I thank you all.
A Christmas Carol
(or “Bah, GFY”)
Dramatis Personæ:
Totem: A successful proprietor of renown
Nobby: A Clerk
Jophiel: A Clerk’s apprentice
Moebius: A tradesman
Smasharoo: A scholar
Skeet: A transsexual flower-seller
Pickle Prince: A Prolapse
Kaolian: An Adjudicator
Katie: A Street-Harlot
Varrussword: An unwelcome interruption
Varrussword’s father: some soldiers
GitSlayer: A Lawnmower
Goose: A premature ejaculation
Yanari: A wise woman
Tare: An incubator
Walkerscrisps: A tasty British snack (New Marmite flavor)
mentalfrog: A shapeless form in the alley
Twiztid: A Hattori Hanso blade
Aegisfang: A de-frocked Goat-Herd
stok: A latté
Qaoz: A sock
Gadin: An out-take who everybody would like to see impaled on a spike
Gadin: A neglected yet alluring thing
Redyne: A Panda Acrobat
Nadenu: An irregular verb
The tareling: A cute infant too young for this presentation
(Other parts are played by divers and sundry members of the company)
Act I Scene I
A squalid internet gamers’ forum in Olde London Towne. The room is chill, and lit only by a candle sputtering in the draught from a loose window-frame.
Several gamers are scratching upon parchment with quills.
Nobby: Mr Totem sir? Tomorrow is Christmas day. Might we finish at 6 O’ Clock so we can see our children before night falls? We can not afford candle nor lamp for to light our homes.
Totem: (for it is he) GFY
Nobby: Why thank you sir.
Act I Scene II
A User Journal in the squalid depths of the suburbs
Nobby: Well ‘pon my soul. I asked Master Totem for some time off at Christmas, and he didn’t castrate or behead me!
Pickle Prince: Good Lord bless us every one, Nob! But he did fire you?
Moebius: : Aye. He did render you asunder, aiight?
Nobby: Nay! He did but dock me two weeks pay and claim my first born to sell unto white ghey slavers
Dracoid: Thou woulds’t not sell me Father ?!!!!oneone!!!eleven??
Nobby: Sorry Dracoid. He did offer unto me 2 pieces of belly-button fluff and ten minutes alone with Tare. Bye!! K-Thx-La
Dracoid: Fu[/i]cking capitalists!
[i]Exit Dracoid stage extreme Left
Act I Scene III
An off-topic discussion area frequented only by the lowest life-forms of the Forum
Totem: Bahh these squirmy white-assed liberal ******** They work a pitiful 18 hours a day and expect time off for candy-assed holidays!
Smasharoo: What? You right wing motherfu[/b]cker!
[b]Totem: Rate down for joo, Bahhstaaan liberal wastrel! My workers are my property! GFY!
Smasharoo: Whatever!
Smasharoo Glances down at the cards in his hand and looks away from Totem.
Smasharoo: I’ll call your Hansom-Cab and raise you a plantation!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act II Scene I
A room of ffxi stalwarts. The air is thick with the smell of teen angst and the sound of adolescent hormones. The door opens abruptly, a blast of cold air flecked with snowflakes riffles the pages of anime comics. A large figure fills the door-frame, his Dr Seuss hat scrapes under the door frame as he strides into the room.
Moebius: ‘Sup Mooglefu[/b]ckers?
[b] ffxiers: eep!
Moebius: I didn’t wait for an invite. Just felt the urge to illuminate your pitiful lives with some words of wisdom.
ffxiers: (cowering behind a table) W-w-w-we’re n-n-not af-f-fraid of you!
Moebius removes a can of paint and a brush from the voluminous pocket of his overcoat, pushes the table aside and looks pensively at the wall, before daubing in three foot high letters the words “Go Fu[b]ck Yourselves[/b]”
He turns slowly, steps through the growing pool of ffxi’er urine and leaves.
ffxiers: Hahaha! W3 pwn3d t3h n00b! We ar3 t3h l337!
