Act 1, Scene The-Only-Scene-There-Is (Thankfully!)

(The six-person audience talks amongst itself.  Sticky little boys pry gum off a fungus-friendly floor. Grimy little girls use their mommies as jungle gyms.  A dog barks.  Several theater seats decompose.)

Mommy #1:  (Stuffs program in snoring husband's face.)  Look, sweetie! Next month's show is called "Miracles, Miracles, Miracles:  A heart-wretching story of love and loss."  Cousin Agnes is playing the lead again.

Snoring Husband:  SNORE!   

(Enter Theater Owner—a deaf, child-hating, altogether jolly old man.)

Theater Owner: (Begins roaring above foghorn level. Snoring Husband wakes with a start.)  THANKS FOR COMING TO THE SHOW!   KEEP TRACK OF YOUR KIDS.  MISPLACED CHILDREN WILL BE THROWN IN THE DUNGEON--HAR, HAR!  WHAT A FUNNY JOKE!  ONLY I'M NOT KIDDING!  TONIGHT, YOU ARE IN FOR A TREAT.  IT LOOKS LIKE OUR AUDIENCE BOASTS QUALITY RATHER THAN QUANTITY, SO WE’LL. . .

Perfectly-Coiffed Wife:  (From offstage:)  Honey!  You forgot to mention me!

Theater Owner:  WHA--?

Perfectly-Coiffed Wife:  ME! 

Theater Owner:   HAR, HAR!  WHAT WOULD I DO WITHOUT THE WIFE?  TONIGHT, THE PART OF MRS. HADLEBOTHOM WILL BE PLAYED BY MY WIFE.  LAST EVENING, THE REAL ACTRESS DIED ONSTAGE OF NATURAL CAUSES; HOWEVER, THE SHOW MUST GO ON!  HAR, HAR!  IT LOOKS LIKE OUR AUDIENCE BOASTS QUALITY RATHER THAN QUANTITY TONIGHT, SO. . .

Perfectly-Coiffed Wife:  You already said that!

Theater Owner:  (Feigns deafness.)  . . .WE’LL JUST SAY:  “WELCOME TO THE COMMUNITY THEATER!”

(The lights dim.  The techie finishes plucking his nose hairs and pops a cassette into the tape deck.  A synthesized orchestra begins playing a super-peppy, out-of-tune Vaudeville melody as the curtains disintegrate, revealing two moth-eaten couches and a hanging door.   Enter Gladys—an adorable redhead, followed by Gertrude—a wannabe actress.  They wear dusty prep school uniforms at least four sizes too small.  Their lips are pinker than a sunburned pig.  Their heads are covered in bows and Shirley Temple ringlets.)

Gladys:  (Adorably:)  Hello, my friend, the wannabe actress!

Gertrude:  (Winningly:)  Hello, my friend, the adorable redhead!

Both:  (Singing, jumping, and flinging appendages randomly as the songwriter, Perfectly-Coiffed Wife, directs from offstage:)  

It’s so good to see you in school today!

As long as you’re around, things are A-OK!

Let’s dance on these couches like the stars we are,

Even though we’re imagining they’re lockers—HAR, HAR!

We’re glad to be friends here at Cheese E. High!

If we were ever torn apart, we’d probably cry!

We’re two of two kinds:  A redhead and brunette!

Together we make a Cheese E. set!

(They strike an adorable pose. Perfectly Coiffed Wife applauds enthusiastically. Snoring Husband snorts.)

Gladys:  What shall we do today, Gertrude, the wannabe actress?  I am feeling rather blue.

Gertrude:  You are not blue, Gladys!  You have red hair!  Har, har!  What a funny joke.  I shall try to cheer you up.  Let us discuss cheese.  That always makes us giggle!

Both:  (Singing the “Ha, Ha” song while rolling about on the ground:)

            Cheese!  Cheese!  Ha, ha, ha!  Cheese!  Cheese!  Ha, ha, ha!

(This line repeats approximately twelve trillion times or until one of the lights falls and kills an actress, at which point the audience applauds.)

