In the Green Room, things are not peaceful.
Sal is curled up in a corner of the room, clutching his knees. Tears are running down his cheeks; he’s a diagram of woe. He seems to be having an interactive experience with the floor. “It’s dark, it’s all dark down there,” he’s saying.
“Why’s it so dark? I need to go there, where it’s all dark, I need to find him!”
Tony’s batting at the air. “Back! Back!” he’s shouting. “Stay away from me!”
Sebert appears to believe he’s covered with insects, or some other form of many-legged life. “Get them off me!” he’s babbling. “Spiders!”
Sensible Lonnie has barricaded himself behind the table and is keeping out of their way.
—
“You sure you maybe didn’t overdo it?” says 8Handz. “With the grapes? This is, like, over the top.”
“I followed the instructions,” says Felix. He wanted anguish, and he’s got it.
But should drug-induced anguish really count? And what are the side effects, and how long do they last? “How many minutes left to go on our official video?” he says. “The one playing in the cells, and for the Warden’s party?”
8Handz consults the time. “Should be about two-thirds through,” he says.
“We need to speed this thing along,” says Felix. “Cue Stephano and Trinculo.”
“They’re ready and waiting,” says 8Handz.
The Green Room door opens, and in prance Red Coyote and TimEEz, in full costume. Their faces are painted white, with clown mouths. Coyote’s wearing his frowzy Oxfam dinner jacket, TimEEz is in the set of red flannel long johns, the bowler tilted at a jaunty angle.
“Not what I’d want to see when I’m whacked,” says 8Handz. “Personally.”
“The dignitaries don’t like it either,” says Felix. Indeed, Sal, Tony, and Sebert are backing up to the walls and staring in alarm.
“Ohh look,” says TimEEz, pointing at them. “Monstrous! Monstrous! Ew, and what a fishy smell!”
“Fishy monsters,” says Red Coyote. “I smell…corruption!”
“We could put them on show,” says TimEEz. “Gibbering lunatics. Street people. Addicts. Dregs of society. Always good for a laugh.”
“People would pay good money to see this,” says Red Coyote. “ ‘Minister of Justice in Drug-Fueled Meltdown.’ Great headline!”
“Cue the Hag-Seed dancers,” says Felix.
“Here we go,” says 8Handz.
After a moment’s pause, Caliban enters with his two backups, in matching Godzilla mashup headgear. They’ve written a new number especially for this occasion. 8Handz hits the button for the accompaniment, and the beat floods the room. Caliban begins to chant:
You been callin’ me a monster.
But who’s more monstrous than you?
You stole, you cheated, you bribed, you lied, You didn’t care who you kicked aside, You called me dirty, you called me a scum, You called me a criminal, a no-good bum, But you’re a white-collar crook, you been cookin’ the books, Rakin’ taxpayer money, we know what you took,
So who’s more monstrous
Who’s more monstrous, Who’s more monstrous than you?
Monster, monster, gonna put you on show, Monster, monster, from your head to your toe, Monster, monster, so the world’s gonna know Just what a monster you are!
We know what you took! White-collar crook!
White-collar crook! We KNOW what you took!
“Demons!” shrieks Tony.
“I’m a monster!” Sal wails. He hides his face in his hands.
“What do they know?” says Sebert, looking wildly around. “Who told them?
It was a legitimate expense!”
“Gentlemen, gentlemen!” pleads Lonnie from behind the table. “Get ahold of yourselves!”
—
“I know they’re assholes and they’re trying to snuff our Players, but this is too sick even for me,” says 8Handz. “It’s beyond a bad trip, they’re scared shitless.”
“It’s part of the plan. Anyway, they had it coming,” says Felix.
“Don’t you feel sorry for them?” says 8Handz.
All this time Miranda has been hovering behind him—a shadow, a wavering of the light—though she’s been silent: there haven’t been any lines she’s needed to prompt. But now she whispers, I would, sir, were I human. She’s such a tender-hearted girl.
Has 8Handz heard her? No, but Felix has. “Hast thou,” he says, “which art but air, a touch, a feeling of their afflictions, and shall not myself be kindlier moved than thou art?”
“Are we back in the play?” says 8Handz. “Am I supposed to say, ‘I would, sir, were I human’?”
“No, it’s fine,” says Felix. “Just muttering. But you’re right, that’s enough vengeance. Not a frown further. Time to reel them in. Cue the Goblins.”
I’ll fetch them, sir, Miranda whispers. Do you love me, Master?
