Conspiracy? We don't need no steenking conspiracy!

A sign announces ...

SECRET CONSPIRACY OF RICH BASTARDS
an equal opportunity employer

Below the sign, we see the freaky, paranoiac image of the eye on the floating pyramid.

Below that, there's a bigass table. With a bigass meeting in progress.

That meeting is attended by MR. BURNS, RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS (aka the MONOPOLY MAN), RICHIE RICH and the MONOPOLY OCTOPUS.

MR. BURNS: Well, gentlemen. (bangs gavel) This meeting of the Secret Conspiracy of Rich Bastards is hereby called to order. Old business? Monopoly Octopus!

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS shrugs.

MR. BURNS: Excellent. New business?

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: The destruction of the middle class proceeds.

MR. BURNS: Splendid! How shall this be accomplished?

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: I defer to Richie Rich.

MR. BURNS: Very well. Richie. How do we destroy the petite bourgeoise?

RICHIE RICH: You're going to die, grandpa. And I'm gonna piss on your grave.

MR. BURNS: You're a little shit, Richie Rich. But I like the way you think. Now answer the bloody question, whippersnapper. How do we kill the middle class?

RICHIE RICH: With these, pops! (whips out credit card)

MR. BURNS: Ah! The ever-tightening vice of compound interest.

The assembly laughs.

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS: But .. why? Why give stuff away?

MR. BURNS: Why? You cretinous cephalopod! You ask why?

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: Because we shipped all the real jobs to China. Nobody's getting paid, dumbass.

RICHIE RICH: The economy should crash.

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: But a crash in the standard of living might lead to a peasant's revolt!

MR. BURNS: Yes. And the peasants are definitely revolting.

MR. BURNS looks up. No laugh. Not a titter. 

MR BURNS: The point being ... they don't actually revolt.

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS: Why not?

MR BURNS: Because the peasants don't know they're peasants. Don't you see?

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS: No. Uh. Why don't they know they're peasants?

MR. BURNS: Credit cards, you idiot! Credit cards! By means of these magical plastic lozenges, the great unwashed can magically beam money from the future! They can maintain their standard of living! Buy cars, and stereos and so on and so forth ... for a time.

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS: I still don't get it.

The assembly laughs again.

RICHIE RICH: We boil the frog, dummy.

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: Delaying the inevitable.

MONOPOLY OCTOPUS: Ah! Until the bottom drops out.

MR. BURNS: Now you're catching on!

MR. BURNS presses a button. A trap door opens beneath the MONOPOLY OCTOPUS. He falls into a boiling pit, screaming in agony. The trap door closes, cutting off his dying wails.

RICHIE RICH: Stupid octopus.

MR. BURNS: Next order of business, William Jefferson Clinton. He must be punished!

RICHIE RICH: Why, granddad? His sexual indiscretions?

MR. BURNS: No! Because we had a deal! Grease the skids for our complete domination, and we'll soften the blow for the wretched Baby Boomers. Touching medical insurance was never part of the deal!

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: I should say not, sir! That's where we keep our money!

RICHIE RICH: Yeah. State the obvious, pops. That'll keep you out of the nursing home.

RICH UNCLE PENNYBAGS: Fuck you, you little shit! Fuck you!

RICHIE RICH laughs.

MR. BURNS: Belay this squabbling! (whips out enormous paddle) Summon the miscreant!

XUDER NOXIN

(a response to Ollie Stoned's Nixon)

Open longshot, ext: the White House. Boiling clouds in a time lapse sky--a writhing maelstrom of evil right outta "Something Wicked This Way Comes," the book that is, not the dumbass movie.

The camera pulls back and we see --

That the White House is inside a glass sphere.

Pull back --

And we see a wizened old hand holding the sphere.

Pull back --

Nixon, mummified, phlebitic, hunched forward in a Craftmatic adjustible bed with oxygen tanks on one side, ziggurats of pill bottles on the other.

Extreme c.u.: Nixon's eyes.

