Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Session XIX, (cont.) - Floyd's Puppet Theatre Interpretation

The Order of the Abbey, Part Four: Dealin’ with Doogal
Act II


Curtain opens on the interior of the Warrior’s Rest. A new gnome, RUMPLEMINTZ, is behind the bar. A few patrons mill about, drinking and talking.

The doors open and BRIXMORE, VIRGIL, CHRIS TENNISON, and GUY enter.


RUMPLEMINTZ: Well, I’ll be! The famous Year of the Ram themselves! You must be… now, let me see… don’t help me – Brixmore the dwarf, right?
BRIX: Aye.
RUMPLEMINTZ: And you’re Guy Fodder, am I correct?
GUY: Fodder’s… really more of a nickname.
RUMPLEMINTZ: And Virgil?
VIRGIL: Who the fuck is this guy?
RUMPLEMINTZ: And are you, Chris Tennison, formerly Hirsute MacGuffin?
CHRIS TENNISON: Sure am!
RUMPLEMINTZ: Well, I’m just as pleased as punch to meet you all! I’m Rumplemintz. Goldscmiddt hired me on as extra help.
GUY: Opposites attract, I see.
RUMPLEMINTZ: Hm?
GUY: Never mind.
RUMPLEMINTZ: But, wait! Where’s the one who made your names so famous, your gnomish bard companion?
VIRGIL: Oh, he’ll be along in a minute.

FLOYD enters, agitated.

FLOYD: Virgil! Thanks for a whole assload of nothing!
VIRGIL: What are you talking abou?
FLOYD: Mitchell was not hiding in that there briar patch up the road… I don’t know what you saw, but now I’m all scratched up and my clothes are torn, and…you son of a bitch.

The others break up laughing. FLOYD addresses the audience:

FLOYD: Hi, folks, Floyd Fiftynames here. I’ve been a little off my game recently. See, I just found out that there’s this bard out there named Mitchell who’s playing my songs and claiming them as his own. I called him out on it, and just as we were about to fight an honest duel, he sucker punched me. Suffice to say, when I find him, he’d have best written his own dirge.
RUMPLEMINTZ: Oh, my! Is it really you?
FLOYD: What’s that? Oh, yes. Good to meet you…
RUMPLEMINTZ: Rumplemintz.
FLOYD: Rumplemintz. A pleasure.
RUMPLEMINTZ: Oh, the pleasure’s all mine, Mitchell!

Thunder.

FLOYD:…what?
RUMPLEMINTZ: The author of such songs as “To Be a Mer-Gnome,” and “The Battle of the Cracked Flagon” needs no introduction here. We all know you, Mitchell!
FLOYD: My. Name. is. Not. Mitchell.
RUMPLEMINTZ: Oh, I’m sorry. What is your name, gnomish stranger?
FLOYD: I sir, am Floyd Havenshickle Ullrich Nicklepolish Fogerty Nipnipnip Eidelweiss Filtmore Sussantacher Dondlefizzle Greenbarrow Corknozzle Degrander Flippentumble Witzen Hollowhiller Kriddentree Meidentallow Quartzbasher Badgertailor Pommemander Yulespritzle Havendasher Breezefighter Culinator Obblepeddler Burrowmaster KaBong Hatcrafter Saucespoon Udenhollow Rickshaw Shadowblaster Wicktamer Bostwick Fellowhand Bashhit Tuladenfork Alphabetaxer Elf-friend Ropedryer Bellowsmender Twinklefoot Pipethief Grimbit Judenhaste Swistender Nozplaster Krisskslayer FIFTYNAMES, dammit!
RUMPLEMINTZ: Oh. Do you know Mitchell?
FLOYD: I know everything you need to know about that son of a bitch.
RUMPLEMINTZ: Do tell!
FLOYD:
Sings:
What kind of Gnome
Steals another Gnome’s song?
It’s just not the right thing to do –
No honorable Bard
Would e’er play that card
Without a soul made of pure poo.

So, Mitchell the Bard
Must be a retard,
For stealing Floyd Fiftynames’ songs –
Not only a thief,
E’er he turned a new leaf
The other side’d also be wrong.

