PROLOGUE: Oh yes… They came back, Master… Okay, we also had to apologize to J.R.R. Tolkien for that Precious bit in the last Act, but it was worth it… I have to wonder about Van Hecksling - both in the movie versions of this thing and the plays. Lucy loses blood, and they give her a transfusion. She loses it a second time, and another transfusion. You would think that this great vampire slayer would realize that after the THIRD time, he would start getting the hint, but no… On the FOURTH time, Lucy dies, and NOW does Van Hecksling finally figure out what is going on, although he started using garlic on the third time, which worked until Lucy’s mum takes away the flowers and airs out the room…
Okay, Jellylorum’s comments about the transfusions? Back in that time, blood transfusions were not routinely done. You plugged up the holes in the body, and gave them tonics and wine and meat and all sorts of things to let the body make more blood cells. If it was just too much blood loss, the patient usually died… However, direct body-to-body transfusion can really be a problem - unless you absolutely know the two patients’ blood types. During any one of the four transfusions they give Lucy, they could have killed her by giving her the wrong type of blood… “She’s dead!” “Yes, but we saved her from the vampire!” Win-win situation? Now, Dracula probably views blood types as food groups, I guess…
Okay, it is time for Act Two, which is really Act Three according to my old college script, but who’s counting, right? Most of you are probably scrounging the pizza box for the last of the stuffed crusts and ladling up the last of the spaghetti anyway. So, start saying the Rosary now, or, if you’re Protestant or non-Christian, just say, “oh, god,” over and over, and keep a crucifix handy. By the way, no matter if it is silver or not, a Star of David won’t work on a vampire. However, I wonder… What if the vampire was Jewish before they succumbed? Or Hindu? Or Islam? Or Wiccan…? Good grief… We’ll start looking like Benny in the Mummy after a while.
Whatever… Sit back, and try not to bite your neighbor… unless she or he is into that sort of thing… The Jellicle School of Acting and Bobsled Racing has their stakes ready for Act Two. We now present to you in living… well, undead color, the second half of DRATULA…
CHARACTER PROGRAM (In order of Forced Appearance)
THE PARTS
Johnnie Hardcore
The Old Broad
The Coach Driver
Dratula
The Three Old Bats
Lucy Western
Mina Murray (Hardcore)
Doctor John Sewer
Rumfield
Dr. Van Hecksling
Arthur Wholewood
Quincy Moreless
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THE NAMES
Munkustrap
Jennyanydots
Asparagus Jr.
Quaxo
Rumpelteazer
Tantomile
Jellylorum
Jemmina
Bombalurina
Tugger
Mistoffelees
Skimbleshanks
Pouncival
Tumblebrutus
|
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A Rumblepurr Film Production
A Jellicle Parody Enterprises, ltd. Entertainment
Directed by Rumblepurr and Altaica
THE GREEN ROOM
Jellylorum shook her head as Skimble came in and joined her and Jennyanydots on the couch. The butter Calico was not happy.
“Ach, dear,” Skimble said as he patted her knee. “I cannae help what happened. The script said that we did the transfusions that way…”
“And it was wrong,” Jelly countered. “If any of you dunderheaded Toms were the wrong blood type, Jemmi’s character would be in the graveyard without the vampire’s kiss…”
“Jelly?” Jenny suddenly asked. “How’d you know that it’s a kiss? I thought vampires bit their victim.”
Jelly fanned herself. “Someone had to give Quaxie lessons on how to do it…”
Both Jenny and Skimble looked at each other, and both nodded.
“Aye,” Skimble agreed. “If anyone knows how tae give a hickey, it’s Jelly…”
“I think I’m signing up for medical duty on the next one of these,” Jenny said.
Jemmi was in one corner with the others. She was showing off her new fangs.
“What’d you guys think? Pretty neat, huh?”
Cettie looked at the sharper and longer fangs blankly. “Where’d you get them?”
Pounce rubbed the bridge of his nose. “From the bottom of a box of Cracker Jacks, where else? Jeeez…!”
“I had Jelly do some dentistry on me to make them look real,” Jemmi grinned, which made her look positively dangerous. “She’ll put them back to normal after the shoot is over. Hey, Pounce? You wanna go somewhere and let me show you how to do love nips like a vampire?”
Tugger stopped the small Tom. “Watch it, Half-pint. She goes for more places than just the throat. I should know.”
“Huh?” Pounce looked at the Curious Cat suspiciously. “What d’you mean?”
“Tugger can’t sit down right now,” Electra said as she came in. “He told Jemmi she could bite him anytime, and she took him up on it. Of course, he didn’t specify where, and you know how tall he is as compared to Jemmi…”
“Lucky for him that he didn’t turn around when I told him I’d think about it,” Jemmi chortled. “He could make the trio into a quartet for Jenny on the Gumbie Cat.”
Bomba and Deme came in, and went over to where Munkus was adding a bit of white to his silver and black mane. The two looked him over, and Bomba shook her head.
“Hey, handsome. What’s with the aging cream here?”
“Considering where I was supposed to have been, I aged because of the shock.”
Deme grinned. “What? From being nearly made into four vampire’s meal?”
“No,” Munkus said, completing his finishing touches. “That I was in this Parody as a character named Johnnie Hardcore.”
Quaxo came in, and both Deme and Bomba caught him immediately. Bomba stroked the lapels of Quaxo’s old-fashioned tuxedo waistcoat while Demeter stood back and chuckled.
“Hey, stud… I wanna know how you managed to get Scatty to allow you to give Jemmi hickeys in this show.”
“I am not at liberty to discuss those arrangements with you,” Quaxo said nervously.
“Why not, lover-boy?”
“Munkus said that you would try to use the same persuasion to also secure the same rights. I agreed not to tell you…”
“Munkus knows me way too well…” Bomba said, giving Munkus a 'thumbs’ up’ sign.
Electra looked at the clock on the wall, which said 14 minutes past whatever hour. Seems like somebody pulled off the Hour hand and used it on the dart board… “Okay, people, on the set. Let’s try and get this thing in the can…”
“And this time pull the handle before someone realizes which can it’s in,” Bomba said.
ACT TWO
SCENE ONE: HEY, JEMMI! BITE ME!
Purrcival was leaning back and blowing some big bubbles toward the camera lens when the red light popped on. He grinned as the bubble landed a direct hit and spattered all over Deme. He then grimaced as a blackberry bagel caught him between the knees.
“Good one, Deme,” he got out between clenched teeth. “OOOOOOOoooooo, that hurt!”
There was a five-minute delay as Demeter cleaned her camera lens and Purrcival put an ice bag on the affected parts.
“Welcome back to the Second Act of DRATULA, or as we call it, 'Phlebotomy for Fun & Profit.’ In Act One, Johnnie Hardcore, AKA Munkus, found out that Count Dratula was really something you did not want to meet in a dark alley… or anywhere dark, thankyouverymuch… Unbeknownst to him, the estate that he helped secure was going to be Drattie’s home avay from home in England… Why they didn’t send them to America is beyond me, but I didn’t write this womiting puppy. Once there, something or someone is going around giving things hickeys - especially one Lucy Western. When Dr. Sewer, AKA Tugger, cannot figure out why Lucy’s arteries kept going dry, he had the notorious Doctor Lugnuts Van Hecksling, AKA Skimble, come out to take a look. Slightly like having a doctor come in for a second opinion. Van Hecksling had everyone order pizzas, pasta, garlic bread and matzoth balls… okay, Murray from TNJ ordered that one. When the toga party ended, Lucy still got the grand hickey, and she died.”
Cassandra on Camera two swiveled in tight on Purrcival, which meant the viewers got the detail view of Purrcival’s nose, and it was not pretty…
“New camera person,” he said as she backed off. “And now, we have Lucy’s funeral. Do you know that every Tom in the crew attended and insisted on placing a flower in her casket?”
