NOTICE: Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda is a copyright of Tribune Entertainment. Hamlet is a copyright of William Shakespeare (just try to check on that one!) This story is a work of fan fiction parody, and is not for sale in any form.
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Robert John Burke Presents
A Slightly Surreal Production --- A Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda Fanfic
(Sorta) William Shakespeare’s
Harperlet
Dramatis Personae
TYRIUS (Tyr Anasazi), King of Tarn-Vedra
HARPERLET (Seamus Harper), son to the late, and nephew to the present King
ANDROMEDA (Rommie), Queen of Tarn-Vedra, and mother to Harperlet
REV POLONIUS (Rev Bem), Lord Chaimberlain
TRANCEPHILIA (Trance Gemini), daughter to Polonius
KING DYLAN THE GOOD (Dylan Hunt), the Ghost of Harperlet’s father
BEKARATIO (Beka Valentine), friend to Harperlet
RHADETES (Gaheris Rhade), son to Polonius
DAWNENCRANTZ and TWILIGHTSTERN, two Than courtiers
GERENTEXRIC, another courtier
RAFECELLUS, an officer and brother to Beka
KHALIDBRAS, Prince of Norway
XAX, a giant pig and also a gravedigger
and
A BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE WE DON’T CARE ABOUT
*****
ACT ONE
Scene I-- A platform before the High Castle of Tarn-Vedra
RAFECELLUS is running a shell game for two hapless Vedran soldiers. Enter BEKARATIO.
Rafe: Watch closely, now, friends, watch closely... the pea is not under here, and not under here... Here is the little pea. Now, round and round they go...
Beka: Rafe! What have I told you about gambling on duty?
Rafe: Umm... always split my winnings with you, fifty-fifty?
Beka: Besides that! (Aside) And it’s sixty-forty...
Rafe: All right, all right. Go on, guys, beat it. The heat’s on.
Exit the Vedrans.
Beka: So, Rafe, I notice it’s struck twelve, and no sign of anything out of the ordinary...
Rafe: Sure, fine. Don’t listen to your smarter brother. But I’m telling you, Beka, last night of all, when yon same star that’s westward from the pole had made his course to illume that part of heaven where now it burns...
Beka: Huh?
Rafe: Sheesh, turn off your disks and read once in a while! I said, I’ve seen it twice now, at this time of night.
Beka: Uh-huh.
Enter DYLAN’S GHOST, directly behind Beka.
Beka: So what did it look like?
Rafe: Well, he’s kinda tall... long hair, piercing eyes... looks like a Greek god or something.
Beka: Oh, sure... I’m just supposed to believe the ghost of King Dylan just walked up to you-- twice-- and...
Dylan: Boo.
Beka (turns): Holy crap! It’s the ghost of King Dylan!
She blasts it with her laser gun, but there is no effect.
Rafe: Oh, brilliant move, Valentine! Got any other bright ideas like that one?
Beka: Yup. See ya, wouldn’t want to be ya!
She runs.
Rafe: Get back here and speak to it!
Beka: You speak to it!
Rafe: Let’s get Harper to speak to it.
Beka: Sounds like a plan.
Scene II-- A room of state in the castle
Enter KING TYRIUS, QUEEN ROMMIE, HARPERLET, REV POLONIUS, RHADETES, and A BUNCH OF OTHER PEOPLE WE DON’T CARE ABOUT.
Tyr: I just want you all to know how sad I am that poor old King Dylan is dead. It’s even worse that I had to put the ol’ double helix on his beautiful wife. (Snickers) But no, really, it’s a tragedy.
Rhade: Yeah, yeah, that was a pretty smooth move... but remember, I’m still the first Nietzschean.
Tyr: Ah, but I must be better, because I get a large role that’s thoroughly Nietzschean, whereas you got stuck playing some pissant little son of a Magog, ‘cause there was nobody else left.
Rhade: Oh, right, you’re such an Alpha, I’m sure. Hey, mind if I blow this dump? I’d rather be in France than in this sorry play.
Tyr: (Aside) Hmm... If he leaves, I’ll be the only Nietzschean male for miles, plus I’ll only have these sorry humans to threaten me. (to Rhade) Well, if your father doesn’t mind...
Rev: Actually, I...
Tyr: Shut up, old man. Best of luck to ya, Rhadetes. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Rhade: I’m so out of here.
Exits.
Tyr: Now, then, where’s that stunted little spawn of my genetically inferior bro... ahem, I mean, where’s my dear son Harperlet?
Harper: Bite me, Dad.
Rommie: Harper, are you still depressed? Geez, get over it! Just because your father died and your hated uncle married his wife and I’m playing your mother even though you actually built my humanoid form, which kind of makes you your own grandfather, and... wait. Where was I going with this?
Harper: I think you were on ‘Get over it.’
Rommie: Right. (Aside, to the author) By the way, Where do you get off making me play such a frelling moron? Trance is supposed to be the ditz! I’m the ass-kicker! (to Harper) Anyway, don’t leave Tarn-Vedra, huh?
Harper: I can’t go anyway. Tarn-Vedra’s cut off from the Slipstream, remember?
Rommie: Oh, right.
Tyr: So you’re staying, are you, you blasted little... I mean, it’s sure wonderful to have you here, "son." Maybe we can play some catch later. (Aside) In traffic. (to Rommie) Well, come on, my Queen-- let’s go engage in some... genetic propagation.
Exits, chuckling.
Rommie: (Aside, to the author) You’ll pay for this.
Exit all but HARPER.
Harper: Okay, to recap... the universe hates me. I’m dealing with it, but geez. If I find just one more bone-spur clipping in the carpet...
Oh, and don’t even get me started on ‘Mom.’ Besides the totally weird oedipal issues raised by this casting... (Aside, to the author) Not that I don’t appreciate a starring role, for once... What happened to her monster crush on Dylan, huh? One second she’s getting weepy ‘cause he calls her a robot, the next she’s falling all over Tyr, of all people...
Rommie (From Off): You obviously haven’t seen Tyr in chain mail.
Harper: Whoa! Way too much information! (Aside) So anyway, this is my father’s brother, but no more like my father than I to Hercules... actually, my father was Hercules... Whatever. I’m seriously bummed out.
Enter BEKA and RAFE.
Beka: Well, if it isn’t the Little Professor!
Harper: Beka! Just who I needed to see! Want to get a couple of brews? I’m having, like, the worst week ever...
Beka: Yeah, I heard about that whole uncle-marries-mother thing. Weird.
Harper: You know what’s really weird? I can still see good old Dylan, just like he was standing right in front of me.
Rafe: Actually, um, that’s a real possibility.
Harper: Huh?
Beka: Well, we kinda saw your father’s ghost.
Harper: This is your way of getting back at me, isn’t it? You’re still mad because I’m playing the title character and you’re just the trusty sidekick!
Beka: Are you kidding? This role rocks! For one thing, I don’t have to die in the end.
Harper: Whoa, wait a minute! Somebody dies in this play?
Rafe: (to Beka) Doesn’t anybody on your ship ever read? No wonder I outsmarted you all...
Harper: This, I’ve got to see.
Rafe: But what if the ghost is dangerous?
Harper: Relax, you’re working with a genius now. I’ll just rig up a multiphasic trap, zap the sucker with an antiproton beam, and...
Beka: Harper, you spaz! That’s what you’d do in Ghostbusters! This is literature-- you just have to talk to it!
Harper: That works, too.
They Exit.
Scene III-- A room in Rev’s house.
Enter RHADETES and TRANCEPHILIA.
Rhade: Wonderful. First I have to be the hotheaded brother, now I’m off to France even though there is no France on Tarn-Vedra, and now I have to play a scene with a purple valley girl.
Trance: Oh, c’mon, it’ll be fun!
Rhade: Yeah, yeah. Anyway, don’t hang around that Harper kid-- he’s a punk.
Trance: Go on.
Rhade: That’s all.
Trance: That’s the whole scene?
