Barnabas Tales Page 24

  Col. Not a laughing matter.

  Mrs Jones That’s enough now – Bill has the record. Dress up colonel, and pose with the pipe and pint. Thank you, Excellent.

  I suppose it is me now – with my wrinkles and varicose veins and all.

  Here – be a lovely cow.

  Do I make a good scarecrow?

  And now the toadstool with some elderly leg!

  Col .Amazing sight – reminds me of the Follies Bergere.

  Mrs Jone sAnd the bar scene – Bill I hope you are recording all of this – we must stick to the letter of the law.

  Lucinda How have the pictures come out?

  Bill A bit mixed, I should say. The cow, the scarecrow and you have come out well. But I can tidy up some of the other images.

  Mrs Jones .We should stop now – after lunch I’ll put the rest of the possible cast through the same tests.

  Curtain.

  Scene 2

  That Evening Mrs Jones, Lucinda and the Colonel meet again in the Village Hall.

  Colonel Now we have all these images from the afternoon as well, what about the casting?

  Lucinda There are some remarkable pictures. Did old Mrs Smith insist on putting two pipes in her mouth before or after her pint? And Kylie from the bar at the Crown seems to be a knicker-free zone. I didn’t know Bill’s camera could zoom like that. Still, I suppose she came straight from work. And the Squire’s dreadlocks have come out well. I rather like the Thomas twins offering hay to both ends of the cow – which is which?

  Col. The head end is the front. I thought a vet would know.

  Mrs. Jones Now then. No bickering in the ranks. We have to select, without any hint of favouritism or elitism. The Offstage Regulator insists that casting must be truly random. We must not consider voice or musical skills – that would indeed be talentism which is an especially serious matter. Colonel, will you do the honours please – our instructions are to throw the photos as high in the air as possible and we’ll see which falls nearest to the cow and toadstool and so on?

  Colonel throws the photos high in the air like confetti. As they flutter down his mobile telephone rings. He listens and stands to attention.

  Supper getting cold! Immediately, yes immediately, dear!

  Must go now!

  And Colonel goes out.

  Lucinda Mary, there is a real cow I must visit. Now that the process has been followed carefully and conscientiously you only have to look at where the photos fell. I think I’ll visit my patient. And leave you to find out who’s been selected.

  Winks and goes out.

  Mrs Jones What a ridiculous charade.

  Scoops up the photos decisively without looking at them and announces -

  Sound of Music – Lucinda

  Scarecrow Song – Squire

  Alice on the Toadstool – Kylee (plus knickers for the show)

  Girning Song – Colonel and the twins.

  First rehearsal on Friday.

  Curtain.

  CINDERELLA –THE BEGINNING

  Cast – Buttons and Cinderella plus a voice to come from the computer.

  Buttons sits in a room with desk and huge computer. Big notice – IT Department. He gets up and stretches and states :-

  My computer’s caught a virus, it came from the internet,

  From the IMF it started – it's the strangest that I've met

  But I've trapped it on the hard disk through my cunning and my charm

  With a password to control it so it can't do any harm.

  Walks to the front of the stage and declaims-

  Because:-

  I'm the clever IT techie in this stuffy old chateau,

  When computers throw a wobbly I'm the chap you need to know,

  Do not kick the erring lap top, do not whack it with your foot

  I can make the poor thing function with a far more gentle boot.

  There are fountains in the gardens, there's a moat around the wall,

  There are two ferocious sisters who are heading for a fall,

  Greedy father is a banker with a bonus that is vast,

  And with Soppy Prince and Cinders, we make up the total cast.

  There are messages by e-mail, there are goods that e-bay sells

  You can go into a website to buy really wicked spells,

  It's the Window to your culture, or the Apple of your eyes

  And this lad who keeps it coming feels he ought to win a prize.

  For this Buttons of the Keyboard holds the secrets of success,

  He can load strong wizard programmes, and expand them or compress,

  Either terminate your sessions, or embroider or adorn

  And surprise or even shock you with a diet of soft porn.

  But when darling Cinderella dusts the keyboard on her rounds

  I ensure that my computer makes such sweet romantic sounds.