“And if they keep on groping me,” Jemmi snarled out, “some of them are going to have bite marks on their arms!”
“Heh…” Purrcival grinned inanely. “That spoils my move… The mortician actually told Dr. Sewer that 'she makes a very beautiful corpse. It was quite a privilege to attend on her…’ He’s also making a killing on A4 pictures of her being prepped… We now go to the sanitarium office where Dr. Sewer is working… we think…”
“Blow it out your ear, Purrcy,” Tugger said just as Skimble walked in.
“Can I help ye, friend (*heh*) John? Like, tell you how tae add, dot 'i’s’ and the like?”
“Skimble? Get with Munkus and Bomba and you guys can be a trio act on Jellicle Idol.”
“Come with me, John. We have a little bit to do.”
“If it gives you the giggles, lead on,” Tugger said.
Skimble and Tugger go into the next room, which subs for a chapel. The casket - lovingly made out of a fruit crate, a purple blankie, and a couple of freshly darned and sewn sock pillows - holds Lucy Western, AKA Jemmi. Someone had made a slight alteration to the “casket” and it allows her to be viewed from the waist up. The drool pattern starts from that point… Skimble goes over to her and dumps a bunch of garlic flowers, which makes Jemmi grimace even though she is supposed to be dead. He then takes a golden crucifix from inside his vest, and places it on her forehead. Then, Tugger drew Skimble back.
“Why place the cross on her forehead, Uncle?”
“Because Jelly and Jenny wouldnae trust me to place it anywhere near Jemmi’s cleavage, that’s why…”
“Good call… Now what?”
“Tomorrow, I’m coming back in here with a set of postmortem knives…”
“Knives?”
“Yes. We havetae cut off her head, and take out her heart… Why, Tugger, er, John! That’s a pretty shade of green ye’re turning…”
“Excuse me…” Tugger goes off-camera for a moment while Skimble smirks at the camera. The tall leopard cat comes back and glares at Skimble. “You would have to do that right after an Italian dinner… Okay, why do that? Besides. Won’t that kinda tick off Jemmi?”
“If we actually did that to her, aye, she might take exception tae it. According tae the script, we’re doing this for a reason. There are terrible and strange days….”
“Days?”
“What it says in the script…”
“Oh, for a while there, I thought we had days more of this…”
“Nay! That would be cruelty indeed.”
Purrcival found the camera coming on just as he was drinking from an Irn Bru bottle. He quickly hid the bottle. “Ah, Deme? Please… oh, never mind. I never got Teazer to warn me, so why should you be any different. Uh, let’s see… Oh, yes… The next morning…”
Tugger looked off-camera in the direction of the Mustardpiece Theatre sitting room set and Purrcival. “All that for (*he counts on his fingers as he mumbles*) three words?”
“Go with it, Tugger,” Electra hissed.
“Well, Uncle?”
“Scratch the decapitation…” Skimble said disgustedly. “Someone stole the crucifix. That’s the last time I use a gold one.”
Pounce comes in, crying horribly. “Oh, Jack!!!”
Tugger looked puzzled at Skimble. “Jack?”
“Another name for John, Tugger…” Skimble said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I can’t stand it without her,” Pounce wailed against Tugger’s hip.
“Wow. Real good, Pouncie. You’re crying like you really mean it! How?”
“Put some onion juice in your eyes, and you’ll cry a river,” Pounce said sotto voce.
“Okay, cool it then. I already have enough slash stories with Misto. All I need is you in them now.”
“Is she really dead?” Pounce said, looking in the casket. Jemmi stuck her tongue out at him, and he returned the gesture.
“As the proverbial doornail…” Skimble said.
Demeter comes out and sits in from of the camera that Rumpleteazer takes over. She shuffles the papers on the desk in front of her, and glares at the camera. Again, the microphone with the KATZ call sign is in front of her. When the red light comes on, Demeter force-grins at the camera.
“Tonight we bring you the 'The Hamster Horror’ in the neighborhood of Hampstead. Hampstead is having a problem with young kittens lately. The kittens report that they were with the “blooper lady” late in the evening, but two of the kittens were not found until morning. Each of the Tom kittens have been found with a small wound on the throat that looks like a hickey… Oh, give me a break! Some parents believe they had been playing with hamsters… Yeah, sure… This is Demeter for KATZ and that’s the report on the Hamster Horror on the Hampstead Heath… Wow. Try saying that fast four times…”
SCENE TWO: ENTER MINA HARDCORE
Purrcival knew he was in trouble when he heard Teazer snorting in laughter. Looking up from his August issue of Playtom, he once more saw the red light on top of the camera. He sighed and closed the book he was hiding it in.
“You know what was is really uncanny about what I was just reading…”
“(*snort*) Ya was actually readin’ dat, Poirrcy?”
“Yes, Teazer, I was… There are some very informative articles in this wholesome family magazine, er, book…”
“Lioke wat?”
“The placement of the staple in the indentations of the central article is uncanny in its consistency…”
Tugger leaned over to Skimble, who was preparing to go on. “Whu…?”
“Purrcy means they always put the staple in the navel of the playqueen of the month.”
“Purrcival, please return to the script …”
Purrcival sighed and rolled his eyes. “I had better get on with this, then… Having heard that Mina had been Lucy’s friend, Van Hecksling calls on the Hardcore household… That ought to be a fun visit…”
The Toms whistle and applaud as Bomba comes out in a low-cut blouse and full skirt. She curtsied at center stage, taking her standing ovation from the Toms that did not faint at her cleavage, and then went to the door. As she opens it, Skimble enters in, shaking his head. Bomba grins as Skimble takes her outstretched hand.
“Mrs. Hardcore?”
“You said it, baby…”
“Queen Bomba…”
“Lighten up, Rumble,” she said toward the booth, and then turned back to Skimble. “Sorry. You feed me a straight line like that…”
“Ah, Aye… Ye were Miss Mina Murray?”
“Oooo, two for two, Uncle. Impressive…”
“Bomba… I have come because of the deceased…”
“Oh, so you’re the quack who has a thing about garlic, right?”
Skimble sighed. “Aye… I believe ye kept a diary?”
“If you mean I wrote things down, yeah.” Bomba grinned and handed him a book. “If you see it written in red, it’s about me and Munk.”
“How is Munkus… er, Johnnie? Is the brain cramps, er, fever gone?”
“He was almost recovered until we heard about Mr. Hiccups’ death,” Bomba said, her hand always playing with a necklace that dangled around her cleavage. “Did we tell you that Munk, er, Johnnie was made a partner in the firm with Mr. Hiccups. Now with this mysterious death of Mr. Hiccups…”
“What did he die of?”
Bomba fanned herself slightly. “Heart attack, I believe the doctors said…”
Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Skimble sighed again. “I can only guess what brought that on. Anything else?”
“Well… There was that shock Johnnie had last Thursday… He thought he saw someone that brought on his brain cramps, er, fever…”
“Oh? Does he remember who this person was?”
“He believes it was… (*Bomba waits for the eerie organ chord…*) Count Dratula…”
“When he comes home, we will have to meet with Doctor Sewer.”
Purrcival nodded. “Don’t you just love Bomba’s sense of timing… and that blouse… and that way that she… we’re on again… Van Hecksling and Dr. Sewer meet later on, and check out the Westminster Gazette…”
Tugger is holding one edge while Skimble hold the other edge of a newspaper. Skimble points at the page he has. “What do ye think of that?”
Shaking his head, Tugger made a rude noise. “I only dig the Garfield comic strip when that pink chick is around. Not much of a figure, but she at least looks kissable like Cassie…”
“Tugger… I am talking aboot the article here.”
Mumbling aloud as he reads, Tugger nods at the end. “Okay, I get it. These kids are getting bit by gerbils or something… You know, like, ah, what’s-her-name…”
“Lucy…” Skimble growls.