Rhade: We’re on a schedule here. Look, here comes Dad.
Enter REV.
Rev: Son, I’d like to talk to you about the benefits of Wayism. Do you ever ask yourself, ‘Why can’t I have a personal relationship with the Divine?’ Well, now...
Rhade: Well, what do you know? Time I was going...
Rev: Oh, give me a minute, now! This is my big scene! Let’s see, um, don’t take any wooden nickels. Always buy low, sell high. Never draw to an inside straight. Don’t give in to the Dark Side of the Force. Oh, and to thine own self be true.
Trance: Well, um... that last one was pretty good!
Rev: I came up with that one myself.
Rhade: Now can I go?
Rev: (sighs) Kids. Always so ungrateful. You provide for them, you sacrifice, you give them everything...
Rhade: As I understand the concept of Magog parenthood, if you were really my father, you’d have paralyzed my mother, laid eggs on her prone body, allowed her to die a painful death, then moved on like a hungry locust...
Rev: Work with me here, boy! The concept is the same!
Trance: Don’t mind Rhade. He’s just grouchy because he didn’t get to play Claudius.
(Rhade sits down on the bed, bursting into tears)
Rhade: I put everything into that character! The author said I gave the most powerful performance since Sir Derek Jacobi!
Rev (to Trance): He gets this from your mother’s side of the family.
Rhade: Oh, what’s the use?
Exits.
Scene IV-- The platform.
Enter HARPER, BEKA, and RAFE.
Harper: Can we get this over with, please? Important parts of my anatomy are freezing off.
Rafe: Not up to it, surfer boy?
Beka: Shut up, guys! It’s twelve!
A flourish of trumpets, within. Enter DYLAN’S GHOST, behind them.
Harper: You know, I wouldn’t mind that jerk partying all night if he didn’t have to rube everybody’s noses in it...
Dylan: Yeah, I always hated that, too.
They all jump.
Rafe: Angels of Ministers of grace defend us!
Beka: (to Dylan) Do you have to do that!?
Dylan: I’m a ghost. It’s what I do.
Harper: One of ‘em’s stealing from Rev, the other one’s stealing from Mister Spock, and between ‘em I don’t have a freaking clue what’s going on...
Beka: I think the big guy is your father’s angelic spirit. Or maybe it’s a goblin.
Harper: Angel, Goblin... it’s all good. C’mon, padre, let’s you and me have a talk.
Dylan: ‘You and I,’ Harper. Try to talk like a prince, instead of a surfer dude.
Rafe: That’s what I say...
Harper: Wow, he’s correcting my grammar just my dad would. Okay, I’ll bite. I’ll call thee Harper.
Dylan: But my name is Dylan.
Harper: I’m still calling you Harper! You got a problem with that?
Dylan: No, Harper will be fine. Can we just hurry this along? I have to be at Ebeneezer Scrooge’s place when the bell tolls one.
Exit Harper and Dylan.
Rafe: Between you and me, sis, something’s rotten in the state of Tarn-Vedra.
Beka: I think that’s just the Vedran stables...
Scene V-- Another part of the platform.
Enter DYLAN and HARPER.
Dylan: My hour is almost come, when I to sulfurous and tormenting flames must render up myself. (Aside) And they said I was just a hunk in leather!
Harper: So what’s the deal here? This isn’t gonna be another ‘restore the Commonwealth’ thing, is it?
Dylan: Nah, this one’s easy. I need you to get revenge on Tyr for me.
Harper: Oh, okay, if that's... Waitaminute! Get revenge on Tyr? Can’t I get revenge on somebody little, like maybe a Nightsider or...?
Dylan: Listen, Harper! I am thy father’s spirit, doomed for a certain time to walk the night, and for the day confined fast to fires.
Harper: Yeah, but...
Dylan: It was murder most foul! Tyr poured poison in my ears...
Harper: Wow, how’d that happen?
Dylan: Don’t ask. Anyway, he killed me, he took my kingdom, he took my wife, he took my ship, he even took the last can of Who hash! And I didn’t get even get to pray first, so now I’m basically screwed for eternity! Now, no son of mine would stand for that!
Harper: Yeah, but Tyr? I mean, he’s freakin’ huge!
Dylan: Iolaus would have done this for me.
Harper: You always did like him best.
Dylan: No, it’s okay. I understand. I never thought you were up to his standard, anyway. I mean, Iolaus came back from the dead, and you couldn’t even bring one little person forward in time. If your old captain-- your own father-- doesn’t mean as much to you as...
Harper: All right already! I’ll whack the Nietzschean! What’s it take, huh?
Dylan: Well, when you’re done with that, you could start on the whole Commonwealth thing...
Harper: Dad!
Dylan: Oh, all right. Revenge will be fine. Just, whatever you do, leave Rommie out of it, okay?
Harper: Hey, it’s Harper, here. Do you think I’d damage that custom machine?
Dylan: Right. I forgot you created her. (sighs) Has anybody mentioned how weird this casting is?
Harper: Don’t go there.
Dylan: Well, okay, then. I guess that’s it, son. Remember to kick Tyr’s butt for me. (Aside) Killed off before the second act. My agent will be hearing about this...
Exits. Enter BEKA and RAFE.
Beka: You know, Harper, ordinarily I wouldn’t pry...
Harper: There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Beka, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
Rafe: Wow. He just put together a whole sentence without a single wisecrack, and admitted he doesn’t know everything. This is serious.
Harper: I said your philosophy, not mine. The Harper sees all and knows all. Hey... you guys wouldn’t, like, tell anybody about the whole ‘ghost’ thing, would you?
Beka: I wasn’t really planning on it.
Dylan (Disembodied voice): Swear!
Harper: Aw, quit padding your role!
Dylan (Disembodied, Aside): What’s wrong with Dylanlet, that’s what I’d like to know? Dylan and Juliet? Dylan Lear? ‘How sharper than a serpent’s tooth...’
Beka: I swear.
Rafe: Me, too.
Harper: Good on ya. Now can we go someplace warm?
They Exit.
*****
ACT TWO
Scene I-- A room in Rev’s house
Enter REV and a THAN.
Rev: So, you see, Wayism is all around us. It surrounds us, and penetrates us, and binds the galaxy together...
Than: Yes, m’lord.
Rev: Now, then; it’s time you were off to France to find out what my stupid son is up to.
Than: But m’lord, this is an alien world. There is no France here.
Rev: Well, then, I don’t care where you go; just get off the stage!
Than: Yes, m’lord.
Exits. Enter TRANCE, at a run.
Trance: Rev! Rev! Harper’s looking at me funny! Make him stooop!
Rev: Oh, that just means he likes you.
Trance: Maybe. Or maybe he’s sliding perilously close to insanity because of a visitation by his father’s ghost, which shattered his worldview and forced him to seek revenge on his maniacal, incestuous uncle.
Rev: What makes you say that?
Trance: Umm... it sounds pretty?
Rev: Oh, you and your hunches. (Aside) Next time, I’ll ask about SAT scores before I decide to lay eggs on the first purple Nietzschean I meet. (To Trance) Come, we’ll ask the King about this...
They Exit.
Scene II-- A room in the castle
Enter TYR, ROMMIE, DAWNENCRANTZ, and TWILIGHTSTERN.
Tyr: Well, if it isn’t Tweedledee and Tweedledum. I understand you’re friends of my idiot nephew?
Twilight: Nope. Never met the guy.
Dawn: But I went through a black hole with his father once.
Rommie: Close enough. Go see if you can figure out what’s bothering him.
Tyr: And then push him off a cliff...
Rommie gives him a look.
Tyr: Or not.
Exit Dawn and Twilight. Enter REV.
Rev: Good news, bad news time, Your Highness. The good news is that Norway won’t be going to war with us.
Tyr: But there is no Norway on...
Rommie: Oh, don’t start that again. Just go with it.
Tyr: All right. What’s the bad news?
Rev: The bad news is, I don’t know whether you’ve noticed, but Prince Harper is nutty as a fruitcake.
