How The Grinch Stole Christmas
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Opera Maledetta Grande - Paquin
The Opera Maledetta Grande is nothing less than a masterpiece accomplishment in artistic design. Upon first entering the spacious
lobby, one receives a small taste of the grandeur that lies further in. The floor is tiled in verde antique marble with the main walkways
carpeted in a similar shade of deep green, edged in gold trim. Past the ticketing desk, benches upholstered with tapestried cloth line the
edges of the lobby with gilt framed portraits, of the most famous and talented performers that have graced the stage here, hanging on the
walls. There are several entrances into the main hall, three to the floor level seating before staircases at either end of the lobby lead up
to the mezzanine and then higher again to the balcony level.
Inside the hall, the main stage is of course the focal point but for those taking their seat early and during intermissions, the
elaborate and extensive fresco murals that adorn the walls, columns and shell ceiling are masterpieces that have alone brought many into the
opera house to witness firsthand. It goes without saying that the acoustics are unrivaled and even those that do claim to rival it are
unable to match the design in sheer grandiosity of appearance and atmosphere.
Sink <idle> Lee
Adrian <idle> Pix
Andrew Owen <idle> Cal <idle>
Baltimore VonDye <idle>
Anastasiya Trevor <idle>
Wayde Bear
Fruitcake <idle> Dale
Gregory <idle> Mouse <idle>
How the Grinch Stole Christmas (Look!)
We are going to be running this play in four acts. Players have their own pose order, audience can pose around. Players will be
paying attention to player pose order so as to keep the play moving. Each time the Narrator poses (Dale) a new act has begun. You all know
the story of the Grinch. If you do not, here are some handy links.
"You're a Mean One, Mr. Grinch" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MPBS7dVrE1U
"Welcome Christmas" http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5Qc-h05OosI
The Grinch Script: http://www.pedagonet.com/quickies/grinch.htm
We will not be posing word for word, we will be posing color. Our intention is to not bore you with rehasing the complete play.
Imagination is a fine thing. Enjoy.
Morgan walks into the Opera, looking around for a moment as he takes his hat off, letting it fall to his back for now. His left
shoulder and leg are bandaged and wrapped over his clothes, obviously he has had recent troubles with ducking. He walks over to the donation
jar and places some credits within. "Hope that helps someone." he says quietly and steps back towards the exit, leaning against the wall
quietly to watch what happens.
Trevor comes in reserving a spot for Dark Dragon crew members that aren't in the cast, in case they wish to come. He gives a
generous donation and smiles as he does so.
A man in a dusty coat and a fedora finishes an apple as he walks into the Opera house, he tips his hat to the ushers before he takes
it off. After throwing some change into the donation jar, Greg asks around for some directions and goes to his seat in the Tienlong crew
seating area.
Ingrid enters the main part of the Opera and blinks a few times in surpise as she takes the whole thing in. The man whose arm she
came in on has a similar dumb-founded expression on his face. "I thought you said we're supposed to be dressed all nice like?" The man in
dress pants, dress shirt, and a cowboy hat asks Ingrid. "Oh jus' shut yer mouth. We're in an Opera house so we better dress like it. Now
lets look fer where they are takin' donations." The cowgirl in a dress retorts before making her way over to where there are people taking
donations.
VonDye pauses outside the opera house to smoke the last of his cigar before grinding the stub under a boot. Dusting off the front of
his coat, he enters the lobby and sidles up to the donation jar. Glanceing around to make sure he's not being too clsoely watched, he takes
something from his pocket, and slips it into the jar quickly. At a hurried clip, he finds a seat in the very last row of the theater, in the
corner, and huddles there.
There is a good amount of children filing into seats and even more, climbing toward the stage. They can't all be in the play right?
Though some of them might go rushing it and the Grinch at the last minute to get a good look at the action. There are a few adults trying to
keep the kids under control, but there are never enough.
Trevor smiles briefly and tells Dale "Sir there may be people coming on behalf of the Dark Dragon, that should more than amply cover
their minimum donation..." he shrugs briefly "So they need not donate if they wish not to." he smiles briefly
The man (we'll call him James) in charge of the donation jar is quite happy to receive anything and writes things down as they come
through. "Thank you, thank you." says James eagerly getting everyone tickets and places to sit.