“Whoever… These young toms are getting bit like Lucy.”
“That is true… but nae by the same one…”
“I should hope not,” Tugger chuckled. “Ah, Lucy is a girl and these kids are all boys.”
“Ye have no idea what poor Lucy died of?”
“This parody comes to mind real quick,” Tugger nodded. “Being in one of these is always suspect to me…”
“Tugger… What was the script’s diagnosis of Lucy’s death?”
“Ooo! I know this one! She died because she lost a lot of blood!”
“Excellent,” Skimble replied deadpan. “And how did she lose it?”
“Uhhhhhh… She forgot where she put it?”
Skimble massaged the bridge of his nose before he said anything further. “Let’s gae over this again, 'doctor.’ Lucy not only lost her blood, but also lost the blood given her by four Toms. She didnae just lose it herself. How about we take intae consideration the idea of the bat that lives in South America and some western islands that swoop down on cattle at night, or sailors who sleep on board ship, and then are found dead and drained of all blood in the morning?”
“Lucy was bitten by a bat? In London?”
“Tugger, er, John… Ye got a mind like a steel trap - once it is closed, it stays that way. Now, this is what I want ye tae do… Ye with me?”
“Yeah!”
“Verra well, I want ye tae believe…”
“Right… Believe in what?”
Skimble returns to massaging his nose. “Do ye think that the young Toms and Lucy were bitten by the same thing?”
“Well, I guess…”
“Then ye are wrong… The hickeys on the little Tom’s throats were made by Lucy!”
“Huh?”
“Ah, Tugger. Ye are a thick as a brick wall…”
SCENE THREE: THE UNDEAD PARTY
Tugger looked at the camera and then at the red light. “What happened? Aren’t we cutting to a new scene?”
“Look at the script,” Skimble said. “The camera just changes position and we continue the scene. Mr. Stoker did the same thing.”
“Okay… uh… heh! I like this one. Doctor Van Hecksling? Are you mad?”
“Tae be in this parody, what do ye think?” Skimble said, and the then waved Tugger off. “I know ye loved the sweet lady…”
“Yeah, she had two reasons to get close to her, all right…”
“Tugger… And I didnae expect ye tae believe this announcement. Tonight? I shall prove it to ye. Dare ye come with me?”
“Do I have a choice?” Tugger asked sincerely.
“None at all… We are gaeing tae spend the night, ye and I, in the churchyard where Lucy lies in her tomb. This is the key (Skimble pulls out a key from his vest pocket) that unlocks the tomb door.”
“Hey, Doc? Lucy’s a bit gamey by now to be fooling around with her, or is that your bag now to play around with dead things?”
“Tugger… Come with me… and that isnae a request…”
The two go out the door, and begin the walk over to the tomb set.
“Now we change scenes,” Tugger groused.
“The Western mausoleum…” Skimble said, lighting a lantern.
“Mahrvelous place,” Tugger said flatly. “I just love dead flowers, don’t you?”
Skimble unlocks the door, and the camera inside the tomb set came on. Tugger looked around until they came to the newest coffin in the bunch. He looks at it while Skimble takes a cordless screwdriver out of his bag. He punched the drill a couple of times.
“Skimble? Use the regular screwdriver…”
“I was afraid of that…” Skimble said, and put the cordless drill back in the bag and brought out a regular screwdriver.
“Hey, Doc? What the Rumpus are you doing?”
“I am opening the coffin…”
“You’re kidding…”
“Does it look like I’m…? Dr. Sewer? Just stand back.”
Skimble goes through the motion and pops the lid. The coffin is empty…
“Hey! Where’s Shortstuff?”
“Well?”
“Well, what, doc…? Where’s the little babe?”
“That’s for me tae know and for ye tae find oot.”
Tugger deadpanned to the camera, and the then turned back. Skimble shook his head.
“Okay, tell me. Why isnae she in the coffin?”
“She had to go to the little Queen’s room?”
Now Skimble rubbed the bridge of his nose again. “I can see this is gaeing tae be a fun scene… Come with me again. We shall gae for noo, and return the next afternoon.”
“That means a second take, right?”
“Aye…”
The camera went off so that Skimble and Tugger leave the set. The lighting changes to late day, and the “Action!” cue is given.
“Okay, what’s different this time?”
Skimble grinned. “I didnae tighten the screws on the coffin.”
This time, when Skimble opens the coffin, Jemmi is lying there - looking extremely well made-up and the low cut blouse revealed a lot of… fur…
“Mama…” Tugger groaned.
“Close your mouth, Tugger…” Skimble mumbled. “Now are ye convinced?”
“Yeah… Convinced I really should have told Pounce to take a hike and really tried for her in TJC.”
“Cassie willnae like tae hear that…” Skimble mumbled again. “Look here.”
Skimble pushes up Jemmi’s upper lip, revealing the long sharp fangs. “And what aboot these beauties?”
“I’d rather examine some other beauties on her… okay, okay. Look, Doc. She wasn’t here in the other scene and now she is. Someone took her out, did something with her, and put her back.”
“Who and why?”
“For all I know, you did, Uncle…” Tugger winked. “And we both know why…”
“Tugger… She has been dead for one week…”
“She looks pretty darn good for that long…”
Skimble rubs his forehead. “Okay, here is the way this is supposed tae gae… Lucy was bitten by a vampire, her blood sucked oot of her, and she died from loss of blood. When that happens, she becomes Undead. She looks alive, aye, but she isnae…”
“You’re barking…”
“Getting close tae it, aye…”
“Okay, so now what?”
“I am gaeing tae cut off her head, and fill her mouth with garlic. Then, I shall drive a wooden stake through her heart…”
“What do you think of all this, Shorty?”
“Not much,” Jemmi replied.
Skimble now rubbed his temple. “But since the Writer of this book thought it might be better to bring Arthur in on this, and Quincey…”
“A regular Halloween party, eh, doc?”
“Aye… I bet ye are lousy at bobbing for apples too…” Skimble said. “We shall come back before sunset the next day…”
“Another scene change again?”
“Aye…”
This time, Pounce and Tumble come out and join Tugger and Skimble in the living room set. Tumble has his cowboy hat on.
“Okay,” Pounce said as the light came on. “I’ve been talking to Quiche here…”
“That’s Quincey, Pounce…” Tumble said.
“Whoever… and I don’t understand anything about this.”
“Ye know aboot the same as Tugger then,” Skimble said.
“Hey!” Tugger complained.
“This is what we are gaeing tae do tonight,” Skimble went on. “I need tae ask ye something that ye mightnae like…”
“Believe me,” Tugger nodded, winking. “He means this too.”
Tumble nodded anyway. “I’m satisfied.”
Skimble rubbed his eyes. “I havenae said anything yet, ye twit!”
Pounce broke in. “Dr. Van Hecksling, I don’t quite like to 'buy a pig in a poke,’ as we say in Scotland… They actually say that in Scotland?”
“Just gae on with it, Pounce.”
“What are you planning to do?”
Skimble nodded finally. “I am going tae the churchyard tonight, and I want all of you tae gae with me…”
“Crypt party,” Tugger added.
“We’re going to the mausoleum?” Pounce asked.
“Yep.”
“And when we get there?”
Skimble continued to rub his eyes. “We enter the tomb…”
“And in there?”
“We open the coffin…”
“Time out, Uncle… You want me to go to Lucy’s tomb, at night, in a horror show…”
“Aye…”
“Do you know what happens to people who do that? They get killed!!!”
“Pounce… Okay… Lucy is dead, right? IF she is dead, then naething is going tae jump owt and eat ye, right?”
Pounce nodded hesitantly. “So far, so good…”
“What if she isnae…?”
“Then I get eaten alive by the boogieman!” He turns to Tumble, and they both chanted together… “WE’RE GONNA DIE!!!”