Tyr: You’re right, he is. I wonder what’s wrong with him?
Rommie: Do you think, just possibly, it could be that we got married like the day after his father died?
Tyr: I’m a Nietzschean. We work fast. (to Rev) Any other ideas?
Rev: Well, as we Wayists say, brevity is the soul of wit. In fact, I was just talking about brevity the other day, when I was...
Rommie: You want to speed this along, Obi-Rev? My batteries are running low. What’s up with the kid?
Rev: Well, ‘tis a pity, but... I sense much fear in him. Fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to...
Tyr draws his gun.
Tyr: If you say ‘Kevin Bacon,’ so help me, there’ll be a want ad for your job in tomorrow’s paper.
Rev: (in a rush) Harper’s got the hots for my daughter, Trance. Look, I caught them passing notes in class. See?
Rommie takes a paper from Rev’s hand and reads.
Rommie: ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day...’ This is good!
She whacks Tyr over the head with the rolled-up paper.
Rommie: How come you never send me stuff like this?
Tyr: We work fast, and we don’t do romance.
Rev: Rhade and I tried to keep them apart, but apparently it descended into real Romeo and Juliet territory.
Rommie: (Aside, to the Author) Romeo and Juliet! Now, that I could have done! ‘Wherefore art thou, Dylan-- Harper-- whoever?’ But no, I have to be the stupid Queen and get it on with stupid Tyr... (takes another look at Tyr) Okay, so it’s not all bad news...
Rev: Okay, so here’s the plan... We’ll get the little lovebirds together, send them to the movies or something, (small voice) My daughter will become princess, (louder) and balance will be restored to the Force.
Rommie: Your Yoda act may be getting old, but I like the plan.
Tyr: Can’t I just blow them up?
Rev: Look, here he comes! Am-scray, you two! I’ll handle this.
Exit Tyr and Rommie. Enter HARPER.
Rev: Harper! Prince Harper! Do you know me, my Lord?
Harper: Hmm... wait a minute... I know the profile... are you a fruit bat?
Rev: No, m’lord.
Harper: Swamp Thing, maybe?
Rev: No, m’lord.
Harper: You’re not one of those damn Ewoks, are ya?
Rev: Oh, for the Divine’s sake! I’m Lord Chaimberlain!
Harper: Yeah, and I’m the Duke of Earl. Now, do you mind? I’m sulking.
Rev: Yes, m’lord, but... Harper, this is ludicrous. I have no idea where we are in this parody of a play...
Harper: Line! (listens to off-stage whispering) "For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog..."
Rev: Now see what you’ve done? I’m all hungry...
Harper: Have you a daughter?
Rev: I’m a Magog. I have 712 daughters and 628 sons. But only one of them still lives at home.
Harper: Yeah, well, watch out for that one... I get kind of a weird feeling that she’s not as dumb as she acts.
Rev: She couldn’t possibly be. (Aside) Play hard to get, will he? These young people... in my day, it was see a nice host, spray them with poisonous spittle, settle down. Now they all want to play the field! Well, I’ll fix this...
Exits. Enter DAWN and TWILIGHT.
Twilight: Most honored lord!
Harper: Do I know you guys? You look very familiar.
Dawn: We’re giant bugs. We basically all look alike.
Harper: Oh. Well, if I don’t know you, get lost.
Dawn: Let the record show that First Lieutenant Refractions of Dawn respectfully refuses to...
Twilight: Oh, put a sock in it. (to Harper) She always was a prima donna.
Dawn: Besides, we still have 150 lines of play to cover (thumbs through script) Let’s see... we’re supposed to engage in innuendo-laden banter about fortune...
Twilight: (loudly) Hey, Lady Luck! Shake it over here, baby!
Dawn: Talk about Denmark as a prison...
Twilight: (clapping Harper on the back) Hey, buddy, what’cha in for?
Dawn: Then comes your ‘what a piece of work is man’ speech...
Harper: Well, that basically boils down to, ‘Yes! I am a god!’
Dawn: Not quite, but okay. Then we tell you about these traveling players who are at the castle. They become vital to the plot.
Harper: Tell me something: Where have they been traveling to? There is no frickin’ Slipstream here!
Dawn: And we end with your continuing descent into madness.
Twilight: Good start, by the way.
Harper: How come everybody keeps saying I’m mad? I got everything under control-- few little snags here and there, but nothing a boy genius can’t handle. In fact, the only thing that’s making me mad is people telling me that I’m mad!
Twilight: But only north-northwest. When the wind is southerly, you know a hawk from a handsaw.
Harper: What’re you, the Than weather bureau? Get outta here!
Dawn: We can’t leave yet. First Polonius comes back, and then there are the players, and then...
Harper: I can find a can of Raid real fast.
Dawn: Well, I think that was a pretty good cameo. Must be going. And remember: Bonzai!
Harper: What did that have to do with anything?
Dawn: Nothing, but it’s my signature line. I had to say it once.
Twilight: I can’t take you anywhere...
They Exit.
Harper: Oy. Okay, think, Harper, think. You can do this. All you gotta do is kill one little Nietzschean. One giant, angry, musclebound Nietzschean. No big deal for you. You rule. Actually, you do rule, once this guy’s out of the way...
Alternately, you could get on a ship right now and head for France, or Norway, or some other place that doesn’t really exist on Tarn-Vedra. That’d be a lot easier than dealing with Tyr... but it’s maybe a little cowardly...
Dylan (Disembodied): It’s a lot cowardly! What kind of son are you? You’re dead to me, Harper! You hear that? Dead!
Harper: You never give up, do you?
Dylan (Disembodied): I also never surrender.
Harper: Okay, cheap Galaxy Quest refs aside, I got a major problem. I could build one of my giant bombs, but that’d take out the whole continent... bad idea. I could build a little bomb just for Tyr, but he’s too smart. He probably has eight security systems... (sighs) And what if I’m wrong about the whole thing? What if that ghost was some kinda demon?
Dylan (Disembodied): I heard that!
Harper: I gotta be sure before I tackle Tyr... I mean, my insurance doesn’t cover unfounded attacks on Nietzscheans. There’s got to be a way out of this... Wait. Those bozos and their players. That’s the ticket. The play-- the play’s the thing!
Lucky for my father’s ghost, I’m a freakin’ genius...
Exits.
*****
ACT THREE
Scene I-- A room in the castle.
Enter TYR, ROMMIE, REV, TRANCE, DAWN, and TWILIGHT.
Tyr: This boy is really getting on my nerves. He won’t talk?
Dawn: No, m’lord.
Rev: And on top of that, he cut me from an entire scene!
Tyr: All right; go on home. I’ll take it from here.
Rommie: I don’t like the sound of that.
Tyr: Relax. I’m not going to harm a hair on the Little Professor’s head. I’m just going to get him a date.
Rommie (looking at Trance): With her? My son can do better!
Tyr: It’s this, or I blow him up.
Rommie: (shakes Trance’s hand) I hope you’ll be very happy.
Exits, with Dawn and Twilight.
Rev: All right, now. Trance, you sit here and wait for Harper-- and here, read a book. It’ll make you look smarter.
Tyr: Ha! An entire encyclopedia couldn’t...
Trance: Could we, like, quit with the dumb jokes already, Your Highness? Don’t make me Hee-Haw on your ass.
Rev: I’m staying out of this one...
Exits.
Tyr: Hmm... According to the script, I’m supposed to express remorse now. Fortunately, being Alpha means never having to say you’re sorry. I’m going to go revel in my wealth and power. Don’t wait up.
Exits. Enter HARPER, holding tools in his hands.
Harper: 2B, or not 2B... that’s the question. (hefts a tool) I definitely need a 3B wrench for this job. Wonder if it’d be nobler to set a mine, or make him suffer with some slings and arrows? And-- oh, man-- I just thought of the outrageous fortune I’m gonna inherit! Whoo-hoo!