The proud figure of Quintus Aemilius Yee stepped into the opera house, proud in spite of the fact that his wound some three weeks
prior still required him the use of a cane. Waddling was not exactly a dignified form of locomotion yet nevertheless Quintus was the sort of
individual who could snatch every ounce of class from an inopportune situation. He stepped in through to the atreum of the opera hall and
though he saw James manning the till, his first destination was the cloak room. It was just what one did rather than be saddled with his
tweed coat for the duration of the performance. A matter so crass as -money- could be dealt with in its own time.
There is a Christmas tree in the opera house with several red and green packages beneath it, since many of the children are point
and talking amongst themselves, they may be expecting someone to hand those out at the end of the show. There is almost a hushed mischief
among the children in the seats.
Finished with her donation, Ingrid and her slickly-dressed cowboy friend turn to the nearest usher to be escorted to their seats.
"Man alive, look at dem kids runnin' around." The cowboy states to Ingrid as they walk. "Uh huh," replies the woman simply as they finally
arrive at their seats. "You know, seein' all these kids gets a man a'thinkin' 'bout...." The cowboy drops his sentence when he sees the
expression on Ingrid's face. "...alright I get it. Not now." The cowboy hushes up and the couple both flash smiles to those already seated
in the Tienlong crew section before sitting themselves.
Jackson moves in through the door with Pixie on his shoulders. Setting her down, he goes to take a seat in a quiet corner.
There's a little grousing and bitching from the pajama wearing Pixie as she's set down after a piggyback ride over from the Docks.
Some choice words are issued in a most un-Christmas like fashion, involving a pogo stick, the ass end of a possum, and someone's gonads. But
a little less pretty. She huddles into a seat and calms down a little after popping a pill or, um, three, shoving a cigarette in her mouth,
and scowling at her lopsided bunny slippers.
Quintus waited on line... yes, he -was- actually a human being after all and there were occasions when one had to engage in such
activities. Finally he arrived at the little window where the coat rack personnel were trading nice tweed coats (which he happened to be in
possession of which, though he quite suspected that other coats would have been equally acceptable) in turn for little yellow tickets.
Removing his wallet, a large single-folding affair that he kept in the breast pocket of the dark suit he was now wearing, he placed the
ticket into the leather folds and proceeded to where James was accepting donations. Pulling out a nice crisp note of unspecified
denomination, he presented it to the employee with a smile and a few exchanged pleasantries of 'Merry Christmas' and indications of mutual
appreciation. He then proceeded into the main gallery where he meant to find his seat.
Janessa shoves her way inside, her hands in her pockets still and leans against a back wall.
Morgan nods to Janessa as she takes up a spot nearby him. "Evenin." he grins, "Like to stay near the exits too huh? Pretty packed in
here tonight, I wasn't sure how many people would show up. Looks like a good turn out."
There is some mood music starting to play as people come in and prepare to take seats. The many children sitting together start
nudging each other and talking! "I saw him!" One little girl calls out pointing toward the curtain. "It's Green. It's the GRINCH!!" In a
dreamy voice, she adds, "Do you think he'll adopt me?!" It's a tough 'verse when kids are hoping to get adopted by 'the Grinch'.
Gregory gives a tip of the hat to other crew members as they join in, and offers a half peeled orange that he snuck in.
The theatre is packed! There are colorful kids of all ages, excited with anticipation and Christmas candy! Parents all wanting to
see their kids on stage too.