Skimble give both Toms a brain-duster. “Listen tae me, ye two eejits… Lucy isnae dead and isnae alive… I believe her tae be Un-Dead…”
“Undead? Like a zombie?” Pounce said.
“Pounce… I am asking permission tae cut off the head of Miss Lucy…”
“Uh, won’t Jemmi kinda object to that, Uncle?”
Skimble is sorely tempted to apply another brain-duster to the small Tom, but restrained himself. “Lord Gawddarnit…”
“Uh, Uncle? Are you supposed to be swearing here?”
“That is your bleedin’ name, ye little twit!!!”
“It is? Oh…”
“Everyone come with me,” Skimble finally said. “Once more tae the tomb set…”
As they started out, Tugger shook his head. “So far, this is a very dull party…”
SCENE FOUR: PEG IN MY HEART (Or, “Gee, That Smarts…!”)
The lights come up on the Tomb set again. Skimble is about to open up the tomb door when he notices Tugger, Pounce and Tumble are wearing party hats. Tugger holds one out for Skimble. He rubs his eyes again.
“Couldnae resist the joke, eh? Take the stupid hats off!”
They grumble as they take the hats off, and then wait until Skimble opens the door. Then, everyone files into the 'Tomb’ to stand around the coffin. Pounce looks at the coffin.
“Jemmi’s in there, right?”
“Aye…”
“You’re gonna open that, aren’t you?”
“Aye…”
“Can I say a prayer first before you open it?”
“Nay,” Skimble says, opening the upper lid. Pounce disappears as the lid comes up and smacks him in the face. “Sorra aboot that…”
Pounce reappears, rubbing his nose. “You enjoyed that, didn’t you? Okay, where’s my Mate? You said…”
Tumble looked into the empty coffin. “She ain’t here, Pounce, er, Artie…”
“I know that, you flamin’ git! Well?”
Skimble is holding the bridge of his nose. “Neither Tugger nor I have done anything with her body…”
“Although Skimble had some rather kinky ideas…” Tugger got out before Skimble gave him a brain-duster.
“Here is how it works. During the day, the Undead cannae move. At sundown, they can. And then, at sunrise, they must come back here. Now, it is night, so Lucy can move… Okay, everyone outside…”
“Outside? What about the werewolves, and zombies, and witches, and skeletons…”
Pounce stopped as Skimble applied the brain-duster. They go outside and hide behind tombstones, although most of the time, you can barely see Pounce’s eyes peering over the top of the one he is behind. The lighting changes to denote the passing of time. Tumble is supposed to be a cowboy of the American West, so he pulls out a tin. Because he does not like tobacco, it is shredded bubble gum. He places a wad of the stuff in his mouth and begins chewing… Skimble takes out a wad of white stuff, and he crumbled a small cookie into it. Taking the mass, he rubs it into the crack of the door.
“What are you doing, Uncle?” Tugger asked.
“I’m frosting the door… I am sealing it so the Undead cannae enter it. Here’s your sign…”
Tugger reads the sign. “I’m stupid?”
Skimble nods. “Works for a Yank comic…”
“What is that stuff?” Tumble asks.
“The Host,” Skimble says, and looks at the blank stares from the three Toms. “An Indulgence…” He turns and looks at the camera. “Will someone in the audience who is a Catholic please explain this? Never mind. I didnae want anyone tae risk excommunication.” He turns back to the Toms. “Let’s just say it willnae let the Undead enter in…”
They go back to the tombstones and wait as the lighting changes again. Jemmi comes on, her blouse practically leaving nothing to the imagination. The Toms in the crew give her a standing ovation, and it takes five minutes to get the scene back to the beginning…
“You guys are spoiling me,” Jemmi says, coming up to the door with a cabbage patch doll in her arms. “This is supposed to be my dinner,” she says to the camera, showing her fangs.
The Toms jump up, shining the lantern on her. She strikes a surprised pose, and breathes in to gasp… Another five minutes pass as the four Toms are resuscitated…
“Dinnae do that, Jemmi. Me Ticker isnae that strong any moore…”
“Sorry, Uncle…”
“Carry on…”
“Come to me, Arthur, darling… Leave the others and come to me. I’ll give you something that will curl your whiskers…”
“I’m gonna die, right?”
“Ye will iffen ye keep this up, aye,” Skimble said as he gets between Pounce and Jemmi. He pulls out his crucifix. Jemmi hisses. “Friend Arthur? Do ye wish for me tae do this?”
“Sure I can’t let her do whatever she was going to do to me? It sounded great…”
“Pounce!”
“Okay, okay… Do it already…”
Skimble scrapes a bit of the white gunk from the door. Bomba puts a fire extinguisher out the side of the Tomb and sprays the white fog all over the place, and Jemmi slips through the opening in the set.
“You were supposed to spray that in FRONT of me, you big bimbo!” Jemmi said as she tried scraping off some of the foam.
“Oooops,” Bomba snickered and went offstage.
Jemmi slips into the coffin, and the light came back on the camera. The door squeaks open and four Toms poke their heads in - Pounce’s on the bottom of the door.
“Is this where we get eaten by the boogieman?”
Skimble applies a brain-duster. “Get in there.”
The four pile into the Tomb, and they open the lid. Jemmi is laying in the coffin.
“Wow… That blouse is really low, ain’t it?” Tumble chuckled as they look at her. He blew a bubble and it popped.
Tugger grinned. “Any lower and it would show her…”
“Knock it off!” Pounce interjected.
“Close, but that isn’t quite the word I had in mind,” Tugger grinned.
Skimble puts a large bag in front of the coffin. “I supposed tae tell ye how a vampire works here. They cannae die, and gae on adding new victims by biting them and sucking them dry. Friend Artie? If ye had let Lucy have her way with ye, ye would have become nosferatu…”
“Bless you, Uncle.”
“That means undead, Pounce… I plan on doing the deed tae make Lucy truly dead…”
“You’re actually gonna kill her?” Pounce said incredulously.
“Tumble? Ye are closer tae him…”
(*Whack*) “OW! What was that for?”
“Thank ye, Tumble. Artie? Come here, and take this stake in your left hand.”
“Okay, stake in the left hand…”
“Put this mallet in your right hand.”
“Mallet in the right hand…”
“Put the point of the stake over her heart…”
“Point over… You gotta be kidding!”
Jemmi’s eyes opened and she snarled. “Pounce, the body is fake. Do it and end this fragging scene.”
“What d’you mean?”
“I’m standing up under the coffin, and only my head is sticking up here. The body is fake, so stick me!”
“Can I have the body afterward?” Tugger asked.
Jemmi shouted. “DO THE BLOODY SCENE!”
Pounce placed the stake back over the body between the fake boobs. Raising the mallet, he finally hit the stake after three tries. When the stake went into the body, Jemmi screamed bloody murder!!!
“Oh, Rumpus!!! I killed her!”
Jemmi looked up at Cettie in the fly, and noted that the white tiger Queen was dressed in a black cape and hanging upside down from a light pipe… “Pounce, you brainless ditz! I’m supposed to scream! Now shut the flamin’ lid!”
Skimble not-so-gently pushes Pounce out of the way, and pulls out a chainsaw. As he started it, and revved it up, the intercom came on with a feedback squeal…
“Skimble? Put the chainsaw away and proceed with the scene according to the script.”
“The man doesnae like power tools…” Skimble mumbled.
SCENE FIVE: THE PLOT COAGULATES…
The scene lights up in what looks like Dr. Sewer’s study. Tugger looked over the array of medical and psych books (all second-hand), and shook his head.
“This guy is really a head case all right. Not one comic book anywhere…”
Bomba came in and posed at the doorway. The Toms cheered as she exposed a leg through the center of the skirt. Tugger turned, and grinned.
“He doesn’t have the entire collection of your picture spreads either…”
“Toms… I hear you were with her when old Lucy kicked the bucket, right?”
