W

hat a Farce! By KBKen Bradbury

A writer sits alone at a typewriter in the Center, reading from a book.

THE WRITER: “How to write a farce. A farce is a light theatre piece with characters and events exaggerated to produce broad, simple humor. Often slapstick elements are used for humorous effect. A type of primitive comedy.” (thinking) Hmm.. (begins to type as he speaks) The young couple dash into the McMurdo Mansion on a dark and stormy night. (Max and Lorene, a young couple, come stumbling into the playing area, carrying suitcases, and wearing their raincoats.)

MAX: Wow! What storm! I can’t believe our car broke down on a night like this!

LORENE: Where are we, Max? This place looks haunted!

WRITER: … full of improbable situations…

MAX: (bumps into the writer and his desk) Whoa! It’s Uncle Henry’s old sofa! The one he was murdered on! I got a funny feeling about this place, Lorene!

LORENE: (clinging to him fearfully) Oh Max, I’m frightened!

WRITER: … Murder is often used as a comic tool…. (A gorilla enters, wearing a Halloween mask. The gorilla shoots Max in the back. He screams and falls to the floor. The gorilla runs off.) … in addition, mystery is often employed…

LORENE: (looking in the direction of the Gorilla’s exit) I wonder who that was?

WRITER: … Sex is a common device in most farce….

LORENE: Oh gosh, I’d better cover you up, Max. All I have is this old dress! (quickly takes off her coat, then her dress, and puts it over Max’s body leaving her only in a slip)

WRITER: … Surprise is a common element…

COLONEL BLACKFORD: (a military man, entering) I say! (Surprised, Lorene screams!) Did I hear a shot?

LORENE: (trying to cover herself) Who are you?

COLONEL BLACKFORD: I’m Colonel Archibald Blackford of Her Majesty’s Royal Airforce, retired.

WRITER: … Usually, little care is given to the details of character….

(Colonel Blackford takes a hideous-looking moustache out of his pocket and slaps it crookedly upon his upper lip)

LORENE: What are you doing here?

WRITER: … coincidence is a common element…

COLONEL BLACKFORD: My wife and I…. (Mrs. Blackford, an extremely sexy young thing runs in to his side and clings to him) … were driving through the storm when our car broke down.

WRITER: … perfect timing is absolutely essential to farce… . .

(The following lines are spoken at exactly the same time, with each time the characters stopping as if they’re speaking at the wrong time)

COLONEL BLACKFORD: Whatever are you doing in your… (a pause.. who’s turn is it?) My wife and I were just. . . (pause.. the same) I don’t suppose you’d. . . . LORENE: But that’s exactly what… (a pause. . who’s turn is it?) You see my husband and I… (pause . . . the same) I don’t suppose you’d.. . .

WRITER: . . . sudden entrances and exits are the most common characteristic of the true farce. . .

COLONEL BLACKFORD: Sorry. I must be going. (he exits as Mrs. Blackford kneals down to inspect Max’s body)

LITTLE BO PEEP: (entering with staff in hand, crying) Has anybody seen my sheep?

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (entering) I’m Inspector Cummings, Scotland Yard. I was out looking for the international terrorist Pierre Von Himling but I had a strange feeling that a crazed gorilla might be on the loose so I stopped. Anybody been murdered?

LITTLE BO PEEP: Murder! (she screams and exits as Prince Simon enters)

SIR SIMON: (enters, a knight dressed in tights and tunic, sword in hand) The sheep! The sheep! We must save the sheep! (he runs off)

THE WRITER: … Mysterious characters often appear for no apparent reason. . .

UNCLE FERNWOOD: (a very old and crippled man, enters on a cane.. He grabs his chest and collapses near the writer’s desk, or if room, over the writer’s lap)

WRITER: .. . Mistaken identity is a common device.

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (the gorilla enters) You must be Colonel Blackford. (the gorilla nods “yes”) Just I thought. I recognized you from the newspapers. (backing toward Max’s body) You’re all suspects. Don’t anybody leave. (Mrs. Blackford runs off.) (he falls over Max’s body)

WRITER: . . .in farce, the obvious is often overlooked. . .

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (now on the floor with the body in front of him) Anybody seen the body? (Both Lorene and the gorilla shake their heads “no”) Stay right where you are. There’s somethin’ funny goin’ on here!

COLONEL BLACKFORD: (entering) I say! What’s all the ruckus?

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: Who are you?

COLONEL BLACKFORD: Colonel Archibald Blackford, of Her Majesty’s Royal Airforce, retired.

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: That’s impossible. (indicating the gorilla) He says he’s Colonel Blackford of Her Majesty’s Royal Airforce, retired. And… great Scott!… you both look alike!

COLONEL BLACKFORD: (looking at the gorilla) Astounding! (to the Gorilla) Were you at Oxford?

LORENE: He’s got a gun!

WRITER: … In the typical farce, exaggerated reactions are quite common ..