Jump cut to --

Extreme c.u.: Nixon's mouth.

NIXON: Rosebud.

Medium shot, Nixon in bed.

C.U. -- Nixon's hand. The hand relaxes; the ball drops, shatters.

Dead stop: freeze frame. Then, Stephen Hawking style, time's arrow reverses -- the glass shards converge, vectors of motion congealing into a perfect sphere which shoots up into the hand which neatly catches the sphere.

NOXIN: Budesor.

And, now, the trip begins. Distorted, backwards-playing Roger Corman acidhead music playing to razor-cut Moviola Eisenstein mishmoshmontage of Checker's speech; G. Gordon Liddy melting into Jim West on "the Wild Wild West" melting into the Grateful Dead's Statue of Liberty shoving torch up the ass of JFK; bombs falling up; longhair on armies of freaks growing backwards; microfilm inside a pumpkin which turns out to be a human head; Linus screaming "Auuuggghh"; "the whole world is"--zzzzzt--", stronger, faster, cleaner!"; burning Cambodians; National Guard Troops shooting tiny little college students at a Funhouse Arcade; Flo and Eddie freaking out in Centerville;

Frank Zappa melting into Jerry Voorhees melting into Pat Brown melting into the Soylent Majority -- men of dust, like grey, granular snowmen, marching in perfect formation on an infinite plane, then blown away by a wind from nowhere.

Hold on the nothingness, the dust.

Oliver Stone appears dressed as Hobo Kelly; sadfaced, he sweeps up the dust into a dustpan; a spotlight holds on the dust, diminishes, until the Stone Clown sweeps up the last fragments of light as well and there is nothing but darkness.

NOXIN: Thgil eb ereht tel.

The rest is Soylent.

Morton Downer Junior

Is it my imagination, or is there an entire department of the LAPD with nothing better to do than watch Robert  Downey Jr. and haul his ass to jail when he gets high?

Turds!

Original title: "Existential Honeymoon" ("Existenční líbánky")

(c) 1996 Alexei Janecek

An English-as-a-Second Language-Theatre production

DRAMATIS PERSONAE:

MAN (preferring to be played by male actor)

WOMAN (in similar way portrayed by female equivalent, wishing no offense to Caryl Churchill or Dame Edna, but is author's intent regarding nature of performance)

PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE: Characters example of newlyweds, 20something is preference, young, not ugly. Archetypal "Man" and "Woman" as implied by names "MAN" and "WOMAN." Thornton Wilder did something like this a long time ago. Or maybe Samuel Beckett?

Beginning of play or possibly film now.

Please start.

INT. INSIDE OF HALLWAY, APPARENTLY HOTEL -- IS LIGHT FROM SOMEWHERE. IT COULD BE THE MOON OR THE SUN OR A LIGHT OUTSIDE. THERE ARE NO CLOCKS ON THE WALLS SO IT CANNOT HONESTLY BE SAID IF IT IS DAY OR NIGHT. ANYWAY, BIG HALLWAY. MANY DOORS.

MAN holding WOMAN walking. Down hallway, should have said. She (WOMAN) is dressed in white dress of wedding-appropriate attire. He (MAN) is wearing what is termed "tuxedo." (Also appropriate for wedding.) The garment of the MAN is black, creating obvious contrast to the garment of the WOMAN. This is "subtext," but very important. No blue tuxedo, please.

MAN: Hello! Is time for love nesting!

WOMAN: Not breaking head, please!

MAN: No problem. Eyes closed I have requested!

WOMAN: Left and right simultaneously, puppet.

MAN struggles with burden of WOMAN through doorway. Is symbolic.

MAN: Honeymoon of dreams! Eyes opening is now permitted.

As suggested, WOMAN opens eyes. Still carrying bride, (woman also known as "WOMAN"), MAN (man known as "MAN") pushes through door of doorway. Suddenly! Turds fall on heads of MAN and WOMAN!. (PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE: Important no foreshadowing. Turds must simply fall!) MAN and WOMAN react!!!!

