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From Romania to France
via America Novels ¥ La Traversee du Styx
(Recrossing the Styx) Plays:
a Tragedy, a Comedy, a Farce & a Highly Controversial Sequel ¥ Flush Game,
or the Gospel According to Henry Miller ¥ Beyond The Styx
Nightingales DonÕt Sing |
FLUSH GAME: Sample Scene Setting, lighting, costumes, choreography, makeup: out of
this world. Flush chamber, funky toilet shaped throne on a pyramidal
platform, chain hanging out from "nowhere," star clock with
mysterious symbols but no hands, and diptych hovering over the throne. An encounter of the
fourth kind is heard in the dark. The star clock flashes in crescendo, then
stops. The chain begins to flash. Number 2 dances with feigned enthusiasm. NUMBER 2: Beyond time,
beyond kissing assÉ NUMBER 1: I flush souls
into flesh—in lumps! (Number 1 pulls the
chain, which makes a toilet flush sound. The chain stops flashing, the
chamber begins to flash.) NUMBER 1: The flush is
in full spinÉ NUMBER 1: But no bull! NUMBER 2:
Number 1's diptych to allÉ NUMBER
1: Value Thy Flesh! (ÒValue
Thy Flesh!Ó is flashed on the diptych. The clock and the chamber cease to
flash. Number 2 stops dancing.) NUMBER 2: Boredom is the
damnation of the Universe. (Pause.) NUMBER 2: What do we do
now, Number 1? NUMBER 1: Infinity of
things. Take your pick. NUMBER
2: Infinite choices, infinite pick. NUMBER 1: We can
teleport ourselves to Lucifer Nova and see what they're up to. NUMBER
2: It's not as fun as it used to be. NUMBER 1: True. We can
enjoy a celestial feast catered by folk-dancing hermaphrodites. NUMBER
2: It gives me celestial farts. NUMBER 1: Tell me about
it! We can go on a search-and-kick-ass mission throughout the Universe. NUMBER 2: Once we kicked
a terrestrial on the cross and earth has never been the same since. NUMBER 1: I don't want
to hear about it! What about crashing a flying saucer on the White House lawn
and see what theyÕll make out of it? Weather balloon or swamp gas? NUMBER
2: We've been better entertained. NUMBER 1: I suppose.
What if I turn into a steroid-pumping stud and you into a naughty housewife? NUMBER 2: We
were—a flush ago. I was the slutty housewife. NUMBER
1: Was it fun? NUMBER
2: No comment. NUMBER 1: You're queer
today. Nothing pleases you. NUMBER
2: I want something new for a change. NUMBER 1: How about
being the stud? NUMBER
2: I was—two flushes ago. NUMBER
1: What exactly are you up to? NUMBER
2: A cosmic premiere. NUMBER 1: Have we
overlooked a premiere? I thought we'd exhausted them all. NUMBER 2: Not exactly.
For instance weÕve never indulged ourselves in a flush game. NUMBER
1: Never heard of it. NUMBER 2: You
know—from no beginning and no end, which is to say beyond time and
kissing ass—the souls Number 1 has been flushing from thy celestial
throne have never had a say about their fate. It's been like sentencing them
for a crime they never committed. NUMBER 1: Are you
insinuating they've been flushed against their will? NUMBER 2: Taking into
consideration the apathy and suicide rate throughout the universe—yes. NUMBER 1:
How many babies have you seen protesting their birth? NUMBER
2: They all cry, Number 1. NUMBER 1: But it's
absurd to give a suckling a choice since it has no concept of life. As`you
know, every soul undergoes absolute amnesia during the act of birth. NUMBER 2: So much the
better. The game works best when the subjects have no past life memory, but
free will. I mean sucklingless subjects who can think and speak for
themselves, free of interference of any kind. All we have to do is tell them
what lifeÕs like and what to expect. YouÕll give them the best scenario; IÕll
give them the worst, provided they both are within the realm of possibility.
You want them flushed; I want them to stay where they are—forever! NUMBER 1: ItÕs against
the Universal Flush Codex to grant a soul eternal elusive wander. NUMBER 2: You can always
make an exception, Number 1. NUMBER 1: I can't afford
one in a universe where exceptions to the rule become the rule! We can still play the
game. But they must go down regardless. NUMBER
2: ItÕs no fun. NUMBER 1: We can play it
for the sake of the experiment. NUMBER
2: ItÕs not the same. NUMBER 1: I suppose
youÕd like an incentive of some sort. Okay, youÕll flush them yourself. NUMBER
2: I will!? NUMBER
1: Only if you win the game. NUMBER 2: (Bowing ceremoniously.)
Thank you, Number 1! ItÕs such an
extraordinary celestial honor. (Yearningly stretches
hand toward the chain.) NUMBER 1: One time only.