**ACT I. ON THE STAGE**
This play hasn't been seen on stage in Paquin for a very long while and for the first time in many years, the Lambsey voice will
ring out again in the Opera House. Mrs Cera Lambsey was quite a frequent star in the past before she passed away tragically and Dale swore
he'd never set foot on stage again in a play, but here he is nonetheless, proof that no one can say no to Ivy for long. He looks out over
the audience, unafraid, in control. The band is ready with their instruments and music sheets. "Thank you, Ladies and Gentleman, children of
all ages. Welcome! Please take your seats" Dale calls out over the theatre. Once clamoring settles down, music softly begins and Dale's
voice as narrator signals the start of Act I. "Every Who down in Whoville likes Christmas a lot, but the Grinch who lived Just north of
Whoville ... Did NOT!" The narrator's voice rings out over the crowd in a sharp steady sing-song baritone. He makes each word count, rolling
over the syllables as any theatre actor would. In his element, he is this but attention is not on him as the lights fade and all you can
hear is the sound of his voice. "The Grinch hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the
reason...." The words continue in a sweet soft melody as the first act of the play begins and the Narrator elaborates on the Whos and the
Grinch. Colorful Lights start to focus on the figures on stage and the musicians do their thing and music fills the air.
**DESC - Dale the Narrator**
This lean Caucasian male has wide shoulders and a sturdy, tight frame. There's no part of him left to careless maintenance. He
stands at 5ft11 with thick shoulder length hair that ranges from a warm golden brown to black depending on the dye used. Every so often, the
red roots show. His face is distinctly cut with full lips, piercing blue eyes and a strong nose. He is clean shaven today, skin smooth as a
baby's. Overall, he is a portrait of casual confidence, secure in his identity. He appears to be twenty-something.
He is wearing a pair of tight dark blue pants of a soft material and long knee length black leather boots with buckles at the
ankles. A slightly ruffled cream colored shirt is pulled over his torso and he wears a fancy black vest with tarnished silver buttons over
it.
Cal is making her way into the opera house, glancing slowly around as she does so, nodding to the handful of people that she
recognizes in passing. For one who usually goes about in combat boots and armed to the gills, she's rather unusually garbed for the time
being. Draped around her shoulders is a black velvet wrap that is tossed casually over one shoulder and the tassled ends left to brush
nearly to her hips. She pauses in the main lobby, a faint smile forming on her face, her eyes shadowed with memories of this opera house and
years long passed. The sound of the play beginning inspires her to glance around again, searching for someone in particular in the crowd.
Trevor takes his seat and watches with interest probably having seen a broadcast of this many times. He looks on with interest
Likely having attended a few operas back on Londinium as time would allow and such.
'The grinch?' Gosh darn it! Were those darned kids pestering him again? But as Quintus looked to the source of the children's
voices, he realised that they were not, in fact, referring to himself. 'Thank goodness!' The Persephone District Attorney had made a
statement about that whole business of banning Christmas but even though the rumour had been denied and disproved, as this event went very
well to showing, it did not stop him, and anybody affiliated with the Alliance even through his small connection by way of his corporate
responsibilities, from being accused as just one more purple-bellied grinch who meant to take toys from the tots. Aha! Row K, seat 23. Center
orchestra. Perfect. Quintus slipped through the row to his appointed seat, apologising to the individuals already seated as they made way to
let him pass.
Lethaniel heads into the room and see's the stage, quickly moving to take a seat.
Weaving his way gingerly through the throngs in the lobby, Andrew enters, having been talked into attending this event by - well, no
one, actually; he would have probably come whether his shipmates had attended or not. As he makes his way through the crowd, his head
swivels about, glancing at each individual nearby for a second or two. He appears to be looking for someone. Andy seems to find who he's
searching for after a few moments. Rather than wandering aimlessly through the crowd he starts to head towards a specific destination, or at
least a specific person. "Hey, Cal," he says upon reaching her, beaming. "Wow, you look absolutely fantastic! And here you tried to convince
me you didn't look good in a dress."
Janessa nods at Morgans comment and answers him very quietly "Hate crowds, really hate crowds." she says and then watches the stage,
her hair falling over the front of her shoulders as she turns her head.
Cal turns slightly, spotting Andrew as he makes his way through the lobby towards her and gives Andrew a smile in answer to his
compliment, "Why, thank you," she says simply and returns the compliment in kind with, "as do you. I should shrug and say 'this old thing',"
she admits and glances down briefly at the dress she's wearing and looks back up with an unrepentant smile, "but the truth is, I figure if
I'm going to dress up, I might as well make it worth the effort." She arches her eyebrows slightly, that amused smile lingering on her lips,
"Shall we find a place to sit?"