It sure is a shame
That he’d sully his name
And the name of good Bards everywhere;
If he feels threatened by me,
Well, that’s easy to see,
For I’m young and my nuts have more hair.

Yes, Mitchell the Bard
Has much balder gnards,
As all of you now are aware,
I’m sure the Council would blush,
And soon they would rush
To let a new Bard clear the air.

Button. Spoken:

RUMPLEMINTZ: Say, that’s pretty good!
FLOYD: I know.

FLOYD crosses to an empty table and sits.

GUY: Don’t mind him. Is Goldschmiddt in?
RUMPLEMINTZ: Oh, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.

GOLDSCHMIDDT enters.

GOLDSCHMIDDT: Oh, goody. It’s the merry band of adventurers who occasionally stop by to threaten my life.

Suddenly, his tone changes, and he says under his breath to the party:

My office. Quick.
CHRIS TENNISON: Hey, Goldschmiddt, we… wait, what?
GOLDSCHMIDDT: You heard me. Now.

GOLDSCHMIDDT exits into the back.

BRIX: Come on, Floyd. Goldschmiddt has something important to tell us.
FLOYD: Fine.

The boys exit into the back. A-STAGE closes. B-STAGE opens up, revealing small office. GOLDSCHMIDDT sits at his desk. The party enters. GOLDSCHMIDDT behaves differently than his “public” persona. He is quick, to the point, and curt.

GOLDSCHMIDDT: Do you boys know anyone who might have released the Wild Hunt?
VIRGIL: What? No! Why?
BRIX: The Wild Hunt is on the loose?
GUY: Holy shit!
GOLDSCHMIDDT: Somebody went to the Dagda Bridge and released the Hunt, and I have a theory that it’s after you boys.
VIRGIL: Who the fuck would send the Wild Hunt after us?

A pause as it sinks in.

GUY: Doogal.

CHORD.

BRIX: What is with that guy?
GOLDSCHMIDDT: But how did Doogal get that information?
FLOYD: I think I know.
GOLDSCHMIDDT: What?
FLOYD: Guy… your book.

GUY pulls the book out of his backpack that was made by PHILIPI, the scribe.

GUY: Oh. Forgot I had this.
FLOYD: Is there a chapter in there about the Dagda bridge?

GUY peruses the book.

GUY: Um… yeah.
FLOYD: There’s your answer, Goldschmiddt.
GOLDSCHMIDDT: This is not good.

A mist starts to creep in under the door.

We’ve got to hid you boys somewhere… somewhere the hunt can’t get to.
BRIX: Is there anyplace it can’t go?
GOLDSCHMIDDT: Only one place nearby that I can think of.
CHRIS TENNISON: Hey, cool! Mist!
GOLDSCHMIDDT: Son of a bitch. The hunt is on its way.

GOLDSCHMIDDT reaches into his desk, and hands all the boys a vial.

Drink this, then run west to a clearing about half a day’s ride from here.
GUY: Are you kidding? We’ll be chopped to bits before we ever get there!
GOLDSCHMIDDT: Not if you drink that, you won’t.
GUY: But what is it?
GOLDSCHMIDDT: It’s special magic hoo-joo! You don’t have time for questions – drink it!

The party obliges. B-STAGE closes behind the characters.

GOLDSCHMIDDT: Run!

The party runs (in place). GOLDSCHMIDDT exits, and B-STAGE opens, revealing blurry trees as the characters book it. The sound of a HORN fills the air, and the mist becomes thicker.

VIRGIL: Whoooo! This is awesome!
CHRIS TENNISON: How are we running so fast?
VIRGIL: Powerful magics, my friend.
GUY: I think the more important question is, how did Goldschmiddt get his hands on this kind of magic?
FLOYD: Yeah, he’s just an unassuming barkeep at an inn that used to be a tomb way out in the middle of nowhere. Those guys never turn out to be more than they seem.
GUY: But it raises the even MORE important question –
BRIX: No! No, there is no more important question, at least not at the moment. The important issue right now is to run from the hunt before it catches up with us!
CHRIS TENNISON: Brixmore makes a solid point, fellas.
GUY: Fair enough. I guess the only question I have at this point, then, is how much farther are we going to be able to run?

