Thursday, February 18, 2016

Mr. Wimbledy - Act VI

ACT VI
...

Not entirely in a North Dakotian bistro. It is sunny and warm. Birds are released into auditorium.

MR. WIMBLEDY
I got something for you, Son Boy.

Mr. Wimbledy places a cat-shaped package on the counter. It meows. Son Boy excitedly unwraps it.

SON

MR. WIMBLEDY
I thought you would like it.

SON
Pipipsy, I have a question.

MR. WIMBLEDY
What is it, dear boy? Do you not like your gift?

SON
No, it's everything I've ever wanted...

MR. WIMBLEDY
Goood.

SON
 But, besides that...why did you adopt me, Pipipsy?

MR. WIMBLEDY
I suppose I should let you in on a little secret, Son.

An obese man somersaults over to the table. He burps and two very long waiters crawl from his gullet.

WAITER 1
?
WAITER 2
today

WAITER 1
we,

WAITER 2
are

WAITER 1
How

MR. WIMBLEDY
Fine, thanks.

WAITER 2
?

WAITER 1
order

WAITER 2
to

WAITER 1
you

WAITER 2
Do

WAITER 1
want

WAITER 2
yet

MR. WIMBLEDY
We'll take two browns.

WAITER 2
wel

WAITER 2
Very

WAITER 2
l

WAITER 2
. We w

WAITER 2
ill be

WAITER 2
moment.

WAITER 2
back

WAITER 3
in

WAITER 2
just

The waiters crawl back into the obese man, and he rolls away.

MR. WIMBLEDY
(Wistfully) Anyways, Son, I picked you because - because...

Son Boy leans in to listen. Mr. Wimbledy begins to cry and snap his hands.

SON
What is it, Pipipsy?

 MR. WIMBLEDY
You are very special to me Son Boy. For I have never had such a Son before. My life has been a very arduous and clammy life.

SON
Why, oh why why Pipipsy?

Mr. Wimbledy calms down and begins stroking his eyelashes, milking them. The milk drops on his cheeks. 

MR. WIMBLEDY
I'm not sure if I'm ready to tell you about my past yet. Perhaps...perhaps another time. It is not something for pure ears such as yours.

SON
I am not so innocent, Pipipsy!

MR. WIMBLEDY
(Laughing) Oh is that so? And why is that, my boy?

SON
I have heard toilet songs.

MR. ASTONISHEDDY
Son.

SON
Yes, Pipipsy?

MR. ENRAGEDDY
Son Boy.

SON
Yes?

MR. OKAYDY
(Laughs) That is alright, my boy! Toilets are one of many things you must educate yourself with over the coming years. Growing up is a long, salubrious, loquacious process of which your boyhood will be slowly whiddidled.

SON
What do you mean, Pippi?

MR. WIMBLEDY
As you grow older, the many viscicles of your body will effervesce, undulate, convulse, retract, extract, radiate, bend, twist, pull, push, squeeze, swell, bleed, inflate, detach, reattach, wink, blink, rise, fall, quar, quilt, sweep, swell, swipe, sweat, break and bond and bing and bong- all culminating in a violent pubescent explosion in your teen years - where all of your appendages and features will pop and bang and boom into a sort of biological fireworks display. 

Son Boy stares wide eyed and afraid. He has poopled.

MR. WIMBLEDY
But not to fear my boy! You see I made it through? Everyone almost always does.  

SON
I am full of jam, Pipipsy!

MR. WIMBLEDY
You often are, my querulous little gutter. For now you are fine.

SON
If you say so, Pipip.

The waiters return, this time by the folds of the obese man. He has a hat now. Have stage hands watch hat carefully.

WAITER 1

WAITER 2
Here'

WAITER 1
s

SHERPA
y-your

WAITER 2
gentlemen

WAITER 1
.

The plates are set on the table with utmost care. Mr. Wimbledy stares at the plates.
 
MR. WIMBLEDY
These are not what we ordered.

End of Act VI.

(Act VIII coming soon.)