Gertrude:  I know, Gladys!  Why don’t we visit Mrs. Hadlebothom in Room 204? (Gestures grandly to the hanging door.)

Gladys:  Alas!  I cannot!  (Strikes an adorably dramatic pose.)

Gertrude:  Why, Gertrude?  Oh why?   (Strikes a winningly pleading pose.)

Gladys:  (Sings as the lights dim for effect and sappy-strings-that-sound-like-sine-waves begin to screech:)

When I was two, my mother died, and so did my father and siblings.

Yes, I was an orphan who lived on the streets, dreaming of diamond rings.

I also dreamed of a family who’d care!  I also dreamed of new underwear!

But when I awoke, there was no one there.  I had nothing but a coat and my hair.

And then I found out that Mrs. Hadlebothom was my great-aunt twice removed.

But she is so stern that I just can’t face her; I’d rather have my appendix removed.

Gertrude:  Those last two lines are awful.  You can’t rhyme “removed” with “removed!”  Oh well.  Let us visit Mrs. Hadlebothom and bring a little joy into your miserable life.

Gladys:  What if she does not want me?  I do not think I can face rejection!

Gertrude:  To be honest, she probably will not want you.  But we must try!  It is our only hope!  (Sings:)  We must open this door!   It’s a terrifying thing.

Gladys:  (Sings:)  But if I work up the courage, my soul will take wing!

Both:  (Hitting high "C"s full volume.  Snoring Husband begins to convulse.)  Our souls will take wing!

Gertrude:  (Croaking, since she has lost her voice--much to the pleasure of Snoring Husband:)   Actually, my soul already has figurative wings, since I am destined for Broadway.  (Pulls a top hat from her backpack and performs a tap dance.)  But you are a family-less, diamond-less orphan, adorable though you may be.  So take fate by the horns!  Sculpt your own vista!

Gladys:  You make no sense at all!  What a terrible script.  Still, I think I shall twist this frightening doorknob and face my fears. (She pantomimes turning the doorknob.)

Perfectly-Coifed Wife:  (Enters through the door, dressed as Mrs. Hadlebothom in bright, flowing robes.  Her copper curls are piled high and her eyelids are heavily lined and shadowed.  She carries a script and speaks with a very, very bad British accent:)  Gladys dah-ling, my great niece twice removed!  I cannot believe it!  I need some tea and crumpets!  Golly wolly!  I could not help overhearing the conversation between you, the wannabe actress and you, the adorable redhead.

Gladys:  Do you want me, auntie?  Oh, do you?

Perfectly-Coifed Wife:   That depends, dah-ling.  I am a 10th grade English teacher, after all.  Have you waded through “The Odyssey?”  Uncovered beauty in “The Good Earth?”  Bathed in the luscious phraseology of Herriot?

Gladys:  (Adorably:)  Yes!  Yes, I have!

Gertrude:  (Winningly:)  Yes!  Yes, she has!

Perfectly-Coifed Wife:  (Holds the script in one hand; gestures wildly with the other:)  Hurrah!  We shall become one adorable family!  I have been so lonely since my husband perished in a fire and my babies died of consumption.  I shall now sing of love, fulfillment, and cheese. . .

(A large groan is heard which does not issue from Snoring Husband.  The floor trembles, then collapses unexpectedly beneath the actresses.  They disappear from sight.  Enter Theater Owner.)

Theater Owner:  THE END!  COME BACK NEXT MONTH TO WATCH "MIRACLES, MIRACLES, MIRACLES!"

 (The techie pushes the “play” button on the tape deck and resumes his nose hair plucking.   The super-peppy Vaudeville orchestra screeches merrily as snoring husbands wipe the drool from their beards and harried mommies detach their children from various flavors of chewing gum and floor fungi.  The hundred-year-old stage lights simultaneously combust.)

LIGHTS OUT (Hair-Plucking Techie:  "Heck, I'd turn 'em off if I could, but I can't see a durn thing. . .")