They excitedly chant about how courageously each had humiliated Moebius and munch on each others’ butts.
Act II Scene II
A small hovel warmed and lit only by a candle-stub. A small child sits in the corner absent-mindedly doodling obscenities in the dust on the floor and softly singing an old nursery-rhyme about a catholic priest, a playstation and a protracted legal process involving hidden cameras and a goat.
In a rocking chair by the unlit fire sits Nobby. He looks wistfully at his last remaining child and a tear runs down his leg.
Nobby: I’m so sorry we won’t have a proper Christmas this year, Noblet, but Daddy has to work tomorrow. If I don’t go to work, we’ll never be able to afford to pay Master Allakhazam his subscription.
Noblet: I understand Daddy. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.
Nobby: But it’s not fine is it Noblet? As we shiver here, I bet Master Totem is warm, well fed and happy.
Noblet: Well Daddy, he may be warm and well fed, but just remember. He has to live with the fact that he’s a total cu[/b]nt
Nobby looks affectionately at his son and smiles fondly.
[b]Nobby: Ahh, Noblet my boy. GFY.
Act II Scene III
We return to the off-topic area, where Smasharoo is clearly having a successful night with the cards.
Totem is sitting uncomfortably in the chair across from his opponent, wearing nothing but a pair of pink Speedos and a thunderous frown.
Smasharoo: Had enough yet fu[/i]ck-face?
Totem: Never. I’ll not be beaten by a Kerry-loving co[i]ck-sucker like you.
Smasharoo: But what are you gonna bet with? I’ve taken you for pretty near everything you own.
Totem: Okay, ******. Sh[/i]it or Bust. All or nothing ~ I’ll bet you what’s in the pot against my workhouse! That’s gotta be worth at least $500
Smasharoo: Hmm. Anything else?
Totem: OK. I’ll throw in Katie. That should make the deal worth, say $500 and 25 cents?
Smasharoo:Done.
The cards are dealt. There is no sound but the scratch of the cards on the table and the sound of Smasharoo’s ego fluttering around the room.
Smasharoo gazes up from under a foppish floppy fringe, slowly scratching his chins.
Smasharoo:You first.
A white smile creeps across Totem’s ebony face like a rip in an albino’s wet-suit.
He slowly and deliberately places each card face up to reveal a full house.
Smasharoo’s face remains emotionless, like an emotionless thing that shows no emotion.
Then, with a flourish that is slightly ghey, but he thinks he has got away with, he throws down his cards.
Smasharoo: Five Aces, sh[i]it-kicker!!
A disembodied voice booms as if from nowhere.
Kaolian: He beat ya fair and square Totem.
Totem throws the table aside and storms up the stairs, shouting over his shoulder as he goes.
Totem:Take the damn workhouse and those good-for-nothing Limeys. The key’s on the mantelpiece. Now GFY.
Act II Scene IV
Totem’s Boudoir.
A vast room adorned with brocade, velour, baroque mouldings and oil paintings. At first it appears sumptuous and sophisticated, but on closer inspection the portraits are tasteless re-printed reproductions of Motown album covers. In a corner is a rather disturbing stalker’s shrine adorned with photos and newspaper clippings of Michael Jackson. The room smells vaguely of helicopters and Beyoncé Knowles.
In the center of the room sits an auspicious four poster bed, the gossamer-thin chiffon curtains look almost like cobwebs. On the bed lies a naked, sleeping Totem, his manhood trailing over the side of the goose-down mattress like a sleeping black mamba.
He moans and turns in his sleep. With a start, he sits bolt-upright.
Totem: Whaddat? Smash? Datchoo?
A distant sound of clanking chains echoes around the room. The sound comes closer, and with the rise in its volume, the whites of Totem’s eyes expand in fear.
Totem:WTF!!
Thundra: TOTEM!