  She's too poor to own an i-pod, and she can't afford a phone -

  How I long to share my hardware and to make this girl my own.

  Unpleasant female voice -

  Buttons! Buttons! Come up here immediately! Where are you? Hurry up! I'll box your ears. My X Box is missing! And there is something wrong with my sister's WiWi.

  Mutters – You both need a doctor! It’s a Wi! Shouts back - Coming Miss! Coming Miss!

  Leaves room.

  Cinderella enters, dusts computer, polishes the mouse, sighs and sits down.

  Here I dust, and clean and drudge,

  I know I'm not supposed to judge

  But why should I slave here each day,

  While my two sisters feast and play?

  My father's at the big gherkin

  With city friends, his kith and kin,

  He cooks the books and turns the wheels

  To fleece the public through his deals.

  He sponsors balls, invites rich friends,

  These parties serve his greedy ends,

  And don't help charity, the fact's

  They're set against his income tax!

  Tonight the handsome Prince attends,

  My sisters seek high social ends

  By dancing with his Royal Highness.

  So sad they always look a mess.

  Oh dear, I'd so like to go!

  She dusts the computer again, taps a few keys and hears music from the computer – then the words “What is your name? Type in the password!”

  She tells the auditorium “The Password? The Password? He only ever uses one password - Buttons”

  She laboriously types in Buttons and the computer says “You are now into the IMF vaults – the International Magic Funds. If you want one billion type 1, for ten billions type 2, for a hundred billions type 3. Otherwise type 4 and speak into the microphone. Your request may be recorded for training purposes.”

  She types 4 and says “Please may I go to the ball?”.

  Curtain.

  TOP PEOPLES' CUMULUS

  Scene 1 The celestial fields – some broken harps and wings lie around.

  Curtain rises – showing one statuesque Egyptian woman and a small thin man (Cleo and Asp).

  Cleo)“Asp – you’re a real pain, a horrid snake in the grass. You pretend to be a bosom pal, but are forever causing trouble. I wish Adam had stamped on you much harder. Going round spreading slimy stories!”

  Asp)“Give a fellow a bad name! And I’m only doing my job. As I did all that time ago when you shoved me down your cleavage to bite the next hairy hand which arrived. It wasn’t my fault you struck your own chest melodramatically while I was polishing my fangs. The insurance company accepted it as an Act of God. Anyway I’m not slimy, my skin is as smooth as yours – or at any rate as it once was.”

  Cleo)“You miserable worm – of course my skin is wrinkled after two thousand years – I can’t shed it every year. You should stop working for the gutter News of the Clouds fabricating stories and invading people’s privacy and imaginations. If you can upset me, think how you affect those who believ
e they only have one afterlife.”

  Asp)“But it’s what the punters want. You spend you celestial pension on historical romances and special deliveries of asses milk, but the public terraces can’t get enough of what I tell them. Anyway you had more than your fair share of newsworthy events. And I can get images of you into the next “Hello Halo” if you’re nice to me and interested.”

  Cleo)“Well perhaps. But why were you so horrid to my friend Nefertiti. You know she looks best from the side. And who cares if Anastasia was a fraud? .. Fade away now – I don’t want to be seen talking to you.”

  Enter plump person wearing crown. Exit Asp.

  Cleo)“Hello Bertie – How nice that you’ve got your crown back from Peter’s Pawn Emporium. Have the girls from the Nineties Follies begun to pall? You’re looking plumper than ever – too many Angel cakes I presume?”

  Bertie)“Oh Cleo! Still carrying on, I see. You know I met the strangest chap just before the last eclipse – said he was J. Ripper Esq., and claimed to know my old haunts. We didn’t have much else in common – quite interesting though.”

  Cleo)“Bertie – don’t keep fretting about your dreary days and your old tight-corseted Mum. I always say Memphis was the place to be, before those Romans stuck their oars in. Anyway - been somewhere interesting with that crown – amuse me with the details?”

  Bertie)“I’ve had a few outings – but more as a voyeur than a major mover. I popped into the dreams of Putin and Sarkosy – thought the sparkle of these diamonds would interest them - and whispered Emperor of India once or twice. But they were both so full of fears that I found it too too boring.”

