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Post by Bara on Jul 3, 2009 16:22:38 GMT -5
The little pansy face and the two paws of the littlest author are peeping over the top of the pail.
"It goes like this," quavers the littlest author... "LIGHTING?!"
ACT III : Scene 1
(Eva Cassidy's 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow" is carried by 'strings' only. In the Lighting Box, technicians are falling over each other, flicking switches, tripping trip-switches, tripping each other .....)
Eventually, a rainbow cuts the stage from top right to down left. The audience gasps...
AUDIENCE : GASP!!!
Flown from the gods, comes .... LA BABE! (Looking a little odd, because she's covered to the pasterns in rainbow. It's in her contract.)
The bluebird is flitting about, twittering 'There's a bluebird on my shoulder'. La Babe is irritatedly trying to swat it away.
Dakota is repeatedly smacking her forehead on the seat in front of her.
The cats, Canadian and Michigan, are in a heated discussion with Wardrobe, who is throwing a hissy fit. I think someone said it was about diamante collars. I don't know.
The horses, oblivious, are practicing their big production number. "NO! NO!" shouts the choreographer, brandishing her lunge lines and dressage whips. "Shoulder IN!"
The dogs are still playing poker. Boo, confused by his poorly paw, is now paying 19's.
WRONG PLAY! Shouts everyone.
Cypress has descended to stage level. There's now a fog of dry ice roiling up around her knees. Dakota, by now, is sucking her blanky and crying for her mother. But she rallies ..
"Follow Spot," she whimpers into her intercom. The Spotlight follows Cypress across the stage (being careful to keep her lower legs in shadow.)
La Babe is now wearing a maneful of flowers, carefully placed there by the pesky bluebird. She looks very fetching. Cypress halts centre stage. She strikes a humble - yet STRIKING - 'noble horse' attitude.
"I had a farm in Africa ..."
"WRONG PLAY!!!"
Happy birthday, Ann, from the cast and crew of 'Boo on Steroids'!
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Post by Goalie on Jul 4, 2009 7:59:27 GMT -5
Suddenly the spotlights dim and out of the corner of the stage comes Peanut and as he gingerly makes his way across the stage the music lowers and he says" Now we are moving this stage production across the ocean and going to be starring on "Broadway" !!!!!!!"
"We received the official notice today that the producers love the atmosphere of 3 plays in one, or however many it is at this time and want us to take it on the road. "
"Packing must begin at once and we must be ready to leave for the cruise liner that we will be traveling in. The one catch is that we must perform on the liner for at least 3 nights. Are we up for it?"
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Post by Bara on Jul 4, 2009 8:31:18 GMT -5
(HA! HA! ;D )
The entire cast and crew are assembled on the docks at Southampton. It's chaos. There are boxes, steamer trunks, cabin bags containing alfalfa, deep-frozen mice, hambones, bird-seed ...
La Babe has refused to step out of her limousine, as yet. It's a heat-wave and everyone is becoming a tad irritable. The Bluebird is twittering (!) about 'own back yard'. The kittens are trying to fathom out the lettering on the label on their pail ... "N-o-t w-a-n-t-e-d o-n v-o-yage.." spells out the littlest author from an upside down position. "Oh, ok! I guess that means choicest morsels?" he says to his pail-mates. Everyone settles down and starts purring.
Dakota is stalking around, juggling three - no, FOUR clipboards. Her ears are flat, which makes it difficult for her to pull out the pencil which is clamped behind her right ear.
Make-up and Lighting are still having a full and frank discussion, but they have had the decency to remove it to the end of the pier. Wardrobe is concerned that he won't find the fur he needs in NY.
Advertising is clamped to his cell-phone, speaking to Broadway.
Forry is muttering 'Show - glow - go - snow"
Peanut is the only one trying to help Dakota to get everyone into their correct cabins with their correct room-mates ..
"Oy-veh," mourns P'nut. "The ARK was easier than this!"
"WAIT!" Cries Boo, cutting across the wild chatter. Even Dakota pauses in her frenzied organisational mode.
Everyone stares at Boo.
"Look." He says. They all SHUT UP and follow his gaze. There, stencilled on the bow and the stern of their vessel is the name of their ship ....
'THE TITANIC'
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Post by Bara on Jul 10, 2009 6:52:57 GMT -5
Everyone has been allocated a cabin, a cabin mate or mates, luggage has been stowed, Dakota is now in the bar, sipping a long, cool, Tom Collins.
There's a bluebird on her shoulder.
"Bugger OFF!" she growls.
"No, but - yeah, but.." Cheeps the Bluebird. "It's the sleeping arrangements? Should I really be berthed with Da Lip?" Dakota glances down to the large, evilly grinning Cheshire cat at her feet
"Probably not," she says, wearily. She scribbles a note on her scratch-pad, tears off a copy and the Bluebird takes it in his beak.
"Fwaff ay du nu?! Asks the bird, through the paper.
"What you do now, is take it to the purser," replies Dakota. "He will allocate you a more suitable room to accommodate you and your rainbow, without natural predators."
"Cheep, whistle, tweet?"
"Oh," Says Dakota. "Yes, the purser is ...." she closes one eye and scrutinises her list. "...someone called Da Lip.. Oh dear."
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Post by adcooper on Jul 11, 2009 11:36:40 GMT -5
The Babe is in her private stateroom, humming tunes from HMS Pinafore. She wonders if her secretary has informed the director of her desire to perform the comic operetta. She can pass for Josephine "The Lass that loved a Sailor," but she isn't sure if Forry (as able seaman Rackstraw) can carry his tunes. He probably doesn't even know the words to "Oh Joy, Oh Rapture Unforseen." But she's heard him humming Rule Britannia and he's not terribly off key, so perhaps he's up to the role of adoring suitor after all.