Whoa. I am tired. My arms feel like a sea of troubles, right down to the opposing ends. I’m totally dead; I need to sleep. No more thinkin’ about this-- my head aches. But if I fall asleep and Tyr finds out, this’ll end with a thousand natural shocks. Then he’ll skin my flesh-- his own heir, too. That’s a confrontation not to be wished.
(Yawns) To sleep-- perchance to dream? About Seraglio, maybe, and a nice rubdown? Man, what dreams may come! But first I should shut off that antiproton coil, or at least give it pause. If it blows, it’ll be a calamity to life.
That means more grunting and sweating under the control panel... and I dread something in the mainframe, an undiscovered bug from whose grip no engineer returns... Thus freakin’ Microsoft does make cowards of us all.
(Looks up) Oh, hey, Trance. What’cha doing, ya little nymph?
Trance: Oh, just... reading.
Harper: The book’s upside-down.
Trance: I knew that. (Turns the books right-side-up) (Aside, to the author) Okay, that’s the last one you get away with, too. I can kill a man sixteen different ways with this tail.
Harper: Well, enjoy your book...
Trance: Harper, wait! I have those poems you wrote me!
Harper: Huh? Trance, do I look like a poet to you?
Trance: But I have them right here. See, they’re so pretty...
She shows him several poems.
Harper: Oh, I see where you’re confused. I was just passing these on. They’re from a pal of mine named Eric. The guy worships you. Now, me-- don’t get me wrong, I think you’re a sparkly purple babe-- but...
Trance: No fair! I thought you were an Exalted Love Machine!
Harper: Y’know, that "bubbly, naive" thing only goes so far. Trust me, babe, I never loved you.
Trance: Ooooh... you big meanie!
Harper: Well, that puts me in my place. Besides, the world doesn’t really need anymore purple pixies. My advice: Get thee to a nunnery.
Trance: (looks down at herself) Um... I don’t think my outfit is really nunnery-approved.
Harper: It’s like I keep tellin’ ya, babe... us humans are basically nasty, evil jerks. I mean, we had the guillotine and the electric and both Captain and Tennille... you gotta stop trusting us.
Exits.
Trance: (calls to Harper) So you don’t think I’m just the cutest thing ever? You’re obviously nuts! (Aside) Gee, compared to baking, psychoanalysis is a snap. (to Harper) Just wait ‘till I tell my father about this. This time, I’m going to bring him the steak sauce personally!
Enter TYR and REV.
Tyr: Hmph! Loves the pixie, does he?
Rev: Well, the Divine’s purpose is not always... oh, heck. I blew it.
Tyr: I wonder if the runt knows something? I think it’s time to ship that boy’s butt to a boarding school somewhere.
Rev: Well, I still think there’s unrequited love in there somewhere. (to Trance) Are you okay, princess?
Trance: (sniffles) Daddy, will you please kill and eat Harper?
Rev: Maybe later, dear. Your father had a big breakfast.
They Exit.
Scene II-- A hall in the castle.
Enter HARPER and SEVERAL PERSEID PLAYERS.
Harper: Okay, you guys all have your assignments. For the amount I’m paying you, you better be good.
First Perseid: Yes, m’lord.
Harper: I remember-- pathos! I want to feel it right here! Okay, ya ready?
Harper and the players huddle together in a circle, clasping hands together.
Harper: One, two, three--
All: Dominate!
Exit the Players. Enter BEKA.
Beka: Harper, what is going on out there? You’ve got the King and Queen lined up to watch a bunch of Perseids...?
Harper: Cool it, Bek. Trust in the Harper. The Harper is good.
Beka: Whenever you say that, I get the urge to take out more life insurance.
Harper: Listen, I need a favor. We’re gonna have us a little dramatic reconstruction-- you know, kind of Vedra’s Most Wanted thing? Keep your eye on the big guy. If he so much as twitches...
Beka: I get to shoot him?
Harper: No, I get to shoot him. I’m the hero, remember? You’re the sidekick!
Beka: Damn, I keep forgetting.
Harper: I’m betting this guy’s poker face isn’t any better than his hairstyle. If he doesn’t look guilty by like two lines into the speech, that’ll be proof that our "ghost" is just a reject from a bad horror movie, and my imaginations are as foul as Vulcan’s stithy.
Beka: Let’s not bring Star Trek into this again...
Vedran march. A flourish.
Harper: Showtime, Bek. Make sure you got a good seat.
Beka claps him on the back.
Beka: We rule!
Harper: Oh, yeah...
They separate. Enter TYR, ROMMIE, REV, TRANCE, DAWN, TWILIGHT, and A BUNCH OF OTHERS WE DON’T CARE ABOUT.
Tyr: Harper! You’re still alive! How... er, wonderful!
Harper: What a great sentiment. I love you, man.
Tyr: We are not having a "moment" here.
Harper: And Rev! Didn’t you used to be an actor?
Rev: What is that, some kind of crack? I suppose just because I have to wear this idiotic rubber face and this sweltering hot costume, I’m no longer an actor? Well, lah-dee-dah, Mr. Hawaiian Shirts on the Bridge. I’d like to see you spend twelve hours in makeup, then have to recite this...
Harper: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Chill, Fuzzy Face. This is a party.
Rommie: Harper, come and sit by me.
Harper: Y’know, ordinarily, Rommie, I’d love to. But considering the family tree issues in this story, I better not. (to Trance) Lady, may I lie my head upon your lap?
Trance: Oh, get real! Ten minutes ago, you said...
Harper: Yeah, but I’m crazy, remember?
Trance: I don’t care. It’s still icky.
Harper: C’mon, lighten up. Take a lesson from "Mom" over there--
Rommie and Tyr are making out by the throne.
Harper: She’s certainly having a good time.
Trance: I think that’s just a ratings stunt.
Harper: Yeah, but my father’s been gone, what? Two hours?
Trance: Gone? I thought Dylan bought a farm.
Harper whispers into her ear.
Trance: Oh, that’s different.
Dylan (disembodied): Tell me about it!
Harper: Shut up, ya dumb ghost! The play’s starting...
Enter THREE PERSEID PLAYERS.
First Perseid: Well, hello, my brother.
Second Perseid: Bang, bang. You’re dead.
Third (Female) Perseid: Now that you’ve killed my husband, let’s get married.
Exit Players. Rommie looks at Tyr.
Rommie: Do you think he’s trying to tell us something?
Tyr: It’s just a phase he’s going through. Um, excuse me.
Exits. Everybody looks at Harper, who is stuffing his face at the buffet. He offers them an appetizer.
Harper: Shrimp, anybody?
Exit all but Harper and Beka.
Beka: Okay. So now we have to kill the King.
Harper: What you mean we, kimosabe?
Beka: Hey, you’re the hero.
Harper: Damn. I keep forgetting.
Enter DAWN.
Dawn: M’Lord, the Queen, your mother, would see you in her bedchamber.
Harper: Oh, this casting is so not fair.
Exits.
Scene III-- A room in the castle.
Enter TYR, DAWN, and TWILIGHT.
Tyr: I understand Than are renowned for their loyalty.
Twilight: That’s us.
Dawn: We’re dependable and true.
Tyr: I’ll give you ten million guilders to take my idiot nephew someplace bad and leave him there.
Twilight: The little creep is dead.
Dawn: Totally.
Exit Dawn and Twilight. Enter REV.
Rev: Er, Your Holiness, I got this message... apparently I’m supposed to hide behind the curtains and spy on Harper and his mother?
Tyr: Is that a problem?
Rev: It’s a little degrading, that’s all, not to mention immoral...
Tyr draws his weapon.
Rev: But it’s all for the good of the country. I’ll give you a full report.
Exit Rev.
Tyr: Hmm... another guilt scene.
Ten seconds pass in silence.
Tyr: (Aside) Well, what are you looking at?
Another ten seconds, with Tyr tapping his foot.
Tyr: (Aside) It’s not going to happen. I feel fine.
Ten more seconds. Tyr sighs.