“Queen Bomba? Please stay in character…”
“Rumble? I am in character… just not the one you want in this blasted parody… Okay… Doctor? I understand you were with Lucy when she… died. How did it happen?”
“To tell the truth, Bomba… er, Mrs. Hardcore, I’m not sure if she died because of the events, or Pounce clubbed her senseless.”
“Har-de-har-har, Tugger,” Pounce said from off-camera.
Bomba held the bridge of her nose. “Doctor… You know it’s hard calling him that…? It makes me think he’s fooling around with someone…”
“Queen Bomba…”
“Okay, Rumble… Doctor? I need to ask you for a favor…”
“Ooo, this will cost you plenty, Bomba…”
Her hand came up to stop the Director from responding. “Tugger? I seem to remember some sort of trailer where I put a footprint in your gut. You wanna try for it?”
“Okay, what’s the favor…?”
“I want to see one of your patients that your journal said was a wacko…”
“Ah, that would be Misto… Rumfield… Why him?”
“The script says I find him interesting… Have Munkus become Rumfield, and I’ll have myself committed…”
Misto comes out dressed in a straightjacket. “Hi. You wanted to see me?”
“Yes… Uh, Misto? You have some bug specks between your teeth…”
“Thank you… You’re not the Queen the doctor wanted to mate with, are you? You can’t be 'cause she’s dead.”
Bomba grinned. “Oh, the good doctor would very much like to mate with me, but he’d be missing a few things if he tried it.” Tugger grinned back, and then tried to loosen his collar a bit. Bomba snickered. “I’m Mrs. Hardcore.”
“I’m surprised Vickie didn’t want your part.”
Bomba looked at the camera, ran her tongue across her teeth and growled seductively. “She didn’t have the… assets… for the part like I do…”
“Bite me, Bomba!” Vickie said off-camera.
“Wait until I get my fangs from Quaxie later on,” Bomba cooed back.
Misto rubbed his forehead by doing so against Bomba’s shoulder. “Then what are you doing here?”
“What a concept! We’re actually doing lines,” Bomba said, looking slightly surprised. “My Mate and I are staying for a visit with Dr. Sewer…”
“I hate that name,” Tugger said petulantly.
Misto nodded. “Then don’t stay.”
“I’d love to leave,” Bomba said. “But why not?”
Both Bomba and Misto looked at Tugger after five heartbeats of silence.
“What?”
“Your line about getting a Mate…”
“Oh, that one… How’d you know I wanted to mate with anyone?”
“The notches on your belt for one,” Misto replied.
Bomba snickered. “Those are scratches, Misto, er, Mr. Rumfield.”
Tugger is now massaging the bridge of his nose. “Ha-ha, Bomba. You’re getting the popular vote now…”
“Ah, but Mrs. Hardcore, when a Tom is so loved and honored (*gag*) as our host is, anything regarding him is of interest to our little community… Even the houseplants are awaiting the gossip… I suppose you wonder why I’m in the nutbin, right? Of course you are… I fancy that life is a positive entity and that by eating live things, I can prolong my own. I even tried to eat the doctor here, but I am guessing you probably have read the slash stories about that incident. Believe me, the authors either gloss over the act or go into delicious overboard exposition and very graphic descriptions…”
Tugger is now massaging his temples. “Misto, you can shut up anytime now, or I will find one of those shot-thingies, and put you to sleep…”
“That’s okay, doc,” Misto winked. “I’m tired anyway.”
“Good-bye, Misto, er, Mr. Rumfield. I hope to meet with you again. You’re a riot…”
“Good night, dear Mrs. Hardcore. I pray to the Great Cat that I see you, and not Tugger’s furry hind end again.”
Later… in the study… Tugger is standing near the door, watching Bomba as she did a long-skirted rendition of the Basic Instink show… When Skimble came through the door, it took five minutes and a stale strawberry bagel to get him to say anything.
“I really wish Deme would get some fresh bagels for a change,” he said, rubbing the back of his head. “They dinnae hurt as much. Friend John… And Madame Mina…”
“Watch it, Skimble,” Bomba said coolly. “That makes me sound like a Grizzy…”
“Ah… right… Madam Mina… Bomba? Please keep your skirt closed or I’ll never be able tae say me lines… Friend John? We must tae-night keep Madam Mina from harm, and destroy the evil monster that threatens all of us…”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to diss the Writer like that, Skimble,” Tugger said.
“I’m talking about You-Know-Who…”
“And I thought this wasn’t a Hairy Putty flick either…”
Skimble gave Tugger a brain-duster.
“Okay, let me lay one on you, Uncle. I just found out that Count Dratula’s house, the one Johnnie sold him at the start of the Pollicle flick? It’s right next door.”
Skimble rubs his face. “Now he tells me… Drat! If we had known sooner…”
“Yes?” Bomba prompted.
“We would have ended this thing in Part One… We might have saved Miss Lucy.”
Pouncival and Tumble came in. Tumble wore his cowboy hat and was chewing on the bubble gum wad in his mouth. Evidence of previous bubbles was still stuck on the fur around his face. Munkus comes in after them, and goes over to the couch. After he sits, Bomba casually strolls over and sits in his lap. Moments later, the two of them are in a passionate embrace that was then interrupted by a stale cranberry bagel.
“Deme! What the Basements was that for!?” Bomba snarled while rubbing the back of her head.
“No fair getting any when I can’t…” Demeter replied from Camera two.
With a slight hint of resentment, Bomba eased off Munkus’ lap and sat next to him on the couch. “You’re in trouble later, Munk. You got a grope in and I didn’t…”
Skimble, who had held the bridge of his nose up until now, finally decided to speak his line. “I suppose ye are wondering why I called this meeting?”
Everyone chuckled and guffawed.
“Let me tell you something aboot what we are facing and then we can talk about what we are gaeing tae do aboot him… There are such beings as vampires…”
“Oooooooooooooo… (*organ chord*)”
“Ach, please… This vampire has already struck once, and is still among us is as strong as twenty Toms…”
“Sounds like Quaxie all right,” Bomba snickered.
“Bomba… He is more cunning than mortal since he’s been around a lot…”
“He sure has, right, Scatty?” Bomba said, and got the “OK” sign from the Brown Tabby Queen on Camera three.
“Can I finish here, Bomba? Thank ye… He can appear, within limitations, at will, when and where, and in forms like the bat or the Pollicle…”
“That does it,” Bomba said, closing her skirt tightly, and covering the cleavage of her blouse. “I’m closing the curtains for sure… Ah, sorry, Skimble…”
After a brief closing of his eyes and counting to twenty, Skimble continues. “He can influence the elements such as the storm, the fog and the thunder. If that’s the case, he does better than our technical director… So… How can we destroy him, even if we can find him? For if we fail, we become like him…”
“You mean I can be big and strong?” Pounce interrupted?
“Pounce?” Tugger chuckled. “Most of us would be bats. You’d be a mosquito…”
Skimble now held the bridge of Tugger’s nose. “No, ye eejits… We’d become vampires. So… What say everyone?”
Munkus held Bomba’s hand, which had been trying to grope him. “I speak for Mina and myself, Doctor Van Hecksling.”
“Speak for me? Sure why not…”
“Dokie for me,” Tumblebrutus said, popping another bubble.
“What the heck, me, too,” Pounce said. “Even if we all DIE!!!”
Tugger reached over, and applied a brain-duster to the back of Pounce’s head. “Count me in. Beats the skat outta sitting out there and watching this…”
“Verra well, here are our strengths. We are free tae act and think; and the hours of the day and night are equally ours. The vampire has tae suck blood tae be filled for he does not eat, as our friend Johnnie found oot. He throws nae shadow, so he cannae do parlor tricks with the light. No mirror reflects his image as Johnnie observed. He is verra strong…”
“I saw Quaxo bend a bumper from a Cadillac into a pretzel one time,” Tumble said.