Totem:WTF!!
Thundra: (louder) TOTEM!
Totem: Thundra? That you mo’fo’?
Thundra: I am the Sock of Christmas Past!!
Thundra waves a hand in a kind of a ghey Peewee Herman way. The whole room shimmers and both Totem and Thundra are transported to the Forum.
A small black child sits on a chair at a sumptuously laden dinner table. The plates are piled high with corn-bread, mangoes, jambalaya, fried chicken, Okra and (strangely), Pan-fried medallions of veal on a bed of sautéed cous-cous with a cranberry jus.
The child is smiling and feasting, the sound of a doting mother pottering in the kitchen drifts through the room.
Thundra: Remember this Totem?
Totem: That’s me! That’s my Mom cooking in the kitchen. It’s my 11th Birthday and I’ve just received the birthday gift from my father!
Thundra: Remember what the gift was Totem?
Totem:Sure! 15 minutes in bed with Katie. My first time!
Thundra: Think on this.
With a sway of the hips and a line from a Judy Garland Movie, Thundra waves his hand and vanishes.
Totem finds himself back in the bedroom, alone, cold and afraid. The sense of well-being from the childhood memory fades from his sweat-beaded face.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act III Scene I
A street in the dark side of town. Sewage flows along the gutters nearby, and a shapeless form lies slumped in a doorway.
The form shifts and it becomes clear that it is made up of two shabbily-dressed people. One stands up, fastens his zipper and flicks a coin at the other.
inasnum Thanks honey!
The shapeless form remains silent and motionless
inasnum Hey. You were good! Not want the nickel?
The shapeless form remains silent and motionless
A passer-by notices the scene, stoops and checks the motionless bundle on the floor.
Varrussword I think she’s dead
inasnum Seriously?
Varrussword Stone dead. Stone cold. Prolly been dead a day or two.
inasnum Cool!
inasnum stoops, picks up the nickel and walks away.
Varrussword unfastens his zipper and crouches by the motionless form
Act III Scene II
Totem’s Boudoir again.
He lies sweating on the mattress trying to sleep.
He sniffs the air. He can clearly smell something sweet, soothing, enchanting. He relaxes.
The door is thrown violently open and the cobweb curtains of the bed are blown away.
Totem:WTF!!
Jophiel:’Sup dood?
Totem:OMG. Who are you?
Jophiel:Like, I’m sooo totally the Sock of Christmas Present.
Totem:No Way!
Jophiel:Way!
Jophiel performs an extravagant air-guitar lick. The whole room shimmers and both Totem and Jophiel are transported to the Forum.
The room is full of the babble of Asylum regulars. Amid the hubbub occasional words can be distinguished.
Rabble: bla bla bla GFY bla bla bla Kerry bla bla bla Karma Camp bla bla bla WoW Beta bla bla bla
Above the din comes a clear, booming voice
Voice of Totem:Now GFY or I’ll flame your *** and Karma Camp you ‘til you’re sub-default and begging for your daddy
Qaoz:I haven’t said anything yet!
Voice of Totem:Oh! Want some more you whiney-assed Danish ******? I own your sorry ***!
Qaoz:I only came here to wish you all Happy Christmas! (He begins to sob)
Voice of Totem:pwn3d!!!!
Jophiel:Remember your first visit to the forum ?
Totem: Sure
Jophiel:Feel good about yourself now, d00d?
Totem: (quietly, under his breath)sure.
With a riff from “Stairway” and a cry of “Denied”, Jophiel waves his hand and vanishes.
Totem finds himself back in the bedroom. He stares ahead.
Act III Scene III
Nobby’s Hovel.
Noblet is curled up by the candle, sleeping but shivering. Nobby stirs from the sack of straw that is his bed, trying to avoid waking Noblet.
He creeps toward the door, muttering quietly under his breath.
Nobby: Fu[/i]cking Totem! Fu[i]cking capitalist *******.
