Saturday, December 11, 2004
Away In A Manger, No Crib For His Bed...
Last night/this morning (what? Neither of us like doing real work), the ridiculously hilarious Young Mr. Grace and I wrote the most brilliant play in the history of ever. It started, like all good things do, with Posh and Becks.
It all started with my post about how, Madame Tussauds has an exhibit featuring Posh and Becks as Joseph and Mary in their nativity scene, with a host of other entertaining supporting players. I've been obsessing over this story, as I want Posh and Becks figurines for my nativity set.
We then wondered what really went down that night and the rest, as the kids say, is history.
The Cast
Joseph: David Beckham
Mary: Victoria Posh Spice Beckham
Angel: Kylie Minogue
Wise Man 1: George W. Bush
Wise Man 2: The Duke of Edinburgh
Wise Man 3: Tony Blair
Shepherd 1: Samuel L. Jackson
Shepherd 2: Hugh Grant
Shepherd 3: Graham Norton
Mary: (With bitchface) Jesus? What the hell sort of bloody common name is Jesus?! He shall be called Oedipous Bronx. (Looking at the little drummer boy)A SONG? I want fucking VERSACE, DAMN IT! HE DOESN'T NEED A BLEEDING SONG! HE NEEDS A GUCCI NAPPY, IS WHAT HE NEEDS! PEASANT!
Joseph: (In whispery little voice) Please, calm down
Mary: You shut up! You wont even have sex with me! I got knocked up by fucking GOD you stupid pansy! If you hadn't been so bloody busy shagging half of Jerusalem, p'rhaps we wouldn't be in this bloody manger, now, would we? Jesus Christ -- no, darling, Mummy didn't mean you! Kylie? Angel? Help? The thingy, the thingy is crying.
Angel: (Puts on her ipod and grooves away, oblivious)
Joseph: (Stares at angel's ass)
Mary: And what do YOU want? Frankenscence?! MYRRH? Unless those are new talcum powders from Dior, you can just follow your bloody star back to wherever it was that you came from!
Samuel L. Jackson: (Staring at angel's ass) Now thas' what I'm talkin' about! Hey baby, I got your Myrrh right here!
Mary: Will somebody please hit on me?! A spirit got me pregnant, I have needs too! And Joseph here . . . well, really, now. I let a spirit impregnate me for a REASON. Consider the bloody OPTIONS.
Joseph: Now, Mary...
Mary: BUY ME DIAMONDS, BITCH.
Hugh Grant: (In his foppish manner) Well, I s'pose I could . . . I say, would you care to . . . we could . . . that is . . . oh dear, I . . . I really don't know how to do this without a car and a twenty-dollar bill.
Mary: Is it a Mercedes?
Hugh: No.
Mary: NEXT!
Hugh: Liz?! Liz, darling, is that you?! Oh, I've missed you so much!
Samuel L. Jackson: Well baby, why don't you and me see if we can't recreate the immaculate conception . . . without the immaculate part.
George W. Bush: Don't mess with Texas
Everybody (Including Jesus): Shut it!
Tony Blair: You know, it's like the-
George W. Bush: If I may interrupt for a minute-Don't mess with Texas. And Merry Christmas to Dick Cheney
Samuel L. Jackson: N----, you said that already! Fuck you!
Graham Norton: Kylie, your ass looks fabulous!
Samuel L. Jackson: Mmmmhmmmm. Y'all may have followed some [bleeping] star, but I followed DAT ASS!
Angel: (Turns the volume up, dances) Someone make that baby stop crying! I can't get it out of my head! That bloody noise is all I can think about!
Mary: And what about MY ass? Isn't it FABULOUS?! Well?! JOSEPH?????!!!!
Joseph: (Ogling the angel) What? What? Um, Manchester United! Football! I love my wife and family! Rebecca Loos is mad! The newspapers are all lying! I'm a pretty, pretty princess, and my hair has it's own agent! What? What?! (Stares at angel's ass) Er, yes, it's nice, quite nice, yes.
The Duke of Edinburgh: (Tries to make conversation) So, Joseph, where will you put the Jesus tattoo?
Reporter from The Sun: And most importantly, Joseph, will the birth of your lovely son . . . what was his name . . . oh yes, Jesus-
Mary: (Furious) Oedipous Bronx or I'm out of here!
Reporter from The Sun: Yes, well, will you change you hair to reflect you joy at the birth of your son, Jesus.