“But, he cannae go in anywhere first withoot being invited in…”
Bomba nodded. “Quaxie always was the gentle-Tom…”
“And he must go back tae his coffin at sunrise. But, he is powerless against the garlic, the crucifix and anything sacred. The wild rose placed on his coffin keeps him in there…”
“You mean the whole fraggin’ rosebush, right, doc?” Pounce asked.
“Even a sacred bullet shot into his coffin can kill him…”
Pounce jumped up and put his hands and fingers into the shape of a machine gun. “Goodie. Lemme have a belt of bullets that are blessed, and let me at him! Ratataatatatata!”
Tugger once more applied a brain-duster (*dink*). Skimble thanked him.
“And then there is the Buffy tool - the stake in the old heart and the detached head bit. That will do it…”
Tumble suddenly jumped up, drew a super soaker from his coat pocket, and got the window with one mighty splat! Two seconds after, the sound system comes up “Pow! Crash! Tinkle-tinkle-tinkle! Ba-zing!”
Skimble shook his head. “I think I should go have the tailor measure me for the same type of tux that Quaxo is wearing...”
“Sorry…” Tumble said sheepishly. “There was a big bat on the window there…”
“See!” Pounce wimpered. “We’re all gonna DIE!!!”
“Only some of us,” Skimble said ominously. “Did you hit it?”
“Uncle? The window got in the way…”
“Never mind then. We must trace doon the boxes and then kill this monster in its lair…”
“Do we get saving throws?” Pounce asked.
“In your case, no,” Skimble said, turning to Bomba, who was trying to interest Munkus into making out again. “What are ye doing, Bomba?”
“Even at your age, Uncle, it should be obvious. Come on! Munk and I are supposed to be newlyweds here…”
“Ach, I should have stayed in Vaudeville… Madam Hardcore, ye must be placed somewhere safe… a bank vault would do nicely… All the rest of ye need tae get ready, and we shall meet in front of Dratula’s house.”
“The old burning paper bag filled with Pollicle poop gag?” Pounce asked gleefully.
Skimble rubbed the bridge of his nose while Tumble gave Pounce a brain-duster. “Thank ye, Tumble. I’m aboot tae use him as bait for a trap, lad…”
The scene changes to the Nuthouse and Dr. Sewer’s office. The door opens, and Tugger, Tumble, Pounce, Munkus and Skimble enter in. Shadowdancer comes in from the other door marked “Authorized Personnel and Nutcases Only…” Dancer is dressed in a lab coat.
“Ach, laddie. Where did they find a coat big enough tae fit ye?”
“I didn’t ask, Uncle. I’m just glad the Writer decided to make the Big Guy Dratula and left me out of it until now.”
Tugger was tapping his foot because Skimble walked on his line. “Well?”
“Oh, the line… (*ahem*) Mr. Rumfield wants to see you, doc. I’ve never seen him act like Cettie before, but if you don’t come to see him pretty soon, he’s gonna have a hissy-fit.”
“That was your line?” Tugger asked incredulously.
“Yeah. Cool, isn’t it?”
“Let’s go see him… John…”
The two Toms cross over to another set - with white padded walls… Misto is without his straightjacket but dressed in a hospital smock.
“Cool threads, Misto,” Tugger snickered.
“At least it covers the tail,” Misto replied. “Doc! Doc! PLEASE!!! Pretty please with sugar and honey and all sorts of sweet glop all around it. I wanna go home now, PLEEEESE?”
“Don’t we all,” Tugger said as Misto grabs his hand and starts kissing his knuckles. “Misto? Knock it off or THIS will turn into a slash story…”
“I appeal to your friends,” Misto said and started for Skimble.
“Ye kiss my hand, and ye’ll wish ye had never been weaned…”
“Ah… By the way, you have not introduced me.”
Tugger palms his face, and then looks at the others. “This is Lard Gawddarnit, Professor Van Hecksling, Mr. Quiche Morehiss, and Johnnie Hardcore. Gentle-toms, and I use that lightly, this is Rumfield.”
“The guy on the American telly?” Pounce asked.
“Not that one…” Skimble said. This time, Pounce gave himself a brain-duster before anyone could get to him.
Misto drew himself up to full height, which means he was only taller than Pounce. “Lard Gawddarnit? I had the honor of getting drunk with your father one night, and I’m sorry to hear that he passed away because you hold the title. Who got him? A bartender for not paying his bar bill or an angry Tom mated to one of his mistresses?”
“Very funny, Misto…” Pounce growled.
“Mr. Morehiss? I know you to be a resident of the fair State of Texas, and my condolences to you…”
“I hope the Texas Rangers never find you, Misto…”
“And what shall I say about meeting Professor Lugnuts Van Hecksling? Nothing comes to mind, so I’ll keep it that way to shorten the scene.”
“Thank ye, Misto…”
“And so you see, gentle-toms, that I am total command of my faculties…”
Tugger leaned toward Skimble. “His what?”
“His mind, Tugger…”
“…And therefore, you, Dr. Sewer, as a Jelliclenitarian…”
“A what?” Tugger asked again.
“Ye cannae expect him tae say 'humanitarian’ when we are Jellicles, can ye?”
Misto now held the bridge of his nose. “It’s amazing how quickly one can get a migraine in these flicks… You should release me forthwith and henceforth…”
Tugger went from a blank stare to a startled look as Skimble applied a brain-duster. “Huh? Oh… Ah, we’ll talk about it in the morning…”
“But, Dr. Sewer… Can we change his name to this permanently?”
“You’re pushing it, little buddy…”
“I need to go now, this minute, at once…”
“Go down the hall and take the first door on the right, the one with the Tom symbol on it,” Tugger said, and then got his tail zapped. “OW! I couldn’t help it. You gave me a straight line. Okay, read my lips. No… nada… zilch… zip… the big goose-egg… nope…”
“Then I will beg and kiss your feet…”
“Ach, that I cannae take…” Skimble interrupted. “Rumfield? Can ye tell us frankly your real reason for your wishing tae be free tae-night?”
“Well… Vickie has 'Domi Does Heathrow’ and I hear it’s a hot film…”
Tugger holds up a hand. “I’ll bring the popcorn…”
Tumble also holds up a hand. “Dude! I’ll bring the catnip…”
Pounce makes it a third. “I’ll bring the Old Maid card deck…”
Munkus gives Pounce a brain-duster. “I’ll chip in an anchovy pizza if I can bring Deme and Bomba with me.
Skimble has now reached the point where he no longer has fur on the bridge of his nose. “Misto, please say your line…”
“Dr. Van Hecksling? What can I say? Oh… More to say… Uh, I am not my own master here, so I implore you to let me go. If I am refused, then I will not take the blame for whatever happens… anywhere…”
Tugger nods. “Good. Guys? Let’s go vampire hunting…”
Misto was not through because he grabs Tugger by the ankle and is dragged toward the door. “I implore you (*grunt*) to let me go (*oof*). I really cannot stay (*ack*) here. Can’t you (*argh!*) hear me, you doofus? (*groan*)”
“That was a might low, Misto…”
“Sorry, but it was the line - well most of it…”
“Go sleep it off, Misto, er, Rumfield.”
Misto got up, and patted down his fur. In a regal imitation of Vickie’s 'We are not amused’ pose, he shook his mane. “You will, I trust, Dr. Sewer, do me the justice to bear in mind later on when I grab you by the lapels and scream 'I TOLD YOU SO!’ in your dumb face!”