He closes the door quietly behind him.
Act III Scene IV
The street.
As Nobby stoops into the icy wind, the collar of his coat pulled around his ears, a voice calls out from a dark alley.
Skeet: Hey Mister!
Nobby looks around to find the source of the words.
Nobby: Hello?
Skeet: Wanna buy a transsexual flower?
Nobby: What?
Skeet: Wanna buy a transsexual flower?
Nobby: Sorry Miss, err, Mr. I’m penniless
Skeet: Same here, but I am in dire financial trouble.
Nobby: Trouble?
Skeet: Yep. I fell in love with a latin jewel. She captured my heart, stole my very soul and so I went on bended knee and asked for her to be my true love until the very sands of time run dry
Nobby: Fu[/i]ckin’ Hell! Why?
Skeet: Well I figured that after such a romantic gesture, she might let me do her
Nobby: Sounds fair enough.
Skeet: Yeah, but now I owe Master Totem $100 for the ring I gave her
Nobby: Sh[/b]it man, that sucks
[b]Skeet: Word!
Nobby takes a coin from his pocket and gazes at it.
Nobby: Look, this is all I have, and I was saving it to buy my last surviving child an Allakhazam subscription but, hey. Your need is greater than mine
Skeet: Sh[/b]it man. Thanks!
[b]Nobby: NP.
Nobby shuffles away in the cold dark air of the winter’s dawn
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act IV Scene I
An anarcho-syndicalist collective in New England. The air is filled with the sound of Haahvahd graduates discussing Proust and gazing lustfully at pictures of Bobby Kennedy. An 8-track player blasts out Bob Dylan songs and the TV is tuned to the “Discovery Liberal Conspiracy Peacenik” channel.
Smasharoo: So I showed him the 5 aces, and before he could bat an eyelid, Kaolian called ‘fair’, and that’s how I’m now the owner of a gamer’s forum workhouse
Tare: [i](raising her head from Smash’s lap) Wow! Cool!
Nadenu: (raising her head from Smash’s lap) You’re awesome!
Katie: (raising her head from Tare’s lap) You’re sooooo sexxay!
Smasharoo: (glancing idly at his manicured finger-nails) I know.
A small red L.E.D. blinks at the side of Smash’s bedside table. He casts aside an Armani condom and reaches for a discrete tortoise-shell phone handset.
Smasharoo: Aiiii?
[/sm]Squeaky telephone sounds like Officer Dibble when Top-Cat answered the phone in the ally[/sm]
Smasharoo: I do?
[/sm]Squeaky telephone sounds like Officer Dibble when Top-Cat answered the phone in the ally[/sm]
Smasharoo: I do?
[/sm]Squeaky telephone sounds like Officer Dibble when Top-Cat answered the phone in the ally[/sm]
Smasharoo: He did?
[/sm]Squeaky telephone sounds like Officer Dibble when Top-Cat answered the phone in the ally[/sm]
Smasharoo: I’ll be right there!
He leaps from the bed, casting aside Nadenu, Tare, Katie and Twiztid. Twiztid spits a strange fluid and chokes.
Smasharoo: Sorry laydeeez. I have socialist liberal limp-wristed duties to perform!
Smash spins around three times and vanishes in a haze of self-righteousness
Act IV Scene II
Totem’s boudoir
Totems sits on the mattress, his knees tucked under his chin, and a look of despair on his face.
Before his eyes, a hazy mist appears. It becomes denser and takes on the form of a small creature floating in the air, gradually growing in size.
Totem:What now?
The shape separates into two huge, slowly blinking eyes
Totem:Who are you?
Allakhazam: I am the Sock of Christmas yet to come
Allakhazam: Come
Totem:What?
Allakhazam: Come !
The eyes blink, the whole room shimmers and both Totem and Allakhazam are transported to the Forum.