In a universe where exceptions to the rule... Shall we begin? NUMBER 2: Yes, Number 1.
Do I get to pick the bodies? Please let me pick the bodies! NUMBER 1: If that
excites you-- NUMBER
2: I prefer the human type. NUMBER 1: Any type but
human! Life on earth is the least appealing in the universe. It puts me at
great disadvantage. NUMBER 2: We may as well
go for the celestial farts and folk dancing. (Pause.) NUMBER 1: Okay. I hate
to cancel a cosmic premiere. It's not something we enjoy from one flush to
another. NUMBER
2: We cannot afford to be bored. NUMBER
1: True. (NUMBER 1 snaps
fingers. The star clock and the chain begin to flash.) NUMBER 1: I suppose I
can pick the place of birth. NUMBER
2: As you wish, Number 1. (Number 1 pulls the
chain. The chain stops flashing. The toilet flush is followed by a brief
flashing of the chamber. The clock ceases to flash.) NUMBER 1: Two souls have
temporarily been committed to random human flesh. NUMBER 2: I assume they
have clothes on. The game works best without distractions, if I may. NUMBER 1: I'll see what
I can do. Absolute amnesia is now erasing past lives' memory. They merely
possess the faculties of speech and reason of modern day Americans along with
their natural gender differences, of course. Here they come–Henry and
June. Let's put on the game masks and give them a few earthly minutes to
acquaint themselves. (Number puts on the
mask of comedy. Number 2 puts on the mask of tragedy. Henry and June rush out
of the flush chamber like panicked aborigines. They stumble into each other,
making angry sounds. Number 1's attempt to cover them up is both humorous and
sexy.) NUMBER 2: Are they
supposed to be born in North America or in the Amazon? NUMBER
1: IÕm working on it. (Number 1 snaps
fingers. Henry and June walk normally. Lost and confused, they stumble into
each other once again.) JUNE:
Besmeticule, uita-te pe unde mergi! HENRY:
Tu uita-te pe unde-ti 'nvirti toapele! NUMBER 2: TheyÕre
speaking Romanian, Number 1. DonÕt you think English is more proper? NUMBER
1: Not necessarily. JUNE:
Mata are toape! HENRY:
Trage-ti-as muie! NUMBER
1: WhatÕs "muie"? NUMBER 2: My Romanian is
rusty. NUMBER 1: Okay. IÕll
have them speak English. (Number
1 snaps fingers.) HENRY: Excuse me, ma'am,
you don't happen to know where the hell we are? JUNE: No clue. I'm lost
too. What's your name? (Number
1 snaps fingers.) HENRY:
Henry. JUNE:
I'm June. HENRY: Nice to meet you.
Are you real or just a nightmare? (June
pulls hair off his chest.) HENRY:
Ouch! What was that for? JUNE: To answer your
question. (They wander some
more.) What do you do for a
living? HENRY:
Funny, I can't remember. (Number
1 snaps fingers.) HENRY:
I write. JUNE: What? HENRY: Personal stuff.
Nobody seems to like it. They all say, "If you canÕt write a
best-seller, you're wasting your time." So be it. JUNE: Once I knew a
writer. A sexist and misogynist! Didn't know shit about women. HENRY:
What did you do to him? JUNE:
I married him. (Number
1 snaps fingers.) HENRY:
IÕd say nature has been generous to you. JUNE:
Fuck, you must fire your tailor! (Acknowledging her flimsy dress.) This is weird. HENRY: YouÕve got
luscious curves and luring thighs... YouÕre Pygmalion's swan song. JUNE: What does nudity have to do with art? HENRY:
Everything! JUNE:
You've got potential. HENRY:
Irresistible, natural armpits, hairy legs et all... JUNE:
Are you being sarcastic? HENRY: Alas, no! I just
go nuts for beauty in its raw state. JUNE:
I like you. HENRY: (Accent.) Does it mean Count Bruga gets a free hand? JUNE: Do I know you?
Count Bruga sounds awfully familiar. HENRY:
Funny how it popped into my head. NUMBER
2: Number 1, are you beyond all doubts that absolute amnesia has erased all
past livesÕ memory? NUMBER 1: Absolutely.