Mary: OEDIPUS BRONX!
Joseph: (Still ogling the angel) Er, yes, I'm going to, um, get it, uh, yes, layered. Perhaps a shag and with highlights. Light highlights like...like that angel has. Mmmm . . . shag . . . yes . . . wait. Um. What?
George W. Bush: Jesus, my man!
Mary: (In the background) OEDIPOUS BRONX, YOU BLOODY AMERICAN SHEEP!
George W. Bush: I'm your best friend! We have so much in common! Like, we both hate gay people! And minorities! And poor people! Right? RIGHT?!
Jesus: Wait . . . who are you again? And why do you smell like sheep dip?
George W. Bush: You know, Jesus, you can get me some oil. Yeah, oil. I'll have Dick Cheney get your signature, all right?
Samuel L. Jackson: Man FUCK you N----! And FUCK Dick Cheney! I got my fucking black ass out to a fucking manger and I am gonna get laid, bitches! Which one of you is coming home with me?
Mary: Speaking of oil -- what is this bloody cheap stuff you brought?! WHERE ARE MY DIAMONDS?! AND MY GUCCI NAPPY?! WHAT OF THE GUCCI NAPPY, JOSEPH? (Turns, stares at Samuel L. Jackson appraisingly)
Joseph: (Trying to cop a feel of the angel) Gucci, yeah, I'll Gucci her...angel...
Samuel L. Jackson: FUCK ALL'A Y'ALL! Crazy fools! Is Sam Jackson gonna have to choke a bitch?!
Jesus: (Turns up his ipod, dances along with the angel) It's love at first sight, cuz baby when I heard you for the first time, I knew...
Hugh Grant: (Falls over his own two feet) Erm. So . . . you're . . . an angel . . . hmmm . . . so, er . . . would y' . . . that is . . . oh dear
George W. Bush: (To Jesus, who is bopping along to "Love At First Sight") Okay, so a family is one man, one woman, and one spiritual entity born of the creator? Yeah? Yeah? How about it? What do you say? Don't Mess With Texas!
Mary: (Desperately) Hugh, how much do you pay?
Hugh Grant: $20.
Mary: Give me a hundred dollars and a Dior watch
Hugh Grant: Erm, yes, that's quite, yes, erm, uh...yes, erm...
Mary: (Looks between Hugh and Joseph) Hmmm. Fey British man with bizarre hair and fey voice or . . . oh, bloody hell
George W. Bush: So, Joseph, marriage is between a man and a woman
Joseph: Mmm, woman...
George W. Bush: So don't mess with Texas.
Joseph: But, Texas? I--no, her name's Kylie, Kylie the Angel. At least . . . I think it is. Maybe it's Rebecca . . . or Ruth? Is it Ruth? Maybe Helen? I mean . . . wait! Um. I don't know what 'er name is, 'cos I only have eyes for my lovely wife . . . um . .
Mary: MARY!
Joseph: Right! Mary! Mary! And my beautiful son, um . .
Mary: OEDIPUS BRONX!
Joseph: Oedipous . . . wait. Wasn't it . . . wasn't it something else?
Jesus: Jesus Fucking Christ.
Joseph: That's it!
Jesus: God, 33 more years of this shit. Thank God I can turn water into wine, huh? I'm gonna need a lot of it to get through this.
Samuel L. Jackson: Wine? What what? Awwww yeah! Thas' what I'm talking about, N-----! Let's party! It's a celebration, bitches!
Mary: Oedipus, honey, do your thing, let's see. It better be good, not generic or anything. None of this cheap litre jug stuff. You turn out some Chardonnay or you're out on your own, understand.
Jesus: (Turns water into wine)
Mary: WAIT until that bitch Madonna sees this! No, not THAT Madonna! The other one! She thinks her kids are so special, with their castles and their private schools! Can they make Chardonnay? No, they cannot. Oh, Oedipous, honey, you're BRILLIANT
Jesus: You know, my name is actually Je -- oh, forget it. Man, I need to ask Dad what the hell he was thinking. (Composes letter: Dear Dad: What the hell? You couldn't at least have tried for Ginger? No love, Jesus)
Joseph: (Perving on the angel) I couldn't help noticing your very, eh, provacative dancing. You must be parched! Would you care for a drink?
Samuel L. Jackson: Awwww HEEELL no! What did the five fingers say to the face? SLAP!