Allakhazam: Listen
Totem: To What? I can’t hear anything
As Totem looks around, he notices dust and cobwebs strewn across empty threads.
Totem: What’s the date? When are we?
Allakhazam: June 2007
Totem: But all of these posts are months old!
Totem dusts the dirt from the most recent thread and reads aloud
Totem: Subject, “Where is everybody”, started by “Skeet”, replies ‘2’, last post “varrussword” Rating “Awful 1.32” OMFG! What happened to the forum?
Allakhazam’s huge eyes gaze at the recent visitors list. There is just 1; “Totem”
Allakhazam: They all left. For the last 3 months the highest Karma was 1.8, and that was a stray ffxier. The Flame wars got out of hand, nine out of ten posts were either a simple “GFY” or a “FTFY”
Totem: B-b-but why?
Allakhazam:Times moved on. WoW was released, Everquest3 stole away the last EQ player, and only the Asylum survived. But the members drifted away as their subscriptions expired. See? Not one avatar in the whole Forum. You were the last Premium Member.
Totem: Why did all the Premiums expire?
Allakhazam: After the workhouse closed down, there was no work to be found. Even Katie ran out of customers. Varrussword seemed to sell okra now and then, but the workhouse closing. . . . That was the beginning of the end.
Totem: (looking glum) I’ve seen enough
Allakhazam blinks and vanishes.
Totem finds himself back in the bedroom. He stares ahead briefly, then leaps to his feet.
Totem: Right! Let the forum die? We’ll see about that!
Act IV Scene III
Nobby’s Hovel
Noblet is sitting cross-legged by the hearth. Although he is holding his hands up to the fireplace, he’s shivering, as there’s no fire. He sings a happy tune about psoriasis, lung infections and Bette Midler.
The door bursts open.
Totem:Nobby! Where’s Nobby?
Noblet: Who are you?
Totem: Hello little boy! I’m Master Totem. And who are you?
Totem smiles sweetly at the child and ruffles his hair
Noblet: Ooh! Are you the ‘Master Totem’ that daddy says is a co[/i]cksucking motherfu[i]cker?
Totem’s smile flickers for a moment, but spreads even wiser.
Totem: Well if you see him before I do, wish him a Merry Christmas from Master Totem
Noblet: GFY
Totem steps out into the street. A small, annoying and slightly smelly creature approaches him.
Zadiel: Hey, aren’t you Totem?
Totem: Pardon?
Zadiel: I said, aren’t you Totem?
Totem: What?
Zadiel: I asked if you’reTotem?
Totem: Bahh. Fu[/i]ckin’ non-speaking characters
Act IV Scene IV
We find ourselves once again in the squalid internet gamers’ forum in Olde London Towne. The door opens and Nobby enters, blowing his hands to try to ease the chill.
He looks around with a puzzled expression on his face. The room is noticeably cleaner than when we last saw it. In the fireplace, a log fire crackles, casting dancing shadows around the room.
Nobby: Fu[/b]ck me gently! A Fire!
Nobby stands by the fire and savors the warmth. He sniffs the air and looks around again.
[b]Nobby: What’s that smell? Why! It smells like Turkey!!
Smasharoo: It’s a Tofu Festive Roast actually. See, my wife’s vegan, which pretty much makes me vegan.
Nobby leaps in surprise. He swivels and for the first time notices Smasharoo sitting in Master Totem’s chair, Cuban heeled boots resting on the desk, puffing on a clay pipe that smells slightly more ‘Woodstock’ than ‘**********
Nobby:Who are you?
Smasharoo: Well, technically, I’m your new boss.
Nobby: WTF?
Smasharoo: Yep. I won this place in a poker game from Totem, so that means, as Totem would say, “You mah Ni[/b]gguh now, boy!”
[b]Nobby: Oh Crap. Out of the frying pan, into the George Foreman low-fat grill
Smasharoo leans forward, his fringe flopping over his face in a way that makes George Michael fisting Elton John seem butch.