Tyr: Oh, all right. (Deadpan) O, my offense is rank... etcetera etcetera... Is there not enough rain in the sweet heaven... yada yada...O wretched state... Bow, stubborn knees, and so forth. Can I go now?
Tyr listens to off-screen directions.
Tyr: What do you mean, I have to kneel? Right there? With an enemy at my back? Please tell me my character’s not that stupid! (Listens) I think this Shakespeare stared into the abyss too long...
Retires and kneels. Enter HARPER, with a hi-tech Death Blaster.
Harper: Wow, they got Tyr to kneel. Didn’t see that happening... Hey, if I zap him now, I get Tarn-Vedra, he goes to Heaven, Dylan’s ghost stops bugging me... it’s all good.
Dylan (disembodied): No way. I want him to suffer!
Harper: You gotta be kidding! You’re supposed to be the giant Boy Scout!
Dylan (disembodied): Well, that was when I was alive. Now I’m dead, and I want him to suffer.
Harper: Why me, huh? Why don’t you go bug Whoopi Goldberg and Demi Moore for a while?
Dylan (disembodied): Listen, Mister, I’m in command here and I’m ordering you to wait until he’s sinning. Then you kill him. Is that clear?
Harper: ‘Till he’s sinning, huh? Well, that should take all of ten seconds. Oh, well... I’m late to meet Rommie, anyway.
Dylan (disembodied): And Harper, remember... she’s playing your mother.
Harper: Yeah, yeah, I know.
Exits. Tyr stands.
Tyr: Pathetic. These Danes knew nothing about survival...
Exits.
Scene IV-- The Queen’s closet
Enter ROMMIE and REV.
Rommie: Why are we holding the scene in a closet? It’s kinda cramped...
Rev: I’m thinking it wasn’t supposed to be an actual closet...
Rommie: Well, who built the sets?
Rev: We left Trance in charge.
Rommie: That explains it. Here comes Harper-- better hide.
Rev: Heh... praise the Divine! Just one more scene, and I’m free of this crummy play...
He hides behind the curtains. Enter HARPER.
Harper: A real closet. Trance built the sets, right?
Rommie: Just get in here. Look, you’ve got to stop pissing off Tyr. It’s not healthy.
Harper: Geez, what happened to you? Is this the Rommie I know, love, and gave human form to? I don’t think so! We’re talkin’ about a guy who murdered Dylan, here! Snap out of it, woman!
Rommie: Yes, well, if you hadn’t built my avatar with all those extra features, Tyr wouldn’t have any interest, now would he?
Harper: Is that all you need? Reprogramming? Easy fix...
Rommie: Hey, get away from me with that arc welder, you perv! Help!
Rev jumps out from behind the curtains and snarls in all his Magog fury.
Harper: Whatever.
He draws his weapon and shoots Rev.
Rev: Ow! Harper, that hurt! I mean, it really hurt! You’re supposed to be firing blanks!
Harper: I, um, souped up the props a little...
Rev: Ooh, when I get my claws on you...
Dies.
Rommie: Well, this sucks. You’ve killed Rev.
Harper: Hey, I thought he was Tyr! What the heck was Rev doing in your closet, anyway?
Rev: Trying on shoes.
Rommie: Hush, you’re dead. (to Harper) Well, now what? I suppose you know you’ve broken your poor mother’s heart.
Harper: One little mistake...
Rommie: I just hope one day you have a little android who treats you exactly the same way you’ve treated me!
Harper: Let’s not shift the blame here. I’m not the one who blurred the grace and blush of modesty, called virtue hypocrite, took off the rose from the fair forehead of an innocent love...
Rommie: You must be quoting directly from the play. Do you know what any of those words mean?
Harper: Okay, visual aid time...
Rummages around in the closet.
Harper: Let’s see... broken alarm clock, umbrella, old college textbooks... geez, why dont’cha dust in here once in a while? Here we go...
He comes up with a photograph.
Harper: Here we have a genuine Kodak moment. Two brothers, Tyr and Dylan. Now, which one of these would you pick?
Rommie looks at the photograph.
Rommie: Actually, they’re both pretty hot...
Harper: Bzzt! Wrong answer! Look at this Dylan guy... strong, noble features. Looks kinda like Mars, or Mercury, or...
Rommie: Hercules?
Harper: Yeah, like that. Now, you take Tyr... please. But seriously, folks, this guy is so mean, sometimes he beats himself up! He’s so nasty, when he was born, he slapped the doctor! He’s...
Rommie: I get the point. Okay, so maybe I feel a little guilty...
Enter DYLAN’S GHOST.
Dylan: Well, it’s about darn time!
Rommie: (Aside) Hmm... me, Dylan, and Harper in a closet. This is starting to sound like a really bad slash fic... (to Dylan) Well, I’d you’d ever paid attention to me, instead of pining away for your precious Sara...
Dylan: I couldn’t! Commonwealth regulations specifically prohibit...
Harper: Guys! Can we do this later? Ya sound like an old married couple. Besides, only I’m supposed to see the Ghost.
Rommie: What ghost?
Harper: That’s the ticket. (to Dylan) You can go, Boss. I’ll take it from here.
Dylan: All right (Aside) But before I go, I’d like to do a short reading from Henry V, entitled...
Harper: I’m gonna be closing up some walls with the dead in a minute.
Dylan: (sighs) I’m going...
Exit Dylan.
Rommie: Harper, you know, I think maybe you’ve been working too hard.
Harper: You have no idea. But you’re gonna reconsider this whole Tyr/incest thing, right?
Rommie: I have dual processors working on it right now.
Harper: Atta girl. Oh, and don’t tell anybody I’m not crazy, okay? I kinda like the way they look at me now. Makes me feel dangerous.
Rommie: Whatever. Are you going to get the dead Magog out of my closet?
Harper: No way! Dead Magog have cooties! And we have commoners to do that sort of thing...
Rev: (peeks his head up): Harper, if you don’t get me off this stage immediately, I’m going to...
Harper: Oh, all right. C’mon...
He drags Rev offstage.
Harper: What’d you, eat a freakin’ tour bus this morning?
Rev: The costume adds twenty pounds.
They Exit. Rommie rolls her eyes.
Rommie: (Aside) I could be out fragging a planet surface right now... but no, Dylan wanted me in the play, so I said... oh, what’s the use?
Exits.
*****
ACT FOUR
Scene I-- A room in the castle
Enter TYR and ROMMIE.
Rommie: If you want my professional opinion, he’s nuts.
Tyr: So that little guy... my nephew... killed the Magog? By himself?! (Laughs heartily) But no, really, it’s a tragedy.
Enter DAWN and TWILIGHT.
Rommie: Oh, for crying out loud, you two again? Do you have an actual part in this play, or do you just stand around?
Dawn: Don’t knock it, sister. It pays the bills.
Tyr: Listen up, bugs. Harper has... (giggles) Oh, no, it’s too good, really... (breaks into laughter; to Rommie) You tell them.
Rommie: Harper knocked off Rev Polonius.
Twilight: By himself?
Rommie: Just go find him, and bring the body to the chapel.
They hesitate.
Rommie: Do the words "Orkin Man" mean anything to you?
They Exit, in a rush. Rommie looks at Tyr, who quickly stops laughing.
Tyr: What?
One, last snort of laughter escapes, and they Exit.
Scene II-- Another part of the castle.
Enter HARPER, DAWN, and TWILIGHT. All stand around.
Twilight: Nothing of importance happens in this scene, but we get paid to be in it anyway.
Dawn: I love my job.
Scene III-- Another room in the castle.
Enter TYR.
Tyr: I knew I should have just blown him up.
Enter HARPER, DAWN, and TWILIGHT.
Tyr: Well, where’s the body?
Dawn: He won’t tell us.
Tyr goes up to Harper and growls menacingly.
Tyr: Speak up, boy. Where’s the body?
Harper: Okay, you know how the Magog are basically giant maggots that eat the flesh of their prey?
