. bunny buddy boy. (the boy comes up upon the old man and without warning whips the dead snake at his head. It hits the man with such a blow that he falls to the ground. the young boy continues to wander the space without saying a word.)

old man

/performance space filled with sawdust and small people bustling with small tools and trinkets. a few thick ropes hang from the ceiling, nearly touching the ground. sounds of small stream trickling. crickets. tractor in the distance. shortwave radio sounds blip in and out. someone is setting up a carnival nearby. smells like the earth/

[old man enters dressed in one piece work suit with a rifle under his arm. removes his hat. lays the rifle against a bench. begins working on a piece of wood, pausing to speak every so often]

old man : this isn't what you think it is

[puts tool down. slowly scans audience then selects another tool. begins working again]

old man : or even what you thought it was. i once thought is was with think. would think. as thick as wood. [holds up the piece of wood to examine it] or a while at least taking. [puts wood back down] i don't have any stories left so don't expect it. all been taken. no animals left. sold. not even a dog. all dead.