Smasharoo: So what’s your name?
Nobby: Err. Nobby. Yours?
Smasharoo: Well, there are those who call me. . . . Tim
Nobby: ?
Smasharoo: But you can call me Smash
Smasharoo: So what do you do here?
Nobby: I fix things
Smasharoo: Fix things?
Nobby: Yeah, fix things.
Smasharoo: So what sort of things do you fix? And How?
Nobby: So what sort of things do you fu[b]ck? And will you do me? [/b] FTFY
Smasharoo: Oh I see! Fixed!
Nobby: Yup.
Smasharoo: So what did Totem pay you? You should know I’m a wealthy liberal philanthropist with a penchant for flamboyant and extravagant gestures of kindness
Nobby: Really? Erm. Well I was paid 2 groats a year, minus rent, minus dental care
Smasharoo: I can see that
Nobby: GFY
Smasharoo:OK. As of now, your rent is free, you’re on sixpence a day, and I’ll sort you out with some dentures
Nobby: Seriously?
Smasharoo: Sure. Here’s a Gold Sovereign.
Nobby: Fu[/b]ckin’ ‘ell! Nice one!
[b]Smasharoo: My pleasure
Nobby: Wow. Noblet will be so excited!
Smasharoo: Who’s Noblet?
Nobby: My youngest son
Smasharoo: How many you got?
Nobby: Just the one
Smasharoo: You said ‘Youngest’
Nobby: Oh, I did have another, but Totem sold him
Smasharoo: Sheez! Let me buy him back for you
Nobby: Naah. ‘sOK thanx.
The door bursts open and a dark figure fills the doorway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
INTERVAL
Cold drinks and ice-cream will be served in the lobby. Please remember to tip the waitress. The performance will resume shortly
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act V Scene I
Aegisfang Battlehammer’s Kosher Wholefoods and Fancy Goods Emporium.
Totem: Oh, and a coupla dozen Oysters. Actually, make that three dozen.
Aegisfang: Yes sir Master Totem Sir. Want any Goats with that?
Totem: Nope, that’s just fine thanks. Put it on the usual account and have it delivered to the Workhouse
Aegisfang: I’ll try Master Totem, but that’s 4 cart-loads of stuff you’ve ordered
Totem: I know. Do the best you can Aegis. Oh, and this is for your troubles
He tosses a card over to Aegis
Aegisfang: Oh Wow! Awesome! A month’s free pass to the Goat Pole-dancing Club! Sheez, thanks Master Totem!
As Totem sashays out of the store, Aegisfang mutters to himself
Aegisfang: Dayam. And he’s normally such a vicious bastage!
Act V Scene II
A slavers market.
A noisy crowd surrounds a low stage, their voices alive with anticipation.
gbaji: And now ladies and gentlemen, for your delectation and delight, the final sale of this auction. Yessireee, the one you’ve been waiting for; the most exciting item to come on the market since. . . .
gbaji speaks for another 30 minutes without actually saying anything
TStephens: GET ON WITH IT!!!!
gbaji: So as I was saying, for the first time ever, I ask for your bids on a Bona Fide Communist!
A small spotty thing shuffles onto the stage, grease dripping from its hair, the afternoon sunlight glinting off its zits
Gbaji pokes the communist with a stick
Dracoid: Help! Help! I’m being oppressed! Come see the violence inherent in the system!
gbaji: Who will start the bidding! Do I have $5?
Xythex: Here!
XvExodusvX: $20!
Nephthys: $50!
Gadin:$75
Saboruto: Is he a virgin?
gbaji: Drac? You a virgin?
Dracoid: I refuse to answer such a bourgeois question!
gbaji: I think that’s a ‘Yes’ folks!
Saboruto: $5,000
The crowd instantly becomes silent.
gbaji: Did you say $5,000?
Saboruto: I did!
gbaji: You’d pay $5,000 for . . . for this?