(Colonel Blackford and Inspector Cummings simultaneously shout “Oh no!” and faint)

LITTLE BO PEEP: (running in) Oh no! (she faints)

WRITER: .. and one cannot overemphasize the importance of improbability…

LORENE: (holding her arms out to the gorilla) Daddy! (The gorilla opens his arms to her and they embrace) But why did you shoot Max? (The gorilla mumbles and gesticulates something to indicate what she’s about to say) You knew that he had brought me here to kill me? (Gorilla nods and gestures & growls some more) You knew that he’d only married me for my inheritance? (Gorilla nods) Oh, my heart is broken, daddy! I no longer want to live! (The gorilla shrugs, pulls his gun and shoots her. She falls to the floor. )

MAX: (wakes, groggily) What’s going on? (the gorilla runs off)

PRINCE SIMON: (running in) We must save the sheep! (he runs to Max and grabs him by the lapels) What have you done with them?

MAX: (grabbing his own arm, painfully) Easy! That hurts! I’ve been shot!

PRINCE SIMON: Max!

MAX: Peter! My brother!

WRITER: Slowly, the implausible situations begin to clear themselves up . . .

MAX: Peter! I haven’t seen you since they day we were separated at birth on the Titanic!

PRINCE SIMON: Max! My long, lost brother!

MAX: I thought you drowned!

PRINCE SIMON: And I thought you were eaten by sharks!

WRITER: . . . remember, the more unlikely, the better. . .

PRINCE SIMON: Mother was washed overboard just as she was giving birth to us and one of us fell into the lifeboat while the other was carried out to sea by a freak tidal wave!

WRITER: . . the exaggerations should be stretched to the limit for maximum comedy. . .

PRINCE SIMON: Not knowing which one was me, I clung to the overcoat of a rich Bulgarian industrialist who raised me as his own, showered me with wealth, had a sex change and became my mother while standing in line to be made Queen of Portugal! That’s why I’m looking for sheep!

MAX: Oh.

WRITER: . . but the writer should be careful to not wander completely into the absurd…

PRINCE SIMON: Actually I’m lying. I just like to wear tights and scare people.

MRS. BLACKFORD: (running in) Where’s my husband? (sees him lying on floor, runs to him) Mortimer! Oh, Mortimer!

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (waking and rising to a sitting position) You mean he’s not Colonel Archibald Blackford of Her Majesty’s Royal Airforce, retired?

MRS. BLACKFORD: No! He’s Mortimer Perriwinkle Rogers, former first mate on the U.S.S. Titanic!

PRINCE SIMON: Egads!

WRITER: . . the farce must run headlong toward a furious resolution!….

COLONEL BLACKFORD (WHO IS ACTUALLY MORTIMER PERRIWINKLE ROGERS): (waking and rising) Sweetheart!

LORENE: (waking groggily) Uncle Mortimer?

WRITER: . . it builds and builds.. . .

MRS. BLACKFORD (WHO IS ACTUALLY NOT): You hussy!

LORENE: You tramp! You married uncle Mortimer!!!

COLONEL BLACKFORD/PERRIWINKLE: (indicating Lorene) Who’s she?

MRS. BLACKFORD/PERRIWINKLE: My sister! Wait ‘til daddy finds out you’re here!

LORENE: Which daddy?

MRS. BLACKFORD/PERRIWINKLE: The hairy one.

LORENE: He knows. He tried to kill me. Were it not for my steel-plated brassiere made from pieces of the hull that Mama scavenged from the Titanic, I’d be dead as I speak! Take this, sister! (and she pulls a gun from her brassiere and shoots Mrs. Blackford/Perriwinkle)

MRS. BLACKFORD/PERRIWINKLE: (is blown back a step, then rips her top off to reveal a shiny, metallic, halter top) Aha! Mama had some left over!

WRITER: .. If a farce is staged in the round, it’s important that sight lines not be cluttered…

MAX: It’s an earthquake! (and they all stumble to the floor)

LORENE: We’re all going to die!

MAX: (crawling over to her) Forgive me, sweetheart! Yes, I was going to kill you for your fortune but now I’ve learned to love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life! (they embrace)

WRITER: … things must be resolved quickly in farce…….

PRINCE SIMON/PETER: (to Mrs. B/P) My dear, since we’ve been on this floor together, I’ve learned to love you like I’ve never loved anyone in my life!

MRS. BLACKFORD/PERRIWINKLE: But I’m married to Mortimer! (Prince Simon/Peter takes Lorene’s gun and shoots the Colonel.) (The Prince and Mrs. B/P embrace)

WRITER: … all loose ends must be tied up. . . .

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (peering into the Colonel’s dead face) Great Scott! It’s the notorious criminal Pierre Von Himling who’s famous for luring hordes of strangers into deserted mansions, confusing them with outrageous plots, ridiculous circumstances, then murdering them all in their sleep. (to Prince Simon/Peter) You’ve saved us all! God save the Queen!

ALL: God save the Queen!

(And Mrs. B/P leaves arm and arm with the Prince, Alex with Lorene, and the Inspector drags the dead body of Uncle Fernwood out of the playing area)

INSPECTOR CUMMINGS: (talking to the corpse) Sorry, old chap, but we couldn’t work you into the plot. Time limits, you know.

BO-PEEP: (after they’re gone, throwing a royal hissy fit) What about my sheep!

(The gorilla enters, pulls a sheep out of his costume, lifts Bo-Peep into his arms and they exit.)

WRITER: (looks at what he’s written, tears it out of the typewriter, crumples it, and throws it to the floor.. He then turns a page in his book and reads…) “How to write a musical comedy….”

(The gorilla enters and shoots the writer.) THE COLENEL: (rising and dragging the writer’s body offstage.) We don’t do musical comedy.

PAGE 1