Quintus browsed through the program as he waited for the lights to darken and the curtain raise. He scanned the pages for any
familiar names but... oh, no, just as he had given up hope there a bright name came to the for. How lovely that Dr. Lambsey would take the
time out of her schedule, a schedule that he knew for a fact to be quite busy as he himself had been subject to that business some weeks
ago. Could the doctor surprise him any further? He sincerely hoped so, though intellect told him that with each new bit of information
revealed about the lady only pressed the boundaries of his expectations higher and higher. Fruitcake, hrmmm? He made a mental note to keep
an eye out for her.
Settled into their seats, Ingrid and her equally fancily dressed husband gaze down at the stage proper. Her husband nudges her arm
and quietly asks, "Did ya bring it?" Ingrid nods her head before opening her clutch to reveal a small flask. Her cowboy of a husband peers
down at it and frowns. The woman catches his glare and states back in a low voice, "Didn't 'ave enough room fer the eight ounce. We're jus'
goin' to have to make it work." Her husband nods solemnly before looking over at Greg. "No thanks feller, but we got some other treat if you
want a swig."
**ON STAGE**
All throughout Whoville, the Whos are busying getting into the Christmas spirit as every Who has his part to complete to make this
occasion special. Garland made of popcorn, acorns, peppercorns and every kind of corn imaginable are strung along the rooftops, window
sills, hand-railings, light posts and every tree. Strings of lights of every shape, size and color criss-cross with the garland and make the
entire town shine like a brilliant diamond in this small mountain valley. Whos fixing....Whos mixing...Whos singing...Whos bringing out
decorations of all colors and assortments. Some red, some green, some dull and some with a bright sheen. Balls, bells, shells, strings,
rings and all sorts of things are being placed upon every surface to make this moment most festive. The wonderful smells of food wafts
throughout the entire village of every possible thing imagined being made and displayed out among the long tables. Puddings, pies, loaves of
rye, cupcakes, pancakes, crabcakes, salmon cakes, frosting of every color and taste, all fruit big and small, tarts as wide as one is tall,
everything one needs to become plump and happy from over-endulgence.
The Mayor of Whoville (Wayde) is busying helping orchestrate all of the Whos, doling out tasks and assignments to all that have
none. Towering over the Whos, the Mayor is able to see things and reach places the other Whos can't. Small Who children are dancing, singing
and playing in the snow, trying to help where they can until it is time to decorate the tree. Everyone in the village finishes up what they
are doing and begin to gather up all sorts of ornaments, various strings of lights and unique gifts placed on every bow and branch upon this
massive pine tree that has stood stoically in the middle of their village, a pinnacle of hope and joy to the entire town as it has been
tradition as far back as Who history has been written. Stars, cars, paper areoplanes, candles, sparkles, candies, ribbons, bows, sno-globes,
sno-balls, sno-men and everything in between cover this mighty pine tree, even the Mayor helps by picking up the small children and holding
them up to decorate the higher parts then gives them a small peck on the cheek before setting them back down. When it is all said and done,
every Who in the town stand back in awe and wonder, smiles begin to grow all around on every Who face.
After all the decorations are finished and everything seems to be done, all the Whos gather round the mighty pine and take each
other's hands to form a massive circle. All of the Whos, men, women and children begin to skip and prance around while laughing and humming,
all are having a wonderful time and the feeling of love and happiness is felt for miles and miles around. Even the Mayor is in on all of
this merry-making as they all let go of one another and begin to further prance about and continue with making this Christmas the best it
has ever been.
**DESC - The Mayor**
You see a determined-looking man, standing roughly 6'3" and weighing close to 225 lbs. His build is very refined and muscular of
that of a professional athlete, veins bulging all over his stoic physique. A pale alabaster color covers his skin, adding a bit more to his
Irish heritage. His squarish head is shaved bald, his steel blue eyes set deep into his visage, tapered by high cheek bones and coutours by
a very strong jawline as the tip of his chin narrows slightly into a wide base. A thin nose with a slight bump on the bridge comes to a
ball-like tip, a deep scar runs vertically down over his left eye, some scar tissue causing his eye to look a bit smaller.