Tyr: Yes?
Harper: Well, payback’s a bitch.
Tyr: You’re talking nonsense, boy. For the last time, where’s Rev?
Harper: Wayist Heaven, I guess. But if he’s not there yet, feel free to check to the other place yourself.
Tyr: I’m not sure, but I think I’ve been insulted.
Twilight: I’m sure.
Tyr: Okay, that does it. It’s off to England with you, you little bug.
Dawn: Me?
Tyr: No, the other bug.
Twilight: Me?
Tyr: Argh! The one in the Hawaiian shirt!
Harper: Aw, you’re beautiful when you’re angry. Give us a kiss.
Tyr snarls. Harper backs off.
Harper: Maybe I’ll just send you a postcard.
Exits.
Tyr: Dawn, Twilight... how do I put this?
Dawn: You want Harper should sleep with the fishes?
Tyr: If it’s not too much trouble.
Twilight: Nah. We live for this stuff.
Exits.
Scene IV-- A plain on Tarn-Vedra
Enter KHALIDBRAS and a bunch of HIGH GUARD SOLDIERS.
Khalid: Hi, I’m a major character whom the author forgot to introduce earlier. My part can easily be cut, if the play’s running long. Right now, I’m marching across Tarn-Vedra on my way from Norway to Poland. It’s kind of a roundabout route.
Well... got to go! Look for me in the last scene!
Exits. Enter HAMLET, DAWN, TWILIGHT, and A NUMBER OF VEDRANS.
Harper: Well, this is quite a little army. Where ya headed?
High Guard Officer: We go to gain a little patch of ground, that hath in it no profit but the name. Specifically, Poland.
Harper: Bummer. Whose bright idea was that?
High Guard Officer: Khalidbras, prince of Norway. He’s the tough-looking one way over there.
Harper looks.
Harper: That’s the guy I’ll be leaving in charge of Tarn-Vedra?
Dawn: Ssh! The audience is watching!
Harper: I think the smart ones have all left by now. Why don’t you show these nice guys where to stow their force-lances, and I’ll be along in a bit?
Twilight: Yes, m’lord.
Exit all but Harper.
Harper: Look, folks, I’ve got another speech here, but let’s be honest: I talk way too much in this play as it is. I’m just hit the high notes: Once again, the universe hates me. This revenge thing is really getting on my nerves, and I’m supposed to feel guilty ‘cause old Khalid’s got twenty thousand men going to their deaths over Poland, of all places, and me, I got a legitimate gripe, but I can’t bring myself to act because I’m scared of Tyr. I’m supposed to say, "From this time forth, my thoughts be bloody or be nothing worth!"
Personally, I think Khalid’s got an army of twenty thousand freakin’ morons. Life is good, death is bad, I rule, end of story. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I got a secret weapon to build.
Exits.
Scene V-- A room in the castle of Tarn Vedra
Enter ROMMIE, BEKA, and TRANCE.
Rommie: Now what?
Beka: It’s Trance. She’s a little bit... confused.
Rommie: What else is new?
Rommie goes to Trance and takes her by the arms.
Rommie: Trance, honey, for the last time... Even if the man says they’re "Magic Beans," you run and find a grownup before you give him any money, okay?
Trance: (sniffles) It’s not that. It’s Rev.
Beka: It started when I told her he’d "kicked the bucket..."
Trance: So I wanted to know if he’d hurt his foot.
Beka: Then I said, ‘He’s gone to a better place.’
Trance: And I said he was too young to retire to his condo!
Beka: And then...
Rommie: I get the picture! Gracious, girl, how did your people ever manage to get classified as sentient?
Trance: Evolution is easy. Slang is hard.
Enter TYR.
Tyr: Just what I needed today. The little elf.
Trance: Hi, Tyr! I’m supposed to sing in this scene!
Tyr: I’ll give you half my kingdom if you don’t.
Trance: Okay! Then I guess it’s time to pass out flowers!
Beka: Trance, this isn’t going to be like the time you gave everyone one of those mushy-poem Valentine’s Day cards, is it?
Trance produces a basket of flowers, herbs, and plants, holding it with her tail as she sorts through them with her hands.
Trance: Let’s see, I’ve got fennel, and rosemary, and a daisy for Beka--
Beka: I hate flowers.
Tyr: Just take the blasted daisy and get her out of here.
Trance: And let’s see... we’ve got parsley, sage, a philodendron... I call that one ‘Walter’... oh, and the most important thing! Isn’t it pretty?
She pulls a bonsai tree out of the basket and presents it to Tyr.
Tyr: You know, I do have a kingdom to run...
Trance: Oh, and a violet for Rommie. Hmm... I’m all out of violets, which is pretty funny when you consider that I’m violet...
Tyr: Oh, for the love of...
Enter a VEDRAN, at a gallop.
Vedran: M’lord, there’s a Mr. Rhadetes here to see you.
Tyr: That punk? Show him the door.
Vedran: Correction: There’s a Mr. Rhadetes and his mob of fanatical followers to see you. Apparently they’re breaking down the door.
Rommie: Oh, dear.
Enter RHADE, armed; FRENCHMEN following.
Rhade: What do you know? I found France, after all. Who’s the Alpha now, big-shot?
Rommie draws a weapon.
Rommie: You are just asking for it, aren’t you, you little chess-playing weasel?
Tyr: Let him in. (to Rhade) I suppose you’re angry about your father?
Rhade: Who?
One of the Frenchmen whispers in his ear.
Rhade: Oh, the Magog. Nah. I’m just here to seize power.
Tyr: Are you sure you have an adequate backup plan?
Rhade: Of course. I even have a backup-backup plan.
Tyr: Oh, yeah? Well, I have a backup-backup-backup...
Beka: Shut up! Look, Rhade, you’ve got bigger worries than seizing power. For one thing, your sister’s about two Than short of a hive...
Rhade: So what else is new?
Rommie: Yes, but this is different. She’s really lost it, this time. Say something, Trance.
Trance: My friends call me Moon Unit.
Rommie: See?
Rhade: Hey, wait a minute... she’s got the same genes I do. If she’s crazy, it could affect my chances of scoring with Nietzschean babes! Now I’m really mad! Who did this?
Tyr: I cannot tell a lie. (Aside) Well, maybe a small one. (to Rhade) Come with me, son. We’ll... talk.
They Exit.
Rommie: I’ve got a bad feeling about this.
Beka: Oh, yeah.
Scene VI-- Another room in the castle.
Enter BEKA and RAFE.
Beka: Now what’s this all about? The other scene was just getting good!
Rafe: There’s a Nietzschean sailor here with a letter for you.
Beka: I don’t know any Nietzschean sailors. Well, except for that one time during spring break, but that was years ago...
Enter a SAILOR.
Sailor: Got a telegram here for a Bekaratio Valentine...?
Beka: That’s me.
Sailor: Want me to sing it?
Beka: Just give me the letter.
She reads:
Beka: ‘Dear Beka: How are you? I’m doing fine at camp, except that some pirates fragged our ship, so I never got to England. Coming home, can’t wait to see you and the gang. By the way, Dawn and Twilight met up with that giant tennis shoe in the sky. They skooshed real good. Give Mom my love, Your Pal Forever, Harper.’ (looks up) This is not good.
Exits.
Scene VII-- Another room in the castle
Enter TYR and RHADE.
Rhade: Oh, come now... you expect me to believe that Harper-- that runt-- killed a Magog all by himself?
Tyr: I know; funny, isn’t... (looks at Rhade) Er, I mean tragic.
Rhade: Well, let’s kill the little sucker and have it over with.
Tyr: Ah, Rhade, Rhade... these people aren’t Nietzscheans. They’ve got such strange ideas about how these things work. The Vedrans like him. His mother likes him.
Rhade: And you like his mother?
Tyr: She has good genes.
Rhade: She’s an android. She has no genes.
Tyr: Oh, all right, but look at her!
Rhade: Point taken. But you do understand that I have to kill the Prince?