The party exits. B-STAGE closes.

A-STAGE opens to a clearing in the middle of the forest. A modest country house with an exterior cellar, exuding peace and safety from every door and window. A man sits on the porch, thoughtfully smoking a pipe. This is DOOVIN. The sound of footsteps, and the horn approach. Mist surrounds the clearing, but does not enter it. Finally, BRIX, GUY, VIRGIL, CHRIS TENNISON, and FLOYD run in, and stop, breathing heavily.


DOOVIN: Hello.
VIRGIL: Hi.
GUY: Goldschmiddt sent us.
DOOVIN: (nodding) Mm-hm. The Hunt?
CHRIS TENNISON: Yeah. How’d you –

A chill ripples through the clearing as THE HORNED KING enters, a towering figure clad in a dark cloak; he has great antlers that protrude from a hood that obscures the rest of his face.

THE HORNED KING stops at the edge of the clearing. He can go no farther.


FLOYD: Gah!
DOOVIN: Relax. He can’t come in here.
BRIX: He can’t?
DOOVIN: Nope – on account of the holy magic that protects this place.
BRIX: Holy magic? What kind of –
DOOVIN: You boys must be tired.
VIRGIL: Well, now that you mention it –

BRIX, FLOYD, GUY, CHRIS TENNISON, and VIRGIL collapse in a deep slumber. DOOVIN addresses THE HORNED KING.

DOOVIN: I’m taking these boys inside to get some rest now. You shoo. Shoo!

DOOVIN waves his pipe at THE HORNED KING, who skulks away.

A-STAGE closes. B-STAGE opens to reveal the underwater kingdom of the Mer-Gnomes. MER-FLOYD swims in, followed by MER-GUY, MER-BRIX, MER-VIRGIL, and MER-CHRIS TENNISON.

VIRGIL: Whoa…
FLOYD: I fucking told you so!
BRIX: You sure did, Floyd.
FLOYD: So maybe you should believe me about Mitchell, too.
GUY: I seriously doubt that.
FLOYD: Why?
GUY: Because this is a dream sequence, dumbass.
CHRIS TENNISON: And the gag is getting tired, too.
FLOYD: Fine, fine…

The party swims off. LILY enters.

LILY: Floyd?

B-STAGE closes. A-STAGE opens up on the interior of DOOVIN’s house. FLOYD is downstairs, picking at a lute. DOOVIN is cooking breakfast. BRIX is off to the side, saying his prayers. CHRIS TENNISON enters.

CHRIS TENNISON: What time is it?
FLOYD: Wednesday.
CHRIS TENNISON: Jumpin’ Jehosaphat! We slept for three days?
DOOVIN: You looked like you needed it.
FLOYD: That we did, Doovin.
CHRIS TENNISON: Doovin?
DOOVIN: At your service. Have some breakfast.

DOOVIN sets down a monster plate of biscuits, bacon, and gravy in front of CHRIS TENNISON, who eats hungrily.

FLOYD: Three days of sleep’ll have an effect on your appetite.
Sings:
Down at the edge of the forest
Just before the sun met the day
At a quaint little farm
Where you’ll never know harm
I found me a nice place to stay

I was awoke from my slumber
By a smell from the stove wafting by
Of hot, piping coffee
And biscuits and gravy
And bacon just starting to fry

So pleasant was this early morning
I was certain that this was a dream
But the aches that I felt
Told me I wasn’t healt,
And things truly were as they seemed

And then as I rose up to standing
I was greeted by a friendly face
Sayin’, ‘Hot piping coffee
And biscuits and gravy
Before you return to the race’

Every minstrel and wandering traveler
Needs a spot to feel safe now and then
And the farm that I found
Where the crops grow around
Is a place that I’ll visit again.

Button. Spoken:

DOOVIN: Well, I do what I can.

BRIX finishes his prayers, crosses to the table.

BRIX: I’ve never felt so close to the One True God before. This place is amazing.
DOOVIN: There's a reason for that.
FLOYD: It’s so peaceful.

GUY and VIRGIL enter, recently awake.

