Sunday, 1 September 2013

the funny house for funny people



THE PARKER HOUSE

A One Act Play
In Iambic Pentametre
Au Guillaume Shakespearium

By izzy Ess of Craziness

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

HUNTER, Jonathan
DOLL, Barbie
MAESTROIANNI, Joe
TEMPTRESS, Miriam
MATRON, Roberta
WESLEY, Leslie
SMITH, John
LITTLE, Jennifer
SINATRA, Fred
PLEASANCE, Ron

 STAGING:
A very large house has been refurbished to accommodate the daily visits of a small population of folks of Smithville, Tennessee, who have mental illnesses.  Local, national and international charities support a network of such houses throughout the USA and Canada.  It is 8:00 am and it’s time for the weekday, daily, conference under the supervision of Jennifer Little, the chief counsellor for the downstairs kitchen crew, this Monday morning.  Breakfast is at 9:00.  Counsellors and mental illness folks are seated around the tables which are put together to make a conference table in the erstwhile and present dining area.  Jennifer is taking attendance and recording the presence of the others on a pre-typed roster.  Each person raises his hand and says, “Yo!” when his or her name is called from the roster.  The next item on the set agenda is for everyone in turn to tell the group what he or she did on the weekend and how he or she feels.

Hunter:
I did some hunting with my dad.  He is
A great guy and he takes me fishing and
He’s taught me how to catch a rabbit and
To grab it by the ears and kill it with
My knife and skin it quickly to prepare
It for the spit to roast it in the woods
And eat it while it’s hot and juicy, eh?

Hunter has revealed that he had in his pocket a huge hunting knife with straight and serrated edges.  He’s pulled out the blade to make it full-size and has gestured as he talked about the rabbit all the motions of his story while smiling with a devilish grin.  Hunter is deeply tanned and has dark brown nicotine stains on his fingers due to a heavy smoking habit of other people’s cigarettes.

Jennifer:
Oh, Hunter, put that knife away.  It’s dangerous,
We all can see.  Now was there anything
That you were up to all this weekend?
Was your father kind to you and does
He love you?  Tell the group about your folks.

Hunter’s smile and knife are put away as he sadly tells his story:

My mom and dad were arguing about
The finances that were so tight.  My mom
Was sobre and my dad was drinking whiskey,
Which a farmer makes out on his farm.
It’s very strong and when my daddy drinks
He starts to knock my mom and me around.
I’ve tried to separate them but I end
Up getting battered by my dad.  I love
Him but he gets so drunk, he can’t see that
I love him and would like to be with him,
Like him, forever.  He’s just taught me all
I know about my knife and rifle and
The great techniques of killing and preparing
Food, out in the woods.  We saw a doe
One time and shot her dead with two good shots
By each of us.  We skinned her quickly and
We roasted her right there and then and ate
The meat.  It was delicious and I really
Loved my dad when we spent such good times,
Out in the woods.  My mom says all the killing
Is not healthy for me, but it makes
Me closer to my dad.  When he is sobre,
He is my own bosom buddy as
We share his knowledge of the animals
And how to kill them, skin them and enjoy
Them, thoroughly.  We often share some whiskey,
In the woods, when mom is not around.
He gets so ugly drunk that he beats me
A lot.  I do forgive him ‘cause his life
Is hard and his strong drinking makes him so
Forget his troubles with police and finances.
He sends some money here for me to buy
My food and coffee.  He does not think I
Should smoke and does not give me money for
Some cigarettes.  My mom agrees with him.

During this speech, Hunter has again produced his long sharp blade and plays with it so casually.  His devilish smile has also re-appeared.  Jennifer indicates by a motion of her hand that he should put his knife back in his pocket.  The smile and blade again, disappear, as Jennifer goes on to ask the others for their weekend activities:

Would anyone besides our Hunter like
To tell us all about his weekend stuff?