As Misto went off, Tugger shrugged and grinned at the others. “Crazy people… go figure…”
SCENE SIX: BOMBA BITES THE BIG ONE
The scene shifts to outside the house entrance to the Old Car. Naturally, the door looks like a car boot (trunk for you in the States) and the window sconces look like bats holding the lamps. Munkus, Tugger, Tumble, Pounce and Skimble approach the door looking like the guys in Spiritbusters - backpacks with the radiation symbol on it, big hose going to a super soaker gun, the whole schmier…
“Gentle-Toms? Lose the excess equipment before this scene commences…”
Tumble snorts. “See, Pounce? I told you he wouldn’t go for it…”
“We’re gonna take on Quaxo with reject props from Powderpuff Buffy? We’re all gonna…”
“…Die, I know, Pounce,” Munkus said wearily. “If we do, we’re out of the Parody and go back to chapter one of Annie’s Tribe series…”
Tumble taps Tugger on the shoulder. “Hey, John…? It’s still weird calling you by a human’s name, you know that.”
“I’m beginning to wish I never heard of the guy,” Tugger said, preening the forehead curl of his mane.
“Misto, er, that Rumfield guy sure acted like he was the sane guy here, and had a serious reason for leaving the place. That 'I told you so’ bit was pretty serious.”
“I’ll say,” Tugger nodded, wiping his face. “He spit all over me saying his lines.”
Skimble’s nose has getting a bit threadbare by now. “Friend John, ye know more lunatics than most, and I’m really glad ye do, so I am glad ye decided to toss him back in the bin.”
Tugger shook his head. “I wanted to let him go, really. The yanking on my vest was starting to get into some real pain. But he’s tied in with this Count Drattie. I just know if old Rummy gets loose, he’ll be like Maccie and cause us trouble.”
Skimble nodded. “Ye actually said your lines - nae the ones in the script, but I dinnae think even Rumble cares at this point. This place is probably filled with rats, so I suggest we take the antidote for rat-bites.”
Pulling out a bottle of Scotch, he took a healthy swig, and then passed it around. By the time it got back to him, the bottle was empty.
“There… Now, more conventional things… Each of ye wear a crucifx… Pounce? We said early on that the Star of David doesnae work… And for good measures, wear these flowers.”
Jellylorum comes out dressed in a Hawaiian muumuu with a hibiscus flower behind the ear that said she was taken. In the tradition of greeting, she placed a lei of garlic flowers around each of the Tom’s necks, and giving them a kiss on the cheek. Skimble, however, dipped her before letting her go. Jellylorum staggered out, and Skimble grinned as he removed the flower from between his teeth.
Looking slightly peeved, Munkus shook his head. “Now’s who’s getting something…?”
“After watching ye and Bomba, I just had tae, ye know… Friend John… Do ye still have the key?”
“Right here,” Tugger said, patting a sledgehammer.
Skimble closes his eyes for a moment. “I suppose that will do…”
With one swing, Tugger smashes the doorknob. Another swing smashes a hole in the door. The third swing puts a hole in the wall. Skimble grabs the sledgehammer before Tugger can swing a fourth time.
“Give me that…” he said, and then calmly reaches through the hole in the door and unlocks the door. The hinges creak ominously.
The set changes to the interior of the mansion. It looks remotely like the inside of the creepy ride in Dizzyland called “The Haunted Car Boot…” Cobwebs and dust coat everything.
“The maids haven’t been around for a while from the looks of it,” Pounce said.
Skimble came in, holding a lantern. “Friend John. Ye know this place… So lead the way to the chapel…”
“Moi? You gotta be kidding, Uncle…” Tugger was pushed to the front by the other four Toms. “Okay, okay… This way…”
This time, just as Tugger was about to try the sledgehammer again, Skimble grabbed his wrist. Going up to the door, he turned the knob and the door opened…
“Well, la-de-frickin’ da, Uncle…”
The chapel had several coffin-like boxes in them, but there was evidence that a few of the boxes were missing because of the obvious gaps in a noticeable arrangement.
“We gotta take all of these apart?” Tumble asked.
“Nay, not this scene…” Skimble said sorrowfully, looking down at the page counter. “Ach, 19 pages and we still have a lot tae gae… Back tae the house….”
They exit the chapel set, and go back to the living room set. Bomba meets them there in a nightgown. Periodically, it opens up to show the black lace teddy underneath. The Toms take about three minutes before Bomba shakes her head.
“I don’t know how this little old sash keeps coming untied… Okay, you bozos, enough leering. The reason I’m up and not awaiting Munk in bed is that I heard noises next door in the Funny Farm. Dogs barking, Misto whining… I thought I had left my window shade up again, but Munk wasn’t slobbering on the window…”
“I’ll go check,” Tugger says, and goes to the door. He opens it, and tries to go through it. The trouble is… Shadowdancer is standing in the way.
“Thanks for coming out,” Dancer nods. “Saves me the trip over to the Padded Palace set. Hey, Doc? Rumfield got taken out…”
“Vickie finally got tired of waiting and they went to Jenny’s already?” Tugger grinned.
Dancer gave Tugger a brain-duster. After picking him up and straightening Tugger’s lab coat, Dancer grinned. “No, he’s dead… Broken back, and his whole right side is paralyzed. Now using CSI methodology, I would say that the trauma was not self-inflicted. The broken back and the paralysis might be a common factor but the facial trauma was not part of the injuries to the spinal column. If I were to judge the injuries, I would say that someone worked him over systematically, and then cracked him over his knee, snapping his back like a twig…”
“Thank you for all of that, Dancer,” Bomba said, looking slightly green. “Excuse me while I go lose my dinner in the bathroom…”
Tugger looked puzzled as Bomba went out. “Someone did that with Misto?”
Dancer moved to apply another brain-duster, but Tugger ducked in time. “Script only, Doc. Misto is happy and in his trailer with Vickie. If we’re lucky, the Sound Stage should be adequately soundproofed against outside noises…”
Skimble shook his head. “If Quaxo had actually done that tae Misto, it would’ve been because he caught him fooling around with Scatty. But I seriously doubt that she would allow that. Anything else, Dancer?”
“Yeah… I found one of Bomba’s, er, Mrs. Hardcore’s teddies in there.”
Munkus and Skimble looked at each other, sighed, and nodded.
“Quaxo’s in trouble…” Skimble groaned. “Come! We have to save him, er, her!”
The five Toms dashed to the next room of the Boobyhatch Set and there was Quaxo giving Bomba a hickey. Seeing the Toms, and then the camera, they quickly changed places and
Quaxo was forcing Bomba to give him a hickey.
“The crucifixes!” Skimble yelled out.
Pounce dropped his twice before he held it out… upside down. Tumble gave him a brain-duster, and turned it right-side-up… By that time, Quaxo backed up to the door and fog blew all over the set like the tire going up to the Heavyside. By the time the fans blew it all away, Quaxo was gone.
Munkus looked at the welt on Bomba’s neck. “Wow…”
“I got to teach you how to do that, Munk… Quaxie’s got the touch…”
“Gentle-Toms…”
Bomba looked out under the lights. “Munk? He’s turning that color again…”
“Better do the lines then. Van Hecksling? What does this mean?”
Skimble sighed. “That we need to end this parody before we gae tae 30 pages…”
SCENE SEVEN: TAILS IN THE CRYPT
Skimble watched as the red light went from camera two to camera three. “Ach, one of those scene breaks that changes our point-of-view…”
Rubbing at the mark on her neck, Bomba nodded as the camera turned to her. “Well, now. My mind is made up!”
“To what?” Skimble asked.
“I will ALWAYS read the fine print on my contract before I show up here…”
“Queen Bomba…”
“Geez Louise! Leccy? Check his medications for us… Okay. Line, Munk, so don’t go ballistic on me. If I find in myself any sign of harm to anyone that I love, I shall die! Rumpus… Did they actually talk that way back in the 1900s?”
“Aye…” Skimble nodded. “Ye would kill yourself?”
“Of course. If I can’t have Munk morning, noon, sunset, night and sunrise, why live?”
“Well, there is one slight problem. If ye kill yourself, ye become Undead, and Deme gets Munkus during the day…”
“That’s no fair!” Bomba protested. “Give me a stake. I’ll take care of him myself.”
