Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Very Merry and Mirthful Christmas/Holilday Pageant


Curtain up! Light the lights!

SCENE: The scullery of Lotsofeuros Mansion. Felicia Looksgalore, the beautiful and well-endowed but poverty-stricken sister of the three ugly Lotsofeuros sisters, Meesa, Reesa and Penelope, is sitting at the fireplace stirring a boiling cauldron of...something.

Oh woe is me, woe is me! My once beautiful hands are a shadow of what they used to be. Look at them now, a bleeding and festering mess of pus and blood.

(Audience gasps and gags)


If only...if only there was a way that I could attend the annual Kosher Caterers Ball. I remember how much fun I used to have there. Lots of brisket (translation: cut of roast beef) and...and... Oh what's the use! How can I, Felicia Looksgalore, ever hope to look good enough to be one of the upper class twits once again! I am a shadow of what I used to be. I remember how much fun it was to be one of "them" and now I am a common scullery maid living beneath the stairs... Uh-oh - what do we have here?

(FELICIA bends over and picks up a sparkly lamp)

It looks like...a sparkly but tacky lamp. Perhaps it has magic qualities and I can make a wish on it... (she blows on it) Oooooo - gross! Dust! I shall clean this lamp with my apron. I wonder who owns this sparkling but tacky lamp.

(Suddenly there is a large bang and a puff of smoke. Once the smoke disappears, a figure emerges.

The figure becomes more clear. There stands the Sugarplum Queen. She sighs and brushes off her dress, straightens her tiara and coughs, daintily, of course.


When the audience sees that it is the queen, they gasp and then sigh at her extraordinary loveliness and ethereal delicateness...delicateism...delicate...okay, the queen looks divinely delicate and breathtakingly beautiful.

Cough, cough. Uh, where am I and who brought me here?

(The queen cups her hand above her eyes and peers around the stage and out into the audience)

Who rubbed that darn thing again? Oh, spit, it's you. Are you whining again about your hands? I told you the last time, use Palmolive but, nooooooo, you don't listen!

(The queen admires her own porcelain smooth hands)

If you're not going to do what I have suggested the last fourteen times you've summoned me, then I can't help you

FELICIA LOOKSGALORE're the Sugarplum Queen! I didn't summon you. I don't know why in the world you showed up. I don't need dermatological advice, I need help getting to the Kosher Caterers' Ball! Can you help me with that?

(with her hands on her hips)
Do I look like William Shatner? Priceline is four rubs-I'm six! Think before you rub, why doncha? Oh, damn, I chipped a nail.

But I didn't summon you! You've never helped anyone get anywhere except to the cosmetic counter! I need help getting to the ball. I have no idea why you showed up.

It's probably that darn Magic Lamp Union again. Either they can't get their act together or you still haven't learned to count. Eww... what is that you're boiling over there? You're not trying to cook again, are you?

(running back to the pot and stirs it again)
Oh, Lord! You've done made me let it burn!

First, you drag me here right in the middle of my manicure and then it's my fault that you can't cook or count? Give me a break! How about doing me a favor? Next time you wanna make a wish, rub the damn lava lamp! Stop rubbing that stupid unionized lamp! I have a very busy schedule and I can't be poofed off-(queen speaks in whiney, baby voice)- everytime some pathetic, whining scullery maid has visions of grandeur and hasn't been invited to 'the ball'-(making quotations gestures with her fingers). You wanna have visons of sugarplums, then let me know. But, I am booked up for the next month so vision something else for a while. Get a life....and put some lotion on those disgusting hands, for crying out loud.

Some fairy godmother you are! I don't know how you got the job!

Listen, dirt-knuckles, I am not your 'fairy' god-anything! We are not relately, thank God. I am the Sugarplum Queen! You rubbed the stupid lamp wrong. It's not my fault that you are inept at lamp rubbing. Apparently, you can't cook or rub competently. Take it up with your real fairy godmother...if you can get her away from the blackjack tables. Now, I'm outta here. Your funk is burning again.

(The Sugarplum Queen fades away,coughing, in a puff of glittery gold smok)

Oh great! Now, I have to sweep up her stupid gold residue!

(Felicia picks up the lamp again)

Dumped on again. Why me?

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