Barbie Doll, dressed in a bright red sweater which is tight and shows her figure to advantage, as does her very short and tight jean’s shorts, likes to show her shapely legs and wears high-heeled leather boots.  She bares her shoulders with an adjustment to her neckline and reveals several tattoos, one a monarch butterfly and the other, which is done upon her right breast of a she-devil, naked with red skin and a long black pointed tail.  Her hair is long and straight and bleached blond which she wears in a youthful pony tail.  She wears very dark designer sunglasses.  She has a high though sexy voice and offers:

I spent the weekend at my girlfriend’s parents
House.  Her folks were out of town.  We drank
Some beer and listened to her Elvis discs.
The six of us young girls were in a mood
To have an overnight pajama party
And we tossed some pillows at each other.
Boy!  We had some fun before we fell
Asleep in a big pile, atop of me,
While all quite naked and exhausted from
The dances that we did.  At dawn, we made
Some breakfast and we ate a ton of pancakes,
Syrup and some coffee.  Then we did
Our make-up with my girlfriend’s mother’s stuff
And made ourselves quite whorey and so evil
Looking.  See?  The pictures on my iPhone
Show me and my friends still naked but
Made up to look like prostitutes.  Here, look!

All the men get up very quickly to look over Barbie’s shapely, tattooed shoulders to gaze at pictures on her iPhone.  They point and giggle and enjoy the pictures, men and women both.  They murmur “Wow!” and “Ooh Hoo!” as the pictures are closely studied and appreciated.  At one point Barbie stands to imitate her pose and shows the group her lovely legs and shapely body, proudly and quite unabashedly.  All of them are smiling broadly.  Some of them make obscene gestures with their limbs and pelvic areas and some just imitate Barbie.  Finally, Jennifer makes a gesture to desist and indicates that Barbie has already shown her pictures quite enough.  Joe Mastroianni starts to tell his weekend story:

I went to Memphis to a concert by
That trumpeter who plays the Blues and Shoes.
I went with Lulu, my own fiancée,
Who really digs the Blues and Shoes.  She got
Real stoned on Tennessee old fashioned marijuana
And she couldn’t keep her hands
Away from me.  We spent the night with a
Big crowd that left the concert and we walked
The streets of Memphis with a bunch of people
‘Til we found a city park where we
Could sleep on benches in the moonlight.  One
Guy had a boom box and he played the Blues
And Shoes new album through the night.  We hitched
A ride with a truck driver who accepted
A blow job for all the gas, from my
Cute Lulu.  At  our church we did confessions
With the priest who gave us absolutions.

Roberta Matron is the next to talk.  She’s dressed in very old clothes that make her look quite dowdy.  The clothes hide a once magnificent body with large breasts and broad hips.  She gives the following account of her weekend with her very old parents with whom she lives still, unmarried, and never married at about 50 years of age.  She wears no make-up and her hair is short, in a bob:

I spent the weekend in my parent’s house,
In my old room, above the sunroom on
The second floor.  I cooked the meals for them
And washed the dishes, afterwards.  We watched
A lot of television.  Mom likes CSI
And CSI, Miami and
The movies on the Public Station, which
Are sometimes black and white and star her favourites
With Barbara Stanwick and Ms. Myrna
Loy, Sir Humphrey Bogart and Herr Sidney
Greenstreet.  They just fall asleep right on
The couch.  I let them snore and stay asleep
And I go to my room and read a book.
Oh, lately, I’ve been reading Pride and Prejudice
About a bunch of single women hoping
Some good man will marry them and want
To have a family.  I realized
That I was once like them and now it’s much
Too late for me.  I’ve never ever had
A boyfriend and I am still a virgin, eh?
No one is waiting in the wings to marry
Me, with both my parents hanging on!
There’s no one else to care for them.  They’re old
And feeble and I need to cook and clean
For them until they die.  The only hope
I have is finding a good man who also
Has his parents to take care of and
Would like to join with me and keep our parents
Happy, as we all grow old together,
Happily.  No longer can I make
A baby but our folks would be our babies
‘Til they die.  It’s very sad, you see?

Robert looks to Heaven and begins to cry.  She puts her head down on her arms and cries into her sleeves.  Some of the others pat her back to comfort her.  They never find the words to help her become more optimistic because when they’ve tried she always answers in a way to show that she is doomed forever to be lonely.