Tyr: I was hoping... (Stops short) I mean, will you be ruled by me?
Rhade: Until I can figure out a way to kill you and make myself Alpha, sure.
Tyr: In that case...
Enter a VEDRAN MESSENGER.
Messenger: M’lord, Prince Harper’s back in town! He’s coming in on the Noon stage!
Dramatic, Western-type music plays. Exit Messenger.
Tyr: We can use this. He wants to challenge us, does he? We’ll get him into one of those sad little human games he likes so much, kill him, and even his mother will think it’s an accident.
Rhade: Wow. You’re evil.
Tyr: Thank you.
Rhade: But what sort of game?
Tyr: Oh, I don’t know. Surfing contest, sack race... Chinese checkers?
Rhade: How am I going to accidentally kill him at Chinese checkers?
Tyr: We’ll think of something. Now, Rhade... how badly do you want revenge? What would you undertake to show yourself you father’s son in deeds, rather than words?
Rhade: I’d cut his throat in the church.
Tyr: Okaaay, that’s one idea... but I was thinking of something that requires a little less cleanup. Specifically, I was thinking of cheating.
Rhade: Well, it’s only cheating if you’re caught.
Tyr: It’s good to be Nietzschean.
Rhade: Isn’t it?
Enter ROMMIE.
Rommie: I hate to spoil things now that we’re all getting along, but... Well, Trance drowned.
Rhade: Drowned? How?
Rommie: She said she was just going for a little swim... Apparently, she mistook some carnivorous Vedran seaweed for a bunch of water lilies. Her last words were ‘Ooh... pretty!’
Tyr: That’s got to hurt.
Rommie: Then her garments, heavy with their drink, pulled the poor wretch from...
Rhade: Her garments? What does she wear, like two ounces worth of Spandex?
Rommie: Well, then her tail got caught in the floating... rice-picker... (Aside, to the Author) This is pathetic. I told you there was no way to make this scene funny. I’m getting out of here...
Exits.
Rhade: (to Tyr) So... cheating, huh? Tell me more about that.
They Exit.
*****
ACT FIVE
Scene I-- A churchyard
Enter HARPER, BEKA, and XAX, who is a giant pig. Xax is digging a grave, but stops.
Xax: I was in love once, you know. Methought it was very sweet.
Harper: Do I, like, know you?
Xax: She was the most beautiful lady pig you ever saw; she’s a BLT sandwich now. Very sad.
Harper: I’m sure. Hey, Bek? Why are we in a graveyard?
Beka: I don’t think the script makes that clear. Apparently, you just like to hang around graveyards.
Harper: Whatever turns you on, I guess... hey, buddy. Been here long?
Xax: Yep, I’ve been a gravedigger for years. Ever since that day when King Dylan the Good won the war against Norway.
Harper: Whoa, pig war stories. Look at the time...
Xax: That was the same day his crazy son Harper was born.
Harper: Hey! Harper’s not crazy! There’s nobody in the world more sane than Harper. (Sees something by the grave) Whoa! Is that a pile of skulls you got there?
Xax: Yep.
Harper: Bitchin’!
Beka: Harper, let’s just go...
Harper: Wait a sec. Toss me a skull, huh, Hamlet? (Aside) Hey, I made a pun...
Xax tosses him a skull.
Harper: Awesome. Who was this?
Xax: That was Yorick, the King’s jester.
Harper: Yorick... (Holds up the skull) I knew him, Beka. He was a good old Vedran. He could do a Mr. Ed impersonation like you never saw. Went to a glue factory in Hoboken... Oh, and I don’t know what you heard, but I never, ever kissed his lips. Okay, that one time at the Christmas party I got pretty drunk and maybe I gave him a little peck on the cheek, but the lips? No.
Beka: Harper, this is too much information, it’s cold, I’m not really into Goth, and I so much do not want to know why that guy keeps a pile of skulls lying around. Can we please get out of here?
(Author’s Note: At this point, there really ought to be a funeral, and a fight over Trance’s grave between Harper and Rhade, but if it’s in poor taste to try to make a drowning funny, making the funeral funny is just morbid. Therefore, we’re going to skip right to Harper’s last line of the scene...)
Harper: Let Hercules himself do what he may; the cat will mew and the dog will have his day.
Beka: Somehow or other, we always get back around to Hercules...
They Exit.
Scene II-- A hall in the castle
Enter HARPER and BEKA.
Harper: You let them kill Trance while I was gone?
Beka: Wellll....
Harper: Oh, never mind, it’s Trance; she’ll be back.
Beka: Stronger than we can possibly imagine, no doubt. But what about those two Than?
Harper: Oh, them? D’you know they had orders to kill me?
Beka: Imagine that.
Harper: Yeah, but I fixed them. Never piss off a technomage in his den, that’s what I always say. Rigged myself a little Bug Zapper-- Than check in, they don’t check out.
Beka: Ouch.
Harper: Well, they were ancillary characters anyway.
Enter GERENTEXRIC.
Gerentex: Welcome back to Tarn-Vedra, m’lord.
Harper: What’re you supposed to be, a Wookiee with male-pattern baldness?
Gerentex: No, I’m a last-minute addition to the cast. Apparently, the author forgot this ‘Osric’ guy existed until just now.
Beka: We’re acting with a temp?
Gerentex: Temp, indeed! I’ll have you know I am an actor of the legitimate stage!
Harper: So what’re you doing in a second-rate fanfic parody?
Gerentex: My sitcom got canceled.
Harper: Ah. You got something to tell us, Olivier?
Gerentex: Er... yes. His majesty bade me to signify to you that he has laid a great wager on your head, sir.
Harper: Wow, you really are Shakespearean. (to Beka) What’d he say?
Beka: Tyr just bet a lot of money on you.
Harper: Big freakin’ deal. What’s the bet?
Gerentex: The king, sir, hath laid that in a dozen passes between yourself and Rhadetes, he shall not exceed you three hits.
Harper: Translation.
Beka: Tyr bet that you could whoop Rhade’s ass with a force-lance.
Harper: Whoa! Hold the comlink! Rhade’s like nine feet tall, and his dad was a Magog! And there’s no ghost tellin’ me I have to kill him!
Dylan (disembodied): Wuss. Are you sure you weren’t adopted?
Gerentex: The matter would come to immediate trial, if you would vouchsafe an answer.
Beka: He says you’ll...
Harper: Yeah, yeah, I got that one. (to Gerentex) What if I answer ‘no?’
Gerentex: His majesty wishes me to convey that you have two choices, sir: Yes... and yes.
Harper: Oh. Send ‘em in, then.
Exit Gerentex.
Beka: Oh, man, Harper, I thought you were insane before, but this... Rhade’s going to annihilate you!
Harper: Relax. I got it covered.
Enter KING, QUEEN, RHADE, GERENTEX, and A BUNCH OF PEOPLE WE DON’T CARE ABOUT.
Rhade: (glowering at Harper) Let’s get it on.
Beka: (whispers) If you see that Niet bastard cheating, just let me know. I got your back.
Harper: Strangely, at this moment, that is not much of a comfort.
Harper and Rhade step forward.
Tyr: All right, gentlemen, come forward. You know the rules. I want a nice, clean fight, unless you think you can get away with cheating.
Harper: Hey, Rhade... Gaheris... buddy. No hard feelings, right?
Rhade: Grrrr...
Harper: (to Beka) Can I get that help now?
Beka: He’s not cheating yet.
Harper: What, being that much bigger than me isn’t cheating?!
Tyr: All right, gentlemen... Let’s get ready to RUMBLE!
Harper and Rhade go to opposite sides of the room. Harper activates his force-lance, somewhat clumsily. Rhade extends one side, then the other, striking a Darth Maul pose.
Harper: Help.
Tyr sits down in his throne, next to Rommie.
Tyr: Set up some wine upon that table. When the Little Professor scores a hit, fire the battlements. We’ll let all of Tarn-Vedra know the King drinks to his... beloved... nephew.