GUY: All right, I’m up. Time for questions!
FLOYD: Well, it was.
VIRGIL: Who are you?
DOOVIN: Name’s Doovin.
GUY: Why did Goldschmiddt send us to you?
DOOVIN: Probably because I can provide you lads with some answers.
GUY: What kind of answers?
DOOVIN: Well, take the Harvest, for instance.
VIRGIL: You… you know about the Harvest?
DOOVIN: Sure do. Floyd told me all about it.
VIRGIL: How much did you tell him, Floyd?
FLOYD: Doovin? I told him everything. You would too, if you tried the food he just made.
VIRGIL: I very much doubt that…

VIRGIL takes a bite of a biscuit. It’s overwhelmingly good.

Wow. Doovin, sometimes I sneak off into the forest so I can jerk off in peace.
FLOYD: Thems are damn fine biscuits!
GUY: So, what can you tell us about the Harvester?
DOOVIN: Well, if the Harvester is loose, he’s preparing for the Harvest. That’ll take place on the last night of High Autumn. In the meantime, he’s going to have to undergo a one-month preparation for the Harvest in a secret location. Find that location, and you can stop him before this all goes down.
CHRIS TENNISON: With the Apocalypse Sword, maybe?
DOOVIN: Oh, yes – the sword. Let me see that.

GUY hands DOOVIN the sword. He draws it.

VIRGIL: Holy fucking shit!

VIRGIL, GUY, FLOYD, BRIX, and CHRIS TENNISON all cover their eyes and hunch down. To their surprise, the sword does not kill them.

DOOVIN: “Lo, I am Death, destroyer of worlds.”

He sheaths the sword.

Yep, that’s the Shiva Sword, all right. Has the power to undo creation.
BRIX: Yeah? Well, how come it didn’t just now?
DOOVIN: Because nothing evil can enter this property.
VIRGIL: Nothing?
DOOVIN: Not a thing… that I know of.
VIRGIL: Well, that’s a relief.
BRIX: What is?
VIRGIL: I’m not evil.
BRIX: Well, neither was Sally, but you’d never know from the Eye of Toth being in her head. Some things can be deceiving.
DOOVIN: Eye of Toth?
GUY: Yeah, what do you know about that?
DOOVIN: Just that Toth was a pagan god of old. Using the powers of the Eye eventually take your soul away.
VIRGIL: Oh, excellent.
GUY: I guess that means we have to go back and get it back from Sally.
DOOVIN: I’m sure Garam will take care of it. You Year of the Ram children have this tendency to take everything upon yourselves.
BRIX: Well, speaking of Year of the Ram, what can you tell us about that?
DOOVIN: Well, there are twelve of you born in this cycle of the year of the ram.
BRIX: This cycle?
DOOVIN: Yes… Children were born in the other years of the ram, you know.
GUY: Maybe they could provide some answers that we’ve been seeking. Do you know any previous generations of the year of the ram, Doovin?
DOOVIN: Only one, and it’s best that you not get mixed up with him.
FLOYD: Aw, come on!
DOOVIN: No, no. It’s not time for that. You have members of your own generation to worry about.
FLOYD: Like who?
DOOVIN: Like Doogal.

CHORD.

BRIX: Are you trying to tell us that Doogal is also a member of the Year of the Ram?
GUY: That doesn’t even begin to make sense. He was already an active beast breeder by the time we were sixteen.
DOOVIN: What can I say? Doogal’s a go-getter.
CHRIS TENNISON: Wow. It’s kind of humbling to think of yourselves as late-bloomers, huh?
FLOYD: Easy now, Chris Tennison. Nothing humbles Floyd Fiftynames.
DOOVIN: Oh, yeah?
FLOYD: Yeah.
DOOVIN: Perhaps you boys should come to my basement.
FLOYD: Something about that sounds so wrong, and yet, I am completely amenable to your suggestion.

DOOVIN’s kitchen flies out, replaced by his basement, which has some weapons and tools hanging on the walls, and a large slab in the center, upon which a fresh-looking body lays.

BRIX and GUY immediately fall to their knees. FLOYD takes off his hat.

VIRGIL: Who is this?
DOOVIN: This is the earthly body of The Proclaimer.

The boys exchange looks. Curtain closes.

END OF ACT II

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