  Cleo)“How’s your stud getting on?”

  Bertie)“You mean the gee-gees? That’s quite good – I’ve got a race between Red Rum and Belepheron lined up for the Horse Nebula. Can I interest you in attending?”

  A man with his head in a book almost bumps into them.

  Bertie)“By Jupiter, Isaac. You gave me quite a start. Would you like to join us at the Horse Nebula, just as long as you stop throwing apples in the air and grumbling when they come down on your head?”

  Isaac)“No, thank you kindly. I’m going back to my black hole to do some serious thinking. It’s a long time since I invented anything as useful as the cat flap. And did you know that black matter is still one of the major problems in this universe?”

  Cleo)“Speaking as an African I thought we were the black matter that holds everything together? Or was that black humour? Oh, never mind, though I seem to remember some philosopher telling us so.”

  Isaac)“Enoch’s not really a philosopher – more a dervish with those glittering eyes. He’s gone off today looking for rivers of blood – very strange hobby.”

  Isaac puts his head into the book again and wanders off.

  Bertie)“Cleo – there is something I want to ask you about. I’m worried about my Celestial Ghost Licence. Almost nobody dreams about me these days and I haven’t haunted anyone for ages. And if I lose my CG licence I’ll have to travel incognito on over-booked budget cloud carriers such as Tryon.”

  Cleo)“If you’re wearing that crown you could ask for an upgrade”

  Bertie)“Some chance – the receptionists are trained to say no. Can you imagine it – an afterlife where the angels are trained to say no? And did you hear the latest? Ann Boleyn wasn’t allowed to take her head on a meteor recently in case the teeth hijacked it – her head had to travel separately in the tail.”

  Small man (Napoleon) struts in wearing Field Marshall’s uniform.

  Boney)“Bon jour, Madame Cleo, Monsieur Bertie. I come to call you for an announcement of the HG – the Holy Ghost. You both have seats in the same part of the Decreation Hall – in room square root of minus13. We assemble in five time units from now.”

  Bustles out.

  Bertie)“Who was that?”

  Cleo)“I certainly don’t want to have anything to do with him! Low class fellow! I think I’ve heard him called Bony, something about the French Revolution, but I may have mixed him up with Poirot. I suppose we’d better follow. Come along Bertie. Don’t forget your crown.”

  Exit, Curtain.

  Scene 2 – Room Square Root of minus 13. Seated Cleo and Bertie together, Bony apart and Asp standing at the back. All are looking at a large suspended sheet. Boney rises and approaches sheet. Salutes in front of it.

  Boney) “Excellency - this is room square root of minus 13 - First Division officers calling. We are here, Excellency. Over.”

  Sheet is illuminated.

  Holy Ghost Voice through sheet)“Welcome. I have five important messages from the Cupboard. Please pay close attention.

  1)Some First Division ghosts are not making enough impact or reaching their targets.

  2)Re-allocation of privileges will be made at the next solar transit.

  3)All ghosts must observe strict Health, Safety and Gender regulations.

  4)Because of the lamentable quality of new applicants, the Cupboard has decided that ghosts are permitted to reproduce until further notice.

  5)Reduced Ambrosia harvests due to climate change mean that the monthly ration is reduced with immediate effect.

  That is the end of message. Go steadily my friends. Out.”

  Sheet stops being illuminated.

  Bertie) Cupping his ear “What was that?

  Cleo) “Old Perforations is tightening the screw – with new targets, privileges removed, reduced rations. And telling us we should reproduce – I ask you – at 2000 old that’s going to take some doing. It’s all getting too much – I’d like to jump on a passing asteroid and get out altogether.”

  Bertie) “What about the reproduction? Up to now it has been forbidden.”

  Cleo) “I don’t know. Perhaps Teacher’s Pet may know. Hey. What’s your name, what was that fourth instruction about?”

  Boney) “Not tonight, Josephine! As soon as they sent me to St. Hilda’s on my way here I bitterly regretted those words, the best known of all my sayings. Think of that! Not tonight, Josephine! It sounds as though I was washing my wig that evening.”