Harper: So what? The King drinks to anything...
Gerentex: Begin!
Rhade runs at Harper, slashing at him with the force-lance. Harper dodges and jumps and generally runs away, almost backing into Beka, at the edge of the playing field. As Rhade charges, Beka nudges Harper’s elbow, making his force-lance poke out and jab Rhade.
Gerentex: A hit! A palpable hit!
Harper: It is? I mean, it is! Who da man, huh? Who da man?
Rhade backs off, growling. Tyr and Rommie do ‘The Wave.’
Tyr: Give me drink.
Gerentex gives him a cup of wine.
Tyr: Harper, this poison... ahem, silly me, I mean... this pearl is yours. Here’s to thy health. (Aside) While it lasts, I mean.
Trumpets sound, and cannon shot off within.
Tyr: Come have a drink, my boy.
Harper: Um... you know what? I’m really not thirsty.
Tyr: Come on.... All the cool princes drink.
Harper: Let’s play this first.
Rhade is off in a corner, covered by a towel, being tended by Gerentex.
Rhade: I pity the fool! I pity him!
They fight again. Harper is losing, but then...
Harper: Hey, what’s that over your shoulder?
Rhade: (turning) What?
Harper jabs him with the lance.
Harper: Oh, Harper’s in the zone! And the crowd goes wild!
Rhade: Argh, I can’t believe I fell for that again! (Aside, to the author) We’ll talk later about me losing to that shrimp...
Tyr: I don’t believe it. The Little Engine that Could is going to win. Maybe he does have my genes, after all...
Rommie: Give me an H! Give me an A! Give me an R! Give me a P! Give me an E! Give me an R! What’s it spell? HARPER! (takes the cup) The Queen carouses to thy fortune, Harper.
Tyr: Um... Rommie, that may not be the best...
She drinks.
Tyr: Well, never mind. (Aside) Yes! Bachelorhood, baby! I wonder what Freya’s doing tonight...?
Harper: Come on, Rhade, ya big sissy! You want a piece of me? Huh? Don’t you bring that in here! You’re in my house, now! That’s right!
Rhade: That’s it...
Rhade advances, strikes, and wounds Harper.
Harper: Yeow! (to Beka) I thought you had my back!
Beka: Oh, come on... my grandmother could’ve fought off that attack. Stay in your zone. Fundamentals, pal! Come on... stick and move out there! Stick and move!
Harper: Thank you, Burgess Meredith. Now, as for you...
He turns to Rhade, jumps over his head, does a backflip, and strikes from the other side. Rhade is wounded.
Rhade: Foul! Foul! This is not the Phantom Menace, and you cannot win with some cheesy levitation trick! No way!
Harper: Ah, you’ve learned much, young one... but you’re not a Jedi yet.
Harper pulls up his pant legs, revealing tiny anti-gravity devices.
Beka: I knew it! It had to be the shoes.
Harper: No applause is necessary. Just feel free to bask in the glory of Harper and his amazing bag of tricks.
Rhade: Why, you little...
They scuffle. Suddenly, there is an outcry...
Rommie: The drink! I am poisoned! (to Tyr) I am so over you...
She dies. Harper puts his force-lance under Tyr’s throat
Harper: Lucy, you got some ‘splainin’ to do!
Rhade: I’m afraid it’s worse than that; Harper, thou art slain. In thee, there is not a half an hour of life. I poisoned the tip of my force-lance. Tyr put me up to it!
Harper: ‘Zat so? Well, I guess it’s a good thing I switched lances before they were brought out.
Rhade: What?
Harper: Oh, don’t worry... I had the poison removed, and replaced with nanobots. Disco nanobots. They oughta be in your bloodstream right about... now.
Rhade claps his hands over his ears.
Rhade: Stayin’ Alive... Saturday Night Fever... all at once! Noooooo! This isn’t how it’s supposed to be! We’re supposed to exchange forgiveness, and then we both die! Don’t you freebirthers know anything?
Harper: Well, we know how to program kickass nanoprobes. Now repeat after me: Harper... is... a... god.
Rhade: I’m... proud of you. You... should be...
Collapses. Harper turns back to the King.
Harper: Now, as for you...
Tyr: Oh, please.
He swipes Harper’s force-lance and kiss his ass around the room for awhile.
Harper: Hey, hey, hey! What’s up with this? This is fiction! You’re the bad guy! You can’t win!
Tyr: Welcome to my world.
He draws back the force-lance for a blow. Something taps him on the shoulder. He turns...
Tyr: Rommie?!
Rommie: That’s Andromeda to you. (Aside, to the Author) Sorry, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I’m a warship, not a damsel in distress.
Tyr: But I saw you die!
Rommie: I’m an android, you putz. I can’t be poisoned. And let me tell you something else: Those bone spurs of yours? Not as impressive as you think they are.
Tyr: This is about the Freya thing, isn’t it? I was kidding! Can’t you take a joke?
Rommie zaps him with the force-lance. He dies.
Beka: I’m guessing that’s a big ‘no?’
Rommie looks around the room.
Rommie: Actually, this isn’t so bad. Now, I can rule as Queen... no, Empress, of Tarn-Vedra. Let’s see, my first decree will be... will beeeee...
She falls. A light starts blinking on her torso: ‘BATTERIES LOW.’ A little pink bunny rabbit strolls by her prone form, banging on a drum.
Beka: Ooh... should’ve gone with Duracell.
Harper: (groans) Beka...
She runs to his side.
Harper: Oh, I am dead, Beka. The floor drips with the guts of the unworthy... complete bug-on-a-windshield.
Beka: Gee, that sucks for you.
Harper: Well, aren’t you going to offer to die by my side?!
Beka: No offense, Harper, but that’s not really my thing...
Harper: I thought we were pals!
Beka: Oh, come on, Harper... if I were lying there, and you were here, would you poison yourself for me?
Harper thinks about it.
Harper: Okay, good point. But still...
Beka: I’ll tell you what: Since I do hold you in my heart, how ‘bout I absent myself from felicity for awhile, and in this harsh world draw my breath in pain, to tell your story?
Harper: Yeah, that works too, I guess. Tell the people... to vote for that big guy. Whatshisname.
Beka: Khalidbras.
Harper: Yeah. He’s got my dying voice... the rest is... silence...
Beka: Silent? You? (thinks for a second) Wait a minute. Harper, what exactly are you dying from?
Harper: Huh?
Beka: Well, you didn’t get poisoned in this version, and Tyr didn’t get to blast you, and you’ve been moving around, so he didn’t break your neck or anything...
Harper: Hey, you’re right... I dunno, I guess I got caught up in it for a minute...
He slowly climbs to his feet.
Harper: Woo! Good night, sweet prince! And Flight #109 out of Tarn-Vedra Spaceport get us to a nice, long rest!
Beka: We’re leaving the planet? But you’re a prince here!
Harper: Yeah, but I’d hate all that paperwork...
Beka: And there’s no Slipstream!
Harper: Oh, that. Well, don’t worry about a thing, Bek, I think I can rig something up... remember, you’re traveling with a genius.
Beka: Harper, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship...
They exit, arm-in-arm. Enter TRANCE.
Trance: Ahem. ‘If these shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended... that you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear... and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding, but a dream.’ (giggles) Don’t I make a cute fairy?
Khalid (From off): Hey! Wait a minute!
Enter KHALID. He storms up to Trance.
Khalid: That’s not the way it goes! You just recited the end to ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream!’ In this play, everybody dies, and I take over Tarn-Vedra!
Trance: Yeah, but I think this is nicer. Don’t you?
Khalid: I most certainly don’t! What about my kingdom? What about my lines? You can’t just change everything!
Trance: I can’t?
Trance picks a force-lance off the floor with her tail and zaps him. Khalid falls. Then she goes to the throne, finds the bonsai tree she gave Tyr, and rips off an entire branch.
Trance: (still smiling brightly) That’s better.
Curtain.
The End
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