Munkus leaned in next to Skimble. “If I were Quaxo, or Buffy, I’d watch out for her.”
“My dear Friends… and Tugger…” Skimble said, and got the finger from Tugger. “We now go forth tae hunt down our enemy. We are now armed and ready for him. Madam Mina is safe until this coming sunset. Tae help guard her, I will press this wafer tae her forehead…”
As he did, Bomba looked up as he put the round white wafer against her forehead. “What’s supposed to happen?”
“Ye are supposed tae be burned by it…”
“Really?”
“Please…”
Bomba screamed, and then whispered to Skimble. “Now what?”
“Your lines…”
“Oh, dokie…” She looks at her reflection and sees the smudge mark on her forehead. “Watch this… WAAAAAAAAAAA!!! Dirty… I’m dirty!”
“Unclean…” Skimble growled.
“Whatever…”
Skimble shakes his head. “Ach, I would ask how this could possibly get worse, but I am also afraid someone would answer me… We’ll take care of this, Madam Mina… Come on, everyone… We have an old devil tae stake…”
As the other Toms started out, Munkus stayed behind, looking back at Bomba. As they stand there, looking at each other, Munkus’ voice comes out of the speakers.
“I’ve made up my mind to one thing. If Mina becomes a Vampire in the end, then I’m going with her. Definitely…”
“And here’s one for the road, Munk, er, Johnnie…” Bomba said, turning so only he is able to see her open her bathrobe. Munkus’ eyes widen perceptively, and his jaw drops before he faints. Grinning over her shoulder, she closes her robe. “Yep… The redhead still has it…”
Purrcival looks up as the camera comes on. “I know I see her in the fur all the time, but seeing Bomba open up that robe and exposing her… (*ahem*) This time, Professor Van Hecksling has the other Toms pop each one of the boxes in the Old Car Mansion. In each one, they find a pile of moldy, disgustingly smelly dirt… You know, the kind of dirt you find on a diary farm or a stockyard… Taking communion wafers, which the good Professor got on cBay… uh, that’s Cat-Bay… they put a portion of the wafer in each one. This is supposed to sanctify the, uh, dirt… They also found the other boxes, and did the same to them.”
Turning to the other camera, which does not come on immediately, Purrcival continues. “In the book, there are about a hundred pages or so about them chasing the Count across the world. A sort of 'Around the Crypt in 80 Days’ type thing. Mina, AKA Bomba, is supposed to be somewhat bonded to Count Dratula because of the mutual hickey thing. Thus, she can tell them where he is to a certain extent and they follow just behind him. As they approach Castle Dratula, Van Hecksling puts a “holy circle” around a campfire, and a good thing, too. As the night is misty, the three, uh, SWEET LADIES come out of the fog and stop just outside the ring…”
“(*cough*) I see what Rumble means about the mineral oil fog,” Jellylorum complained.
** It does have a rancid smell… ** Tantomile agreed.
“It smells lioke overdone French froies, it does,” Teazer added.
Bomba is now holding the bridge of her nose. “Get on with this, you buncha old bats…”
“Bombie…” Jelly threatened until Bomba showed off her new dental work. “You know? I can take those out, too…”
** I suggest we do the scene… on three… THREE… **
“Tanks a lot, Tanto…” Teazer growled.
“Come, sister, join us…” they all said, and then posed sweetly…
“Three little Bats from Heck are we
Pert as a vampire well can be
Filled to the brim with bloody glee
Three little Bats from Heck.”
Bomba shakes her head. “No way am I going with you girlfriends…”
Purrcival takes a deep swig of Irn Bru before continuing. “When dawn comes, the THREE LOVELY LADIES are gone and no one has any hickeys, and Bomba hasn’t even bit Munkus… yet, that is… The Toms finally find the ladies… (*In the background, the five Toms open the coffins of the three, and stake them - “AAAACCKKKK!!!!”*) thus taking care of the Gulbreath & Sillymann Mickydo chicks… Van Hecksling finds the tomb of DRATULA, and renders it unlivable… Can he do that to a tomb? Oh… unlivable for a vampire… got you…”
The camera pans in at the three coffins, and there is a bit of fog in each one and a mess of white powder in the shape of a vampire chick…
Purrcival faces the camera with a serious look. “In the book, they chase the hearse bearing the last coffin - the one that Count Dratula, AKA Quaxo, is in. They catch up to the coach, beat their way through dozens of gypsy guards, Quincey, AKA Tumble, gets stabbed, but Johnnie, AKA Munkus, and him still manage to clear the coffin, and pry off the lid. The gypsies are covered by Dr. Sewer…”
“I still hate that name,” Tugger growled off camera, and Purrcival closes his eyes momentarily, and then reopens them.
“And by Lard Gawddarnit, AKA Pounce, covers them with their Super-Soaker-45s. As the sun is about to set, the coffin tilts to show us Count Dratula as his eyes open…”
Camera close-up as Quaxo suddenly opens his eyes, which glow from the klieg lights directly overhead. There is a thunderous organ chord!!!
Purrcival looks a bit embarrassed, and has the book covering his lap when the camera comes back on. Teazer is laughing.
“Wat’s wrong, Purrcy? Ya wet yer fur?”
“Never mind… They do the Buffy bit on the Count, and his body vaporizes…”
The camera shows the coffin with Quaxo still in it, and he is rubbing the bridge of his nose. There are four cracked stakes in the coffin with him, and four dents in his white tuxedo shirt-front.
“If you gentle-toms would allow me to stand up?” Quaxo said stoically. He takes the five one from Pounce’s hand, rams it halfway through the coffin by hand, and then allows the stage crew to throw white powder in the coffin in the shape of the indentation of Quaxo’s body. Quaxo, dusts off his white gloves, adjusts his waistcoat and vest, and then bows to the camera.
“Thank the Great Cat this is over…”
As he exits the stage, the cast and crew gives him a thunderous ovation while the camera zooms in on the now-empty coffin. There is a crescendo of heavenly organ music as the camera shifts to Bomba, who is sitting in the back of the carriage, making out with Munkus… When she comes up for air, she points to her unblemished forehead, and grins.
“The redhead is alive and well, and wishing you would turn off the ruddy camera!”
The camera once more focuses on Purrcival, who closes the book, looks a bit pained, and then forcefully grins at the camera. When he speaks, he is in falsetto.
“And that concludes this performance of Mustardpiece Theatre. As an afterthought… uh, epilogue, the author says that seven years have gone by. Quincey Moreless died that night, which Tumble regretted that it hadn’t happened sooner. Nine months after that night, Mina Hardcore had a red and silver tabby kitten… and they named him Quincey in honor of the fallen Tom… Paternal testing did prove that the kitten was Johnnie’s… And now, for all of the cast and crew, I bid you goodnight, and eat lots of Italian at Jenny’s…”
***** Fade to Black *****
***** Red eyes appear, then fade *****
A Rumblepurr Film Production
A Jellicle Parody Enterprises, ltd. Entertainment
People and Places depicted in this parody are solely the responsibility of your own sick imagination… You should really be sorry for yourself!!!
This film was shot on location, and then buried with cloves of garlic in its coffin, a stake through the film canister, and a ton of crucifixes on it… Including one taken from the steeple of the Vicarage church near Windsor.
No Animals were hurt during the filming of this parody.
A few Jellicles require therapy, but none were physically harmed…
Except Pounce, who suffered a splinter to the left pinky-finger…
The Cast Party at Jenny’s included Spaghetti, Linguini, Ravioli, Pizza and tons of garlic Marinara sauce. Chianti wine was served in abundance…
No actual proof was found that Munkustrap, Bombalurina and Demeter suffered numerous hickeys after the completion of the filming…
Our sincere apologizes to Gilbert & Sullivan for the lyrics change to the Mikado
“Three Little Girls From School”
***** End of Act Two of DRATULA *****
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