MAN and WOMAN: (together) Turds!

WOMAN: Shrieking and wailing!

Kicking of pretty legs.

WOMAN: Aggggh! I hate these turds! In my eyes they fall!

MAN: You took the turds right out of my mouth!

PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE: Turds, of course, should fall into his mouth. I.e.: the mouth of the MAN.

INT -- HOTEL ROOM
If play, brilliant set comprising KITCHEN, BEDROOM, BIG ROOM WITH TV like a cutaway hamster cage so the audience can see everything that happens at the same time. (Aristotelian Unity, in other words.) If movie, hotel room. 

TURDS have fallen on our heroes. Don't forget this point!

Inside HOTEL ROOM, action continues.

MAN puts WOMAN down. Quickly with hands they remove disgusting matter of excretory nature. (I.e.: turds.) This action is completed! Now? MAN and WOMAN ... Make laughter. (Mood of play or possibly film must change to not-so slapstick. Tender, possibly. Or Quentin Tarantino.) Now what?

Important story point!

Together (yet alone!), MAN and WOMAN looking around at hotel room. Not so bad! Whole place is decorated with many dead flowers and jokes about impending awkward sexual encounter and rottenness of marriage printed on shiny cards. Perhaps this is setting for happiness?

WOMAN: Philosophical attitude!

MAN: Agreed together!

MAN and WOMAN: (together) Champagne time!

WOMAN: Awaiting you in bed!

WOMAN giggles and into bedroom walks or runs removing garments.

In opposite direction, MAN into kitchen walks or runs. 

PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE: If movie, the different places inside the hotel room are created with editing in the editing process. If play, all the stupid crap is happening on stage at the same time.

INT, KITCHEN
In kitchen, MAN opens door of refrigerator in kitchen. Wow! Many things which are bad for you but appealing to senses, inside. The refrigerator. Champagne bottle is one example. (It need not be explained that friends or someone have put nice things there, as-in refrigerator, because of liking MAN or WOMAN or both of them.) MAN looks at all this stuff!

INT, BEDROOM

WOMAN in fluffy bed calls out to MAN with suggestive attitude. Nudge nudge! Wink wink! (Action is simultaneous. Unity of time, of course.)

WOMAN: Impatient, Love Cosmonaut!

MAN: Countdown for rocketship!

WOMAN: Launching pad!

Responding biologically, MAN removes champagne bottle and returns to WOMAN with bottle, also glasses, two. Running to bed! 

INT, BEDROOM

MAN: To health!
With thick fingers MAN applies leverage to pop cork of bottle with champagne inside. Turds emerge immediately -- shooting forward at MAN and WOMAN at great velocity due to pressure inside of bottle. Boyle's Law is the explanation. MAN and WOMAN are covered with ...

MAN and WOMAN: (together) Turds!

FIN!
Curtain and blackness. We have no idea what happens next!


PLAYWRIGHT'S NOTE: "Fin" is the French or possibly Italian word for "End." In Czech, the term is "Konec," but I think the English "End" is better. One syllable. A flat vowel and a hard consonant. The sound is more like death.

OK, that's it. But I am told to say these things ...

Original playscript or possibly filmscript by Alexej Janecek

Translation also by Alexej Janecek

Additional dialogue by Rayna Janecek. 

From a story suggested by Vaclav Havel

Portions of script inspired by "longformy" improv session at IMPROTŘESK 1996, taking place in Prague by lovely hilarious friends of Czech Improv Troupe, saying "Lift all the dialogue you want, it's a stupid bit anyway," to which I am indebted, as, of course, I did what they said.

Elements of earlier draft of script incorporated by permission in "Ze života hmyzu" by Jan Švankmajer. 

ESL translation originally performed in workshop session at ESL Theatre, Trenton, New Jersey, May 1, 1996. Creative input of Willem Dafoe cannot be overestimated.

All Rights Reserved, apparently

(c) 1996 Alexei Janecek

Filmed or live performance of this script or audio recording is strictly forbidden without expression permission of the author of this work. 