Dressed in a bright lime green, double-breasted jacket with screaming yellow buttons. The shoulders are widen on the closed jacket
as a lime green-and-yellow ascot is wrapped around his neck. Lime green 'stubbies' slipped over green-and-yellow horiziontally-striped
tights cover the lower half of his herculean frame and a pair of elfish lime green shoes cover his feet with little bells on the curled
tips. Placed lightly on his head and tilted to the side is a comical lime green tophat with yellow band.
**ON STAGE**
As bright as the star on the very tip top of the Christmas Tree is the little who girl named Cindy Lou Who. Prancing around without
a care in the 'verse, as the Christmas decorations are set into place. An ornament here, a stocking there and all the preparations being in
place as always cheerful is she that Christmas is on its way. Cindy Lou Who prances over towards the circle that is formed around the tree.
Her hands reaching out to grasp other Who's around her. The smile so big and bright as the song pours past her lips, joining within the
chorus as Christmas cheer continues to bubble.
**DESC - Cindy Lou Who**
No other than a little girl Who named Cindy Lou Who. Youthful features evident, she appears young in age. Smooth and luxurious ivy
flesh covers he lean physique, with not a flaw evident on it. From the crown of her head, long blonde hair as been done in an most unusual
manner. Two parts drawn to the side, while upon the top of her head it bowls out then stands straight up with the slightest of a dip. A big
pink bow fastened in her hair, with a small silver bell that chimes here and there. Large, crystal blue eyes dominate her face beneath the
wealth of lashes, emphasized by slightly curved eyebrows. Supple thin lips curve softly possessing a faint pale pink colour.
It must be Christmas! Cindy Lou Who is dressed to deliver some fascinating candy for the adults! but the outfit is innocent for
those young enough to see it as a schoolgirl outfit. Her hot pink mini skirt is paired with a white tie top leaving that leaves a generous
amount of toned abdominal muscles on display. The skirt is just long enough to cover the frilly peek-a-boo panties decorated with multiple
Christmas bows. Who hair defies gravity and is that a bit of mistletoe hiding in one of her braid? White socks come up to her knees in a
school girl fashion.
**ON STAGE**
Children, and children and children abound, they dance and the prance on the stage all around...and then the Fruitcake comes rushing
and pushing them on. Can't have too many kids on the stage all at once, that's when things like the short one with the lips yells: "Hey
thas's my mom?!?" A little girl of about three dressed up like a Who stops and sits on the stage just waving and smiling and preening under
the lights. This causes the doctor dressed up as a Fruitcake to scoop her up quickly and drag her off the stage. A smile and the wave are
directed to the proud beaming mom (not every child is an orphan).
**DESC - Fruitcake**
Small and sassy, she barely clears five feet. Confidence suggests that she does not fret over height or any perceived lack of it.
Her frame emphasizes soft curves over hard lines and angles; they may require work to keep under control. Somewhere in her mid to late
twenties, exuberance and enthusiasm are tempered by maturity. A thick mane of rust and golden curls falls past her back and frames her
rounded face. A stubborn chin combines with a frequent willful expression and her glossed lips quickly turn to a good natured smile. Wide
blue eyes reflect sudden changes of temperament.
It could be an outfit of some type, it's certainly not something you see on the street. Her dress is colorful, the skirt is layer
cake that ends before her knees. She wears a patch colored lab coat on top of that, with multiple colors sewn onto to a dirty brown. Her
hair is wild braids that defy gravity going all over her head and each end has a bit of fruit hanging, a cherry, a slice of orange, a lime.
Her face is colorful as well with dark read over her cheeks and a ruby color to her lips. Who knows what she's going for but it's certainly
in the spirit of christmas fun. She wears flexible slippers on her feet and her tights are also brightly stripped with colors over a muted
brown.
Cal nods to Andrew, speaking now in a murmur, "Lead on then, good sir," and reaches out to rest one hand lightly on the arm nearest
her.