Jennifer is one that comforts her by rubbing her back.  Jennifer speaks next and tells her own peculiar story of her weekend:

Hey guys, I had a really wonderful
Good time with a nice man whom I met in
My Catholic Church, last week.  He’s Catholic, just
Like me, and we did hit it off immediately.
Saturday, he drove me into
Nashville and he treated me to dinner
And a movie and we sat and watched
The latest horror movie with a Scream,
A Primal Scream, which scared me and it made
Me tremble.  Jimmy, that’s his name, he noticed
And he reached for me.  He gripped my knee
So gently that it thrilled me to be with
Him, eh?  As the dark movie showed more horrors, he
Then gripped my thigh and moved his fingers up
My thigh to touch my private parts, so tenderly.
He felt that I was thrilled by his nice touching
And he left his hand just rest between
My thighs.  I gripped his hand and pushed it into
Me.  Did that feel good, or what?  When we
Walked out together, he did hold my hand
And led me to a nice hotel downtown
Where we signed up as married to each other
With the married name of Smith.  We spent
The night just hugging and just kissing.  In
The morning, he took me to Church and then
We parted company.  I dreamt about
The possibilities, last night and I’m
Still dreaming about Jimmy, my new friend.
I’m hoping he’s not married and quite free.

The group started spontaneously applauding their counsellor.  Roberta blushed and stood to take a bow, which garnered more enthusiastic clapping.  She sat and looked around to see if anyone was ready to proceed.  No one volunteers.  So, she looks directly at Sinatra, Fred, and indicates that he must say a thing or two.  With a tremble in his voice, Fred murmurs:

Oh, nothing much was happening this weekend,
Eh?  Samantha, my old girlfriend, asked
Me to come over and enjoy some television,
And I did.  She was dressed in
Her black old lacy negligee and had
Made popcorn for us both.  She had supplies
Of Budweiser, which we drank slowly.  She
Lay down her head on my left shoulder and
She started playing with my buckle.  When
She got it loose, she pulled it out and strapped
Me with it playfully on both my thighs.
I turned the tables on her and I grabbed
The belt and started strapping her about
Her hips and thighs.  She cried out mockingly,
As if I’d really hurt her.  Then she lay
Across my thighs and let me spank her playfully.
She loved it and reminded me
That we were once an item and we loved
To play this game of S & M.  She pulled
Her negligee right down and asked me to
Just nibble on her breast the way I used
To do it, years ago.  I tried to not
Get serious, but she persisted, so
I let my zipper get unzipped while she
Fished out my wee-wee and proceeded to
Undress me.  She pulled off my pants and underwear,
And then she pulled her nighty off completely.
Then, we played our old games of mock punishment
For sins committed in the past,
Until we started for her bedroom.  Then,
She whirled and asked if I would marry her
And I said, “No!”  She smiled and said, “Why then,
I will not marry you!”  And then she sent
Me home.  It was just like it had not ended,
Years ago.  She’d sent me home an hundred
Times before we consummated our
Relationship, and even then, we often
Argued and I’d leave without some satisfaction.
I think she’ll call again, but I’m not sure…

Fred’s story ended quietly while all the others did reflect on his relationship with Sam.  Roberta breaks the silence by asking if there were other weekend stories that needed to be told.  Leslie Wesley volunteers the following:

My name is Leslie Wesley and I’m new.
I’m 24 and have a secret love
Affair that’s been ongoing for a while
With Father Flanagan, the priest at Sacred
Heart.  I fell in love with him when I
Was sixteen.  He’d invited me to come
Inside his private chambers to confess
My sins.  He asked me to kneel down and face
Him while he put his hand upon my head.
I put my arms around his thighs and put
My face into his body, right below
His cross, the one that hung from his rope belt.
He pressed my head between his thighs and I
Could feel him get excited.  I did press
My lips against his groin and he responded
Even more.  I felt his member getting
Large and pointing up to Heaven.  He
Did say it was a sign of Holiness
And asked me to adjust his pointing member.
Lifting up his robe, the Holy Father
Showed a Heavenly reminder that
A priest is just a man with Holy Spirit
Guiding him.  I kissed and licked his hardening
Big thingy and he pulled my head
To him in such a way for me to take it down
My throat.  I almost choked the first time that
I did it and was startled to feel my throat fill up with warm and sticky juices from on High.  It was wonderful.  So every Sunday that I came to church with my whole family, my Holy Father Flanagan took me aside to give me special privileges with his Holy Sepulchre.  He murmured that it was the Key to Happiness and that I did possess the Holy Lock.  He showed me how to fit his Key inside my Lock by standing up and leaning over to place both my palms upon the Holy Ground of his quite Holy private chambers.  He would lift my dress up to my waist and place his Holy Key against my Holy Lock and let the Holiness begin.  It all felt really wonderful and when my Holy juices started flowing his would flow as well.  Afterward he said some Healing Power could be had by licking up the juices and enjoying them for warmth and taste.  My parents and my siblings waited patiently for us to finish all our Holy Actions.  They were pleased that I was getting special treatment by his Holiness, Our Father Flanagan.  When I conceived and started swelling with a pregnancy, my Holy Father picked a nice young man for me and married us.  My family was really pleased and didn’t do the mathematics.  They thought my son was merely premature, but I knew really that the baby had resulted when my Holy Father Flannagan had pushed the Holy Spirit into me so deeply, I could feel him squirt the Holy Spirit into my own uterus.  After my nice marriage to a nice young man that Father Flanagan had given private lessons to, I was quite honoured to be filled with Love on weekdays by my husband and to feel the Love of Father Flanagan, on Saturday evening’s and Sunday morning’s Catholic Services.  I’ve had another set of children, three by Father Flanagan and three by my own husband.  It’s the Holiness that really turns me on.  Lately, Father Flanagan has had some sessions with my husband present.  Father Flanagan has given Holy Spirits to the both of us and now my husband is as pleased as I.  Lately, also, Father Flanagan has asked permission from us to allow him to instruct our children on the Powers of the Holy Spirit.  Of course we’ve gladly given Holy Father Flanagan permission to instruct our children privately, so long as he continues to instruct the parents, too.