Saboruto: Sure. I run a ghey sheep-shearer’s brothel in a little town called Didjabringabeeralong. I’ll get it back
Dracoid: Crapsh[/b]itfu[b]ck
The Crowd: Pwn3d!!11one!1eleven1!!
Act V Scene III
Nobby’s Hovel
The door opens and Nobby bursts in.
Noblet: Daddy? Why are you home so early? You – you didn’t get fired did you?
Nobby: No Noblet! Good News! Master Totem lost the workhouse to a pinko! He says you can sit by the fire while I work. You’ll be warm Noblet! Toasty Warm!
Noblet: Fu[/b]ckin’ Ace!!!
[b]Nobby: Come on! No time to lose!
Noblet: Oh, sec. A bloke dropped by
Nobby: Who?
Noblet: Totem
Nobby: Totem!!
Noblet: Aight!
Nobby: What did he say?
Noblet: Something about Merry Christmas. Sounded like he meant it too.
Nobby: You sure? U been sniffing Daddy’s glue again?
Noblet: Well, yes, but he did seem to mean it
Nobby: Sounds like a crock of sh[/b]it to me
[b]Noblet: GFY
Act V Scene III
An internet gamers’ forum in Olde London Towne. The room is warm and bright. A small gathering of gamers stand bemused in the middle of the room. A small child sits snug and warm by the fire, singing a chirpy song about the disembowelment of baby kittens.
laviont: WTF?
Angsty Coder: Yeah! What’s going on?
Illia: Why are we all here?
Bhodisattva: I think it’s a theatrical device by the author to recognize as many players as possible without going to any serious effort on developing the plot.
Darkflame: Sounds about right
GitSlayer: But why’s it so warm here? And so bright?
Debalic: I assumed this was just an acid flash-back? You mean this is real?
Angry Hippo: Don’t question it dude. Just appreciate and take a toke on this!
DewVictim: But where’s Master Totem?
LtGoose: He lost this place at Poker. It belongs to Smasharoo
Reinman: No sh[/b]it? Where’s he then?
[b]Chtulhu: Yeah, and where’s Nobby.
A small door at the back of the workhouse opens and Nobby steps out, a glass of warm beer in his hand.
Nobby: Laydeeeez an Gennumen. Hic. [i](He sways and staggers a little) Thish ish an aushpish. . . Shignifik. . .Great Day. May I announshe our benefactorsh. Pray shilenshe for. . . .
Nobby breaks wind volubly and slumps to the floor, a stupid smirk creeping across his face.
Two large figures emerge through the doorway. They look at each other, then at Nobby, then at the crowd.
Totem: Ladies, Gentlemen, Katie, Saboruto. May we have your attention please!
Smasharoo: Nicely said Master Totem
Totem: Thank you Smash
They smile fondly at each other
Smasharoo: As you may know, I recently won a significant amount of money playing poker with this fine upstanding jiggaboo.
Totem: And I just made a significant profit selling a Communist.
Smasharoo: And following discussion with my colleague here, we have decided that Christmas is a time to put aside old differences.
They simper sweetly, their foreheads touching briefly
Totem: So Today is. . . . A Paid Holiday! No work!
Smasharoo: And if you care to step into the next room, you’ll find a small wrapped gift for each and every one of you.
Totem: Shall we spoil the surprise Smash?
Smasharoo: Why the hell not, my Nubian stallion buddy
Totem: Well my honky pinko friends. In each box you’ll find… A photo of tare’s Norks!
The crowd goes wild
Smasharoo: And one of varrussword’s internal organs for each of you!
Totem: Plus! A year’s subscription to the MMORPG of your choice!
Smasharoo: But First!
Totem: Let the feast commence!
Smasharoo: Nicely said my Negroid bum-chum
They take hold of a small hanging chord and pull it. A curtain behind them falls away to reveal tables bending under the weight of food and drink.