I know how ridiculous it is to say I am the "author" but I am told to say it.

The "Twister" song

I'm !@#$ sick of the relentless, four-wall promotions for Twister, which I haven't seen yet, tho for all I know it could be the next Battleship Potemkin. Ah, well. The Muse works in mysterious ways. All that advertising put me in mind of a shit-kicking country song, as follows:

There’s something called a Twister
It comes down from above
Sucks up your truck, your dog, your wife
And ever’thing you love
If you see it coming
You know you’re out of luck
Best bend over, kiss your butt goodbye
‘Cause sometimes nature sucks

You’ll get your arms and legs
All twisted with your neighbor’s
But this Twister ain’t no game
It’s just a case of random forces
Ain’t no one to blame
You’ll feel like Camus as you’re ripped to pieces
And sucked up in the sky
Ain’t no Wizard of Oz happy landing
That’s just a goddamn lie

Gee, Pa it’s getting awful dark
Why’d I move her to this trailer park?
Inky stinky fricky frick fack fark
Cause sometimes nature sucks!

Farter Starter

(to the tune of Prodigy's "Firestater")

I'm a farter starter,
Twisted methane lighter
I'm a farter starter,
Anal gas igniter
I'm a farter starter
Fratboy farter starter
Buttocks bomb inspired
Set my arse on fire
Hey-hey-hey
You're a farter starter
Set your balls on fire
Hey-hey-hey
I'm the twit you hated
Scorched your best wallpaper
Hey-hey-hey

Side Effects May Include

Title: Qualixinol

Shots of hot air balloons in the sky.

Sound track: "Let the Sunshine in."

Montage of people.

A smiling WOMAN in her early 20s. Neo-hippy earthmother type.

WOMAN: Life is good. But life could be better.

A robust DAD, playing with his kids. Spraying them with a water hose, etc.

DAD: I’m happy. But I could be happier.

PUNK KID: Life sucks! Why can’t every morning be like Christmas morning?

More shots of balloons.

ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) We all experience emotions. But some emotions are bad. Why not experience only good emotions, all the time? With Qualixinol, you can.

DAD waves from the balloon.

DAD: I feel great and I’m never coming down! Thanks Qualixinol!

WOMAN in field of sunflowers, grinning madly.

WOMAN: Now I’m always in a good mood! Thanks Qualixinol!

PUNK KID throws out all his grunge albums.

PUNK KID: I don't question authority anymore. Thanks Qualixinol!

ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) Ask your doctor about Qualixinol. It’s time to start feeling good. All the time.

He starts talking ridiculously fast, like an auction-caller.

ANNOUNCER: (V.O.) Qualixinol is approved for children and adults when used according to prescription. Qualixinol is non-habit forming when taken as directed. Qualixinol is ridiculously habit forming when not taken as directed. Do not operate heavy machinery while using this medication. Do not operate any machinery. Stay inside your house and lock the doors. Side effects may include explosive diarrhea, nausea, dizziness, dry mouth, wet mouth, hair loss, headache, self-importance, irritable bowel syndrome, wandering stool, increased appetite, increased weight, decreased appetite, decreased weight, no weight change at all, photosynthesis, mood changes, anxiety, panic attacks, fear of cheese and other dairy products, sensitivity to plaid, trouble sleeping, narcolepsy, flatulence in church, irritability, agitation, aggressiveness, passivity, severe restlessness, axe murder, mania, anomie, existential malaise, stigmata, mild visual and auditory hallucinations, terrifying visual and auditory hallucinations, a desire to join the Republican party, thoughts of suicide or hurting yourself, and sudden death. Patients with Eastern European ancestry may experience unusual hair and dental growth and aggressive behavior when exposed to the full moon. Some spontaneous human combustion may also occur. Ignore the voices in your head and consult your physician immediately should you experience any of these symptoms. This warning is an implied contract. By hearing this warning, you implicitly agree not to sue the EnorMed pharmaceutical company or any of its affiliates. Look at the pretty balloons!