The other members of the Parker House had dropped their jaws when they were told how Father Flanagan had duped this lovely lady and her family.  But she was so enthusiastic and so righteous that not a one could contradict her story line to indicate that Father Flanagan was guilty of some serious abuse of Holy Power.  Some members started secretly to plan exposure of this Catholic Priest but feared it would upset their newest member, Leslie Wesley.  As a simple Schizophrenic, Leslie was quite happy and to shatter all her principles and tenets would not be healthy for her.  So, nothing more was said, in public or in private.  Besides, Leslie’s Holy Spirit was so strong, she might have not accepted any negativity toward her Holy Father, his Holy Sepulchre, and his Holy Spirit.

John Smith had not really spoken at this meeting or at any other meeting.  He looks a little like Boris Karloff, but handsomer.  This day he has been carrying a small pet carrier.  He chooses at this moment, just as the meeting is winding down in anticipation of breakfast, to open the cage and release what looks like the cutest, tiniest, all black kitten, ever seen by anyone at The Parker House.  The kitten emerges from the carrier, cautiously.  It seeks out John and rubs its jaw against his hand, as if it’s marking John for his own.

Hunter stands and grabs the kitten.  With one swift motion, he decapitates the kitten, using his sharp and scary knife.  Blood spurts everywhere, including a large splash on John Smith’s shirt.  Barbie, Jennifer and Roberta scream.  John stands and swiftly grabs the knife from Hunter, plunging it deep into Hunter’s heart.  Hunter falls across the table, dead, blood oozing from his mouth and nose.  Roberta grabs a pot of boiling water and throws it directly at John, who screams in pain as he contorts his face because he knows he will be no longer handsome, but forever scar-faced.

Exeunt.

SUGGESTIONS FOR ACTORS:

HUNTER, Jonathan should be a young Humphrey Bogart
DOLL, Barbie should be a young Meg Ryan
MAESTROIANNI, Joe should be played by Robert De Niro
TEMPTRESS, Miriam should be a young Marilyn Monroe
MATRON, Roberta should be Meryl Streep
WESLEY, Leslie should be a young Leslie Uggams
SMITH, John should be a young Boris Karloff
LITTLE, Jennifer should be a delicate Audrey Hepburn
SINATRA, Fred should be a resurrected Frank Sinatra
PLEASANCE, Ron should be an ugly Peter Lorre

This libretto should lend itself to a Short Opera with music by Giuseppe Verdi, or Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, in a translation into Old German, Liturgical Latin,  oder, oder uber, Bern Du’tsch, or the English spoken by the deceased Richard Burton, or the presently living, Maggie Smith.


THE END

© izzy sommers, md
Welland, Canada
August 31, 2013

Saturday, the last day of August
And the first day of school, next Tuesday,
After Labour Day. on Monday

August 28 was my second son’s birthday, his 47th.
September 5, will be my first son’s 51st BD;
September 9th will be my only brother’s 70th BD.
September 24th will be my only daughter’s 37th BD.

Happy birthday folks!  May all your problems be little ones.  May the roads come up to meet your feet.  May the grass be never greener than it is on this side…

AMEN AND HALLELUJAH!

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