The Babe blushes, then shakes of the weakness of any foolish romantic notions. Ah, "Sorry Her Lot Who Loves Too Well," she whispers. She does feel sorry. Almost sad. Nearly queasy. The sea does seem a bit rough. But never mind, she'll just take a little nap here in her berth.
How sweet, they've placed sugar-coated hay cubes on the pillow. And is that a bucket of champagne on the dresser?!
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Post by Bara on Jul 12, 2009 4:06:03 GMT -5
Dakota is on her second Com Tollins, err, Rom Follins, err - too much....
Now that La Babe has changed the programme, she thinks she needs to re-cast the leading man. Forry can't sing. She has heard him fervently wishing that 'Brittania Rules the Waves' - but even he isn't convinced. But then, he's Belgian. Which is ALMOST French, Niaru.
"Teddy?" Wonders Dakota. "P'nut?" No, no, he has a wonderful singing voice, but he's too short. He and Cypress will look like Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson. Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. No.
She feels a moment of panic and orders a third Mim Wollings. Da Lip firmly removes it. They are due to perform this very night!
Suddenly she hears a voice like an Equine Angel (tenor). Who can it be? She tips her glass out and stands, scenting the stifling air on the ship.
THAT is her leading man. The very model of a modern Major General.
"Bluebird? I have a little note, " she says, getting a bit confused, "FETCH!'
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Post by Bara on Jul 12, 2009 6:40:47 GMT -5
The bird is back in a wing-beat.
"It's in your own backyard," he says. Dakota squints at him, wary of cliche.
"It's Billy," explains the bird. "He's the perfect tenor...."
They pause and hear a soaring whinny .. "CHAMPION - the WONDER horse!"
Dakota claps her paws, instantly sobered. "ALL CAST AND CREW. Rehearsal - 10 minutes - below decks."
She turns to Da Lip, the bluebird, Forry and everyone, handing out a script for HMS PINAFORE (I don't think I'll ever forgive you for this, Ann).
"Quick! copies for everyone, PLEASE. ORCHESTRA?"
An elderly TB wanders into the confusion. He is wearing flamboyant blanket, halter. Though elderly, he moves like a colt. The company draw a breath, it is the legendary equine producer from Chicago...
"Can I help?" He drawls.
The Babe is the first to move forward.
"Flynn?" she breathes, confronted with her hero. Flynn nods.
"Oh, yes, PLEASE!" Barks Dakota ...
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Post by Bara on Jul 15, 2009 9:31:16 GMT -5
"Anyhooo," whinnies Flynn. "Everyone's a critic. PLACES EVERYONE, please!" He claps (sorry, CLOPS) his hooves.
The audience is entranced, the curtain slowly rises, the opening bars begin ..
On-stage, the cats are deployed down-left. The dogs (contained in a decorated cage) down-right. Boo, now wearing an eyeshade and a couple of sleeve ring thingies is paying out on Gun-Rummy....
From the gods, The Babe, wreathed in flowers, is being swung down on a swing circa Rennaissance.
The orchestra strikes up 'OLIVER!' (Never before has a boy asked for more..) Two of the dogs leap up and start howling along.
La Babe, thinking on her hooves as they touch the stage, launches into 'SallEE, Sallleeee, KUWEEN of our Alleee..'
True PRO (!!) that she is.
The Katz rally and fall in behind her with a rousing chorus of 'Gotta pick a pocket or two ... yoooo'
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Post by Bara on Jul 17, 2009 4:38:43 GMT -5
"Typical," thinks Boo, lying in the wings (where everyone is tripping over him as they try to get to the props table.)
He's peering under the curtain to a sparse audience. A mixed bag of species, but only about 4 or 5 of them in total; looking embarrassed and afraid to leave their seats in the stateroom to join the party at the Captain's manger.
La Babe is extremely uncomfortable perched on her rainbow in the gods, awaiting her entrance, whilst what is left of the rest of the cast is performing a ragged version of HMS Pinafore crossed with Oliver! Cypress has changed her mind, yet again, and the orchestra don't know they're in for 'Don't Cry For Me, Argentina'. They should have been alerted by the blonde mane-wig.
The horses are stumbling through their musical ride ... err, production number. There's a dog-fight going on back-stage.
The cats are missing - well, it is evening and their are ship-rats to be taken care of.
Forry, wearing a magnificent Western saddle (of which he is extremely proud) is standing in the wings muttering 'Last round-up ? Most wound up? Horse stand up?" No-one has told him.
Lexie is in the bar with Dakota, paw round her neck and saying things like : "Do you think you should? It won't help." And trying to remove the Fom Spallins glass from Dakota's rigid paw.
The curtain rings down on the final scene. There is a deathly hush.
The cast all form up on stage - hoof in paw in claw - grins fixed for their curtain call.
There is still a deathly hush. Eventually there is a sort of rustling from the auditorium. Then, a slow hand/hoof/paw-clap is heard (or herd) and : 'BOOH! BOOH! BOOH!'
Boo misunderstands. His eyes light up and before anyone can stop him, he has slipped through the curtain to take his curtain call.
Then, someone shouts : 'ICEBERG!'
THE END
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Post by Goalie on Jul 17, 2009 8:17:04 GMT -5
"APPLAUSE, APPLAUSE..... someone from the back of the liner shouts BRAVO and herds everyone into the lifeboats.
Boo says very softly......"Who wants to play ball?"
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