Joseph: No, my artfully moussed layers, stop! (Hits him all girly like)
Samuel L. Jackson: Fuck yo' hair, N------, fuck yo' hair! (starts beating the ever-loving hell out of Joseph)
Angel: Can't we all just get along? No? Okay, then.
(Angel and Jesus start drinking wine and grooving to "Come Into My World)
Mary: 20, eh? At least give me that gold. What's this Frankenscence and Myrrh? Oooh, are those the new scents from Versace?
Hugh: Oh . . . erm . . . I don't really . . . I'm not . . . I couldn't really . . . I suppose . . . oh dear
Graham Norton: Those new Versace scents are DIVINE, Donatalla outdid herself!
Mary: I KNOW!
Graham Norton: And did you SEE the new line from Prada? HEAVENLY!
Angel: Oh, they really are! And believe me, honey, I KNOW from heavenly!
Jesus: Preach it, Angel!
George W. Bush: (Panics) No, no, not heavenly, Jesus! No, you have to like manly things! Like Texas! And oil. You REALLY REALLY like oil!
Graham Norton: Oooh, oil! George, you dirty, dirty boy!
George W. Bush:(Flustered) I-no, I mean, uh, I mean, DONT MESS WITH TEXAS! Get him, Tony!
Tony Blair: (Obediently beats Graham up)
Mary: YOU BLOODY AMERICAN FOOL! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?! IF YOU WANNABE MY LOVER, YOU GOTTA GET WITH MY FRIENDS! Cheap bastard! Richest bloody country on earth, and you couldn't even bring me a bloody diamond to celebrate the birth of my son . . . my son . . .
Joseph: (In the background) Oedipus!
Jesus: No, it's NOT Oedipous! It's JESUS! JESUS! What the hell is the matter with you people?!
Mary: OEDIPUS!
George W. Bush: I TOLD YOU BITCH, DONT MESS WITH TEXAS!
Mary: JOSEPH! GET HIM!
Joseph: (On the ground, immobile) Angel. Please?
George W. Bush: Just you wait, missy! One of these mornings, you're gonna wake up and find inspectors crawling all over this place, looking for weapons of mass destruction!
Mary: There's no weapons of mass destruction here!
George W. Bush: WHAT DIFFERENCE DOES THAT MAKE?! (runs out of the manger to find Dick Cheney, screaming)Don't mess with Texas, y'all! Jesus, call me!
Samuel L. Jackson: I will BREAK MY FOOT IN YO' ASS MOTHAFUCKA! YOU LEAVE MARY THE FUCK ALONE!
Mary: And WHO are you?
Samuel L. Jackson: I'm Sam Jackson, bitch.
Mary: Well, Sam Jackson, tell me something: How do you feel about Gucci?
Samuel L. Jackson: Honey, I'll Gucci you good. I'll Gucci you whenever you want it, however you want it. Girl, I'll Gucci you all night, if you want."
Mary: Now that's more like it! What do you say we go someplace a little more comfortable and talk. We can talk about my album. And Gucci. And that bitch Gerry. And Gucci. And The Spice Girls. And Gucci. And my hair. And Gucci. And . .
Samuel L. Jackson: Hell fucking yeah, Gucci...
(Exit Stage Right, followed by paparazzi)
And now it's just Angel, Jesus, Hugh, plus Joseph and Graham Norton, on the floor, all beaten up. Angel and Jesus are grooving and drinking wine, and Hugh is "dancing" in that horribly stiff, straight-white-man way that looks like epilepsy set to music.
Angel: Hell of a party, Oedipus!
Jesus: IT'S JESUS!
THE END
Mallory at 12/11/2004 01:39:00 PM
4 Comments
-
at 11:36 AM
said... You're either brilliant or crazy, I'm not sure which.
-Adam-
at 2:10 AM
said...
That was brilliant.
-
at 3:41 AM
said...
HEEE! Young Mr. Grace here. I'm procrastinat -- er, taking a study break. Ahem.
ANYway. HILARIOUS. It's even better as a play. The actual IM conversation posted to my lj is a little hard to read, in retrospect. Ah well.
Point is: We? Are funny. And also possibly crazy. I can live with that. We need to have a blog or something, yo.-
at 2:45 AM
Mallory said... YMG, we are brilliant, I can hardly believe it. Let's not listen to what the haters (Adam!) say.
I was aiming for a book, but you're more practical, we should start with a blog. Once finals are over (grrrr), we should sit down and plan fo' real. Eee!