  Cleo) “Stop twittering and tweeting – what was that about reproduction?”

  Boney) “Oh that! You are allowed to reproduce now. Fat lot of good it will be to most of us.”

  Bertie) “Are we expected to have baby ghosts?”

  Cleo) “Not really - It’s just another example of how the Holy Ghost is out of touch, along with the whole Cupboard. Talk about “Through the Wardrobe” – more like grovelling in the sock drawer! Head in clouds, feet nowhere near the ground, frightful hang-ups and ignorance about anything important or practical. Only Cosmic Dust where their brains should be! After two millenniums of a safe period I don’t see any likelihood of wispy little apparitions drifting out from me. Except for a few young ghosts this decree has no relevance whatever.”

  Bertie) “But Cleo – I still detect a hint of je-ne-sais-qua about you. What about a try? After all we are the only true aristocrats here – indeed after all these years I sometimes think my blood is bluer than is entirely healthy. Yet when I look at those curious double-occulting stars I think it would be nice to whirl round and round with a social equal. You must have learned some good triangular dances and activities by the Pyramids.”

  Asp) “Do you mean a reproductory threesome? Can I join in too?”

  Cleo & Bertie) “No! You caused enough trouble last time. Go away! We’re talking.”

  Asp) “Miserable shades – I’m as good as ghost writer as any - just because I don’t scribble sonnets every day.”

  Enter old lady with an anxious look and a short frilly skirt.

  Dorothy)“Hello. Hello. I’m Dorothy. Can anyone here e-mail to Kansas?”

  Boney) “Kansas! Where’s that? Do they have ghosts there?”

  D)“I don’t know, but I’ve lost my friends. We were following the Creamy Way. It’s very fattening and none of them realised that skimmed milk was healthier. And have you seen the Scarecr
ow – you can recognise him by the Betelgeuse in his hair?”

  Asp) “Never mind that – have you a story to tell? Any secrets or scandals? Be nice to me and I’ll get your picture in “Hello Halo”, or “Cloudy Death”. You sound as if you’re from America.”

  D) “Not really – no more than usual. But what is that sheet hanging up for?”

  Boney) (reverently)“You mustn’t touch that. The Holy Ghost makes his pronouncements through it.”

  D) “Nonsense – I know all about these tricks – he’ll be a man of straw – smoke and mirrors – just you watch.”

  She tears the sheet down. Behind is a table and chair. On the table are five apples and a notice “Eat me.”

  D) “There, I told you so. Now pick up your apple and take a bite. Do as I say! Quick, quick or I’ll turn Alice or Garrison Kieler loose on you.”

  They each bite an apple, the lights fade, a cloud of mist crosses the stage and when the lights come up a notice is present:-

  Milk of Magnesia will settle your digestion and bad dreams.

  It is Mildly Laxative, which is a good thing and the start of another story.

  HALLOWEEN AT THE VICARAGE

  Scene One. A rather dark room. Two adults – mother and teen-age daughter present.

 

  Mother. (calling) “Sally - have you tidied your coffin yet?”

  Sally. “Nearly Mummy - is it dark enough?

  Mother “Not quite. Shut the lid and come up here when you are ready”

  She busies herself, bringing out a small model dog, stroking it and placing on the table. She collects a dagger and a large white sheet. Sally enters, brushing herself down.

  Sally “The maggots and mould get everywhere. Do I look all right?”

  Mother “Yes dear - just right - well perhaps you need a little more pallor”

  She dabs chalk onto Sally’s face “That’s better.”

  Mother “Now dear, I must tell you about the facts for tonight - this is going to be your first big night out.”

  Sally “Oh Mummy - how old-fashioned you are - we know all about what can happen and the risks. The girls talk about little else in the crypt after school.”

  Mother “Nevertheless dear - we don’t want any slips. This stuffed dog here is our very own family icon - his pedigree name is Llewellyn but I call him Fido. Your great-great grandfather took him hunting one day in the catacombs where he bit an over-inquisitive English curate – and now that he has been stuffed he has very special properties.”