Wolves Against Pants, Scene V: Sirens Fair and Foul

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
A group of intelligent if easily side-tracked college students get together for a study group that descends into chaos.

Submitted: September 11, 2012

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Submitted: September 11, 2012

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Setting: In the appartment. Ula, Cadfan, and Alita are seated in the foreground on the floor in a rookery of books, papers, notecards, and pens. In the background, Lowell ministers unobtrusively to Canagan who lies on the sofa in a bathrobe.

 

Alita: That's just how I remember them--Michelangelo's David is Horus, and Donatello's David is Lowell.

 

Ula: An easy mnemonic device for you who needn't live with the one you're associating with a nude.

 

Alita: Lowell is kind of hot--just saying.

 

Cadfan: Ah, so, identify this one. [He holds up a notecard on which someone has taped a printout]

 

Ula: I'm curious, Cadfan--how do you remember these works of art rendered in digital minature?

 

Cadfan: Well, like Alita, I suppose that I use a system of association though it's far less personal. I look for the distinct stylistic elements that characterize the work of a particular artist.

 

Alita: No offense, but I can't believe that you're related to Canagan.

 

Cadfan: None taken.

 

Ula: Gianlorenzo Bernini's David.

 

Cadfan: Mmm? Ah, yes, that would be correct. Heeey, you weren't buying time back there, were you?

 

Alita: Yeah, she does that.

 

Ula: Sorry--such was the initial motivation, but...your response was genuinely interesting...and, ah, was indicative of sundry admirable traits...Anyone else care for a drink? [She scurries off to the kitchen before anyone can react]

 

Alita: Know what? This has never happened before.

 

Cadfan [Turns his head with slight alarm in the direction in which Ula disappeared]: Is there reason to be concerned?

 

Alita [Laughs]: No, I meant that we've never gotten any studying done at one of these things in the past. Usually, we get together; then, everything goes to--

 

Swan [bursting into the appartment]: Ula! Where's that cross-dressing, law-flauting--

 

Alita: Gods, Canagan! You ruin things even when you're unconscious!

 

Cadfan: Good evening. Madam Swan, I presume? I'm Cadfan, Canagan's brother who, as it happens, is presently indisposed.

 

Ula [returning from the kitchen with three glasses]: I'm afraid that we've naught but--Landlady Swan! How may I be of--

 

Swan: You're related? To HIM? Ula, as your elder, I advise you to lose fem-Socrates and the queen and shack up with this one.

 

Canagan [rising up groggily]: Did someone imply that the quality of a woman's life is to any degree dependent upon a male figure? I object.

 

Lowell [supporting Canagan as they approach the foreground]: By what standard ought we to ascribe to our lives value? As creatures fundamentally limited in knowledge and perception, should we take on the mantles of judicators of our own--

 

Swan [shaking the fish at Canagan]: Do you know what this is?

 

Lowell: Can we truly be said to know--

 

Canagan: How dare you! How DARE you! Have you no respect for the--

 

Swan: This is a blatant violation of--

 

Canagan: Where's my dress? What are these coarse robes attriting my skin?

 

Alita: That was MY dress you--

 

Canagan [to Ula]: Did you--

 

Ula: Twas your brother.

 

Swan: Stop changing the subject! You put this fish--

 

Lowell: Ah, but now that Wanda is no longer among us, can one still refer to her as a fish? When we pass from the pages of this book, what form do we--

 

Canagan: You know how sensitive is my skin! Yet you adorn my near-lifeless body with terry cloth?!

 

Cadfan: A thousand pardons, but the article bears your initials, so--

 

Alita: Just get over it you ninny! Cadfan was only trying to--

 

Ula: As I recall, you had the interior lined with--

 

Swan: Fish! In! Bag!

 

Canagan: You filthy resurrection woman! What gross acedia led you to put our misfortunate friend into plastic? Plastic! Gods, avert your eyes from this travesty! A fate as ignominious as this, I would not wish upon--

 

Lowell: Does her spirit yet reside with us? [Canagan stalks off] If so, has it the capacity to take offense? Has she always been possessed of such a--

 

Swan: Come back here, you--[Begins to flail wildly in Canagan's direction]

 

Ula: Please becalm yourself, Landlady Swan! You might inadvertently strike Low--[Swan accidently strikes Cadfan, and he stumbles into Alita]

 

Cadfan [to Alita]: Ah! I beg your pardon!

 

Alita: It's--[Swan swats her with the fish] Gods! Watch it!

 

Canagan [storming back in with a bottle of alcohol and a lighter]: I demand the cession of Wanda's body immediately!

 

Swan [throwing it at him]: And don't you dare stuff it back under my--[Cannagan has removed the fish from the baggy and doused it with spirit]

 

Cadfan: Brother, stop! Ula, he's about to--

 

Canagan: A plague upon what seeming-fair siren sang you to your untimely demise.

 

Ula: Canagan! The robe--[He lights up the fish, but his sleeve catches fire as well]

 

Canagan [noticing the fire, he begins to flap his arm]: This gods-forsaken terry cloth deigns to immolate me! [The fire alarm sounds]

 

Lowell: To whom would those forsaken by their gods offer a--

 

Alita: Stop, drop, and roll, fool! [The curtain closes, and sirens can be heard in the distance]

 

FIN Act: Requiem for a Fish


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