ThatÕs just sheer coincidence. JUNE: Beware, IÕm like
an iceberg. You crank up the heat and IÕll drown you. HENRY: (Accent.) You can melt all you like. Count Bruga's a good
swimmer. He'll set your bush ablaze, make your ovaries incandescentÉ JUNE:
Keep talking! HENRY: Then he'll widen
the shores and iron out all the wrinkles... JUNE: Don't stop now! HENRY: (Accent.) And when you shout profanities to heaven, he shoots
vintage champagne sky high so you can smack your lips with delight: What an
excellent year! JUNE:
Oh, this is vile! (Number
1 snaps fingers.) NUMBER 1: (To Henry
and June.) Buna prieteni. Scuzati-ma ca
va intrerup, dar... NUMBER
2: English, Number 1! NUMBER 1: Right. Hello,
my friends. I apologize for dropping like a fly into your vintage, but tempus
fugit—even in a place like this. HENRY: Where do these
overrated faces come from? JUNE: (To Number 1
and Number 2.) Go fuck yourselves some
place else! The joint is taken. HENRY: Is that supposed
to be a clock? NUMBER 2: Allow me to
introduce Number 1, the head of the celestial flushing department. I am the
Number 2. Welcome to where no human has set foot before! HENRY:
What kind of toilet is that? NUMBER 2: This is the
cosmic chamber that flushes souls into the newborn throughout the universe in
strict compliance with the Universal Flush Codex. JUNE: Never met anyone
trying to flush so much crap down my throat! NUMBER 1:
June, me lass, I assure you my crap stinks better than anyone elseÕs in the
Universe. JUNE:
How do you know my name? NUMBER 1: I'm
responsible for your genesis. And Henry's, too. HENRY:
I'm going! Nice meeting you. JUNE:
Wait for me! NUMBER 1: Humans are
such pain-in-the-ass creatures. NUMBER 2: Number 1, I
suggest you do something. Otherwise we're wasting precious game time. NUMBER 1: YouÕre
absolutely right. (Snaps fingers. A blue light falls on Henry and
June.) JUNE:
I can't move! HENRY:
What did you do to us? NUMBER 2: Number 1 has
just performed a little miracle. JUNE: Let go of me! I believe you. NUMBER 1: Henry, are you
going to stick around? HENRY:
Do I have a choice? NUMBER
2: Soon. (Number 1 snaps
fingers. The light disappears.) NUMBER
1: Now we can get started. NUMBER 2: Dear souls,
Number 1 has invited you—in the flesh—for a lofty purpose: For
the very first time ever you are privileged to choose your own
destiny—eternal elusive wandering throughout the universe versus human
life on a tiny blue planet at the outskirts of some insignificant galaxy. JUNE:
Are you saying we're dead? NUMBER 2: What you call
death we refer to as Soul Elusive Wander. NUMBER 1: Let's just say
death is a change of address, not a disaster. HENRY:
How long have we been wandering? NUMBER
2: Not long. HENRY:
(Gazing at the clock.) What time is
it? NUMBER 2: For us: itÕs
always now. For you: XXX on XXX. (Use the exact time
during the performance and the date of the performance.) JUNE:
Can we see your faces? NUMBER 1: There's too
much to see and we haven't got the time. There are just too many sucklings
out there waiting for their souls. HENRY:
Too many suckers? NUMBER
2: That too. NUMBER 1: I only meant
the newborn, cry face! NUMBER
2: Sorry, Number 1. HENRY:
I could have sworn you said suckers. NUMBER
1: Shall we move on to something else? HENRY:
Fine with me. JUNE:
Is this what humans are supposed to look like? NUMBER 2: Yes. Yet no
two humans are exactly alike. JUNE: Will this be my
body? NUMBER 2: Unlikely. Your
present body is a random pick. JUNE:
Why are we nearly naked? I wouldn't call this haute couture. NUMBER 2: Everybody is
naked at birth. But not as clean. NUMBER
1: Are you embarrassed? HENRY:
Not me! JUNE: I have to admit I
do enjoy the breeze between my legs. HENRY:
WhatÕs elusive wandering like? NUMBER 1: A whopping
mystery. Mysterium tremendum! NUMBER
2: There is peace. (Number
1 frowns.) Sorry,
Number 1. NUMBER 1: You're allowed
to make your choice based on earthly life alone. As soon as you stop asking
questions, you'll learn more about it. JUNE: Seems to me like
choosing between two men after sleeping with just one. NUMBER
2: SheÕs got a point. NUMBER 1: Hands off
PandoraÕs box before you find yourselves wandering all you like in the
company of ghosts, vampires and poltergeists! (To Number 2.) And that goes for you too, suck face! NUMBER 2: (Bowing
apologetically.) Your ExcellencyÉ (To
Henry and June.) I suggest you pay heed
to what Number 1 and I have to say about life on earth. Your future depends
on it. NUMBER 1: If you choose
human life, which I strongly recommend, your birthday should be at the very
beginning of the third millennium, A.D. Country of birth: United States of
America. NUMBER 2: Objection,
Number 1. Choosing United States puts me at great disadvantage. Why not
Ethiopia or Bosnia? Why not Romania? NUMBER 1: Objection
overruled!
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