Zachary enters the Theatre with another wave of the gathering throng. Alaren walks beside him with her arm loosely linked through
his arm. They find their seats and settle quickly into place. She nods to the stage and then leans to whisper something to him.
Andrew Owen grins. "The effort was more than worth it," he replies. "And I didn't even know I had this stuff, to be honest. Almost wore just
my normal clothes. Dug around for it at the last minute." And ironed it, in such a hurry that he had almost set the laundromat counter on
fire. With a nod, he says, "Sounds like a plan. Think it's starting. They've got a seating section set aside for the Dragon if I recall
correctly. Might end up being the /only/ free seats for us with the way this place is filling up."
Alaren takes a snug seat next to Zachary and glances around at all those in attendance. She focuses upon the huge tree and singing
circle of players and gives Zach a brief smile.
As the stage erupted in the brilliant colour of the set design, Quintus couldn't help but emit a cheerful gasp, himself entering
into the group euphoria as the audience's anticipation was not finally coming to be sated. The prancing Whos were all adorable and the
refined gentleman admired from his position as an observer the life and energy the players were putting into their performance. It may not
have been quite so schooled as a professional performance but that was made up for by the very genuine feelings of live that were beign
expressed now for his entertainment. He watch as Cindy Lou came to the fore. And now it begins, Quintus thought to himself as he leaned
forward to lean, allowing himself to succumb to enthrallment by the production.
Andrew Owen threads his way through the crowd, Cal in tow, to a pair of availible seats near the other Dragon crewmembers who have
elected to attend. In the dim lighting it's hard for him to tell exactly who or how many of his shipmates or there, besides at least one
he's already seen on-stage.
**ON STAGE**
From his mountain perch (which was most likely once a stage balcony), the Grinch scowls down on Whoville. "Look at them folks down
there," he gripes to Max. "What with the hammering of gym socks to chimneys, squealing and squawking all the mean time. Makes a fella want
to pound nails into his brain, or pound a few of em through who lips so as they shut their yaps. Blathering lot of nonsense normal, but the
christmasing of things worses it up tenfold." The Grinch watches Whoville in their giddy celebration, then looks to Max. He pulls a light
bulb out from somewhere and holds it above his head, which sparks dangerously then comes to life. "That's it!" The bulb goes dark and he
stuffs it back into his costume pocket. "Take Christmas from the lot of them, and see how much tap dancing and high fiving they get up to.
Turn them Whos into a bunch of boo-hoos." In any other play, the stage direction for the laugh he gives would involve twirling a mustache
and tying a virgin to a set of train tracks. In a musical theater flourish jazz hands and about-facing, he flails off stage.
**ON STAGE**
Max the Dog is a dutiful three feet lower in height than his abusive Grinchly Master, sitting on his haunches just a pace back from
where the green grouch stands. His shaggy head had been poised to watch those cute blithering Whos from afar, a tolerant smile on his lips,
but when The Grinch begins to growl, Max loses that serene expression and looks attentively upon his Boss, ears folding back softly. And..
it's about gorram time these two fellows came out and showed their true colours in such a literal and visual fashion. The Casting Director
is a friggin' genius. But wait a moment. That's not quiet, desperate, starry worship in Max's big blue eyes. That's a species of weary
disillusionment. Talk about bad timing. At least it doesn't come out in his silent pantomime, as Max glances between the Who Yuletide
Prep-work and his Master's Evil Eureka Moment.... and visibly quails, his body undergoing a chilly, nervous shiver and his head drooping
down as he turns to follow The Grinch off-stage on all fours. A translucent thread tugs and pulls his wire-frame tail between his legs as he
goes. Props to the wiley Costume Department!
And... that was Act One.
**DESC - MAX the Dog**
Here we have a young male specimen of Caucasian stock, tall, trim, and oh so pretty in his tight FURRY DOG COSTUME. A long tapered
face sets the stage for starry blue eyes and smudgy lashes under winging dark brows, a finely sculpted nose and strong chin, and between
these a full, soft-lipped line of mouth. Good genes. Framing this picture of blooming adulthood is shining golden brown hair in a
side-parted sweep across his forehead, the thick lengths flicking over his ears and licking outwards in soft ornamentation. Damn good genes.