The crowd moves forward towards the table, but Smash holds up his hand.
Smasharoo:Wait!
Totem: WTF?
Smasharoo: Hear that?
A hush falls over the room. Gradually, the sound of a Helicopter grows louder.
Totem: That’s my chopper!
Nadenu’s eyes light up.
Totem: No bi[/b]tch! I mean, that’s my Helicopter! I’d recognize the sound anywhere!
Everyone rushes to the window just in time to see a Large Helicopter with barrels of High Explosives fastened to the runners, zooming toward the workhouse.
Just before impact, a small spotty face can be seen through the wind-shield
[b]Dracoid: Die, you capitalist running dogs! DIE!!!!!!!! DIEEEEE!!!!11oneone!!eleven1!!
Act V Scene IV
The cockpit of a Helicopter.
The air is charged with the smell of Blink 182 and misguided neo-Leninist socialism. A small Marxist sits at the controls, the knuckles of one hand are white on the collective, the other is hidden in a Kylie-stained pair of 501s.
The whites of his eyes reflect back at him from the windshield and he is muttering slowly to himself.
As he looks ahead, the gamers’ workhouse fills his field of vision. He looks down at the altimeter, seeing the digits plummet faster than an Asylumer’s Karma on a flame-raid into the ffxi forum.
An alert flashes across the HUD on his high-tech visor.
U.S. Copyright Office
101 Independence Ave. S.E.
Washington, D.C. 20559-6000
(202) 707-3000
Y0u h4ve r3c3ntly 1nfr1ng3d t3h c0pyr1ght l4ws by p05t1ng a p1ctur3 0f a b4b3l3t 0n t3h 45ylum!
Y0ur H3l1c0pt3r i5 n0w 1mp0und3d!
Pwn3d n00b!
A beam of light enfolds the chopper and stops it inches short of impact. It is drawn mysteriously into the sky like that crappy CGI effect In “Close Encounters”
Dracoid:Ahh well. ‘twas only a ruse to appear as cool as the other posters here. Actually I’m a rather debonair young buck with a sophisticated and eloquent persona that I cunningly hid behind this juvenile façade.
Dracoid and the chopper soar out of sight.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act V Scene V
The internet gamers’ forum in Olde London Towne.
Its denizens are huddled in fear.
At the sight of Dracoid’s timely capture, they breath a sigh of relief.
Totem and Smasharoo step forward, holding hands.
Totem: ‘kin’ Hell!
Smasharoo: Lawdy Lawdy! That was close!
Totem: But how was he discovered?
Kaolian strides from behind the two lovers. He stands stolidly, feet apart, thumbs tucked under his lapels
Kaolian: I put it to my learned colleagues that Dracoid was clearly in breach of several international laws relating to copyright, defamation, libel, slander, and personal hygiene
Al‘Katie: Objection!
tarv: Over-ruled!
Kaolian: As we speak, he is being sent to Guantanamo Bay, where the authorities of Camp X-Ray are preparing dog-leashes, rubber truncheons, car-batteries and Backstreet Boys CDs in readiness for his arrival. Muwahahahaha
Nobby: That’sh nishe! He alwaysh wanted to see Cuba!
Nobby collapses again.
Smasharoo: So, Totem my brother. How shall we complete this best of days?
Totem: Well, We have food, we have wine, ale and bleach. I believe it is time for the Asylum Christmas Paaaaartaayyyyy!
The gamers begin to eat, drink, dance and sing. Noblet crawls over to his drunken father, places an arm around his neck, smiles, and is about to speak when a breeze flows through the room. The candles are extinguished, the fires sputter out, and silence reigns.
A pair of large, blinking eyes appears over the room.
Allakhazam: Merry Christmas, and GFY
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ T3H 3ND ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Or is it. . . . ?
Edited, Fri Dec 17 17:15:27 2004 by Nobby
Awesome! This act had me laughing from begining to end. 