A notable flaw though, if you will: A mild case of Strabismus in the left eye contributes to a somewhat spacey expression when Lee is not
focusing. Also, he appears to have grown a set of FLOPPY DOG EARS, and his nose is shoe-polished BLACK. Those are flaws, right?
A glossy brown body suit of synthetic fur is the current outfit, a comfortably close fit overall, verging on snug at key locations.
The silky filaments just about match his real hair colour, and are long enough to drift with his movements, creating unruly tufts whenever
he brushes against something. From his tailbone sprouts an underwire protrusion, covered with longer hair and waving with a life of its own.
Underneath, his lean figure is not particularly focused towards athleticism, the well-shaped proportions arising from a last growth spurt on
an active young body that stands an inch from six feet in his spacer keds. A long neck slopes gently to broad shoulders and tanned, toned
arms, tapering to lithe wrists and large, expressive PAWS. Gah. His trunk is long, with a lower center of gravity which contributes to his
signature ambling gait, legs defined with musculature from all his constant roaming about.
There is a touch of pride or vanity obvious in the boy's bearing, something in the way his chin lifts, and the expressive line of
his shoulders. It's pretty obvious that he isn't carrying weaponry. Although. . . he has been known to give a vicious BITE when cornered.
With the play going at full swing, Von huddles low in his chair and removes something from his coat. A glint of metal is all that
can be seen of the object, which he lifts to his mouth and chugs from for several moments. The person who'd managed to get stuck sitting
next to him in the corner has the pleasure of him leaning in close and nudging them several times. "Gorram, this is right borin', ain't it?
That green thing ain't even killed none of them happy critters yet." His voice starts at polite whispering and rises to drunken loudness as
he jabs a thumb at the stage. "When's all the 'splosions and bloodshed gonna happen?"
Cal laughs quietly, yet again, and says to Andrew, "It's the same story, I know. But I find it delightful, every year," she admits.
The appearance of Cindy Lou Who causes a big grin to appear on the face of Ingrid's husband. "I'm suddenly glad that you brought me
'ere." He states to Ingrid. Ingrid herself shoots him a nasty look before being the first one to sip from their flask which is concealed by
her clutch. Von's reaction elicits a good laugh out of Ingrid and now it her husband's turn to take a swig in his reaction to the outburst.
Gregory raised a brow when he saw Cindy, but doesn't otherwise react to the performance. In fact, that Greg finished his orange
seems to have elicit more of an reaction than the performance itself. "Great, no food," Greg mumbles as he looks around to see whether there
is a refreshments table anywhere.
Gosh darned it. Why did the woman sitting next to him just -have- to lose a contact? Quintus bemoaned his fate silently while
presenting the female with a pleasant smile and helping her look under their seats. At least they both had the good fortune of the
inoppertune event occuring between acts. He wondered why people just didn't wear glasses or have surgery rather than deal with these little
tiny lenses that had such a devilishly good ability to become inconspucuous when you -most- desired to find them.
Trevor watches and looks over as Andrew and Cal sit near by and nods briefly and smiles "even better in person I think." he'd
chuckled and the like through out especially with the children's performance mostly. He watches the grinch and max with interest. Good thing
this is only a play and all, else he might take some pre-emptive justice on max and the grinch.
Cindy's rather...interesting outfit gets a brief look from Andy (he /is/ male, after all), but it doesn't linger for long. He
smiles, and whispers to Cal, "Believe it or not, I haven't seen this performed since I was in elementary school. I should probably go see it
more often."
**ACT II. ON THE STAGE**
The music calms down and the lights focus again The narrator then turn to focus on the Grinch. (Dale's voice) is heard while the
Grinch plots and drums his fingers, hating the Whos! His voice becomes a little darker and ominous as he intones: "He hated and cursed and
stomped and kicked. But no matter what he did, Christmas would come and Quick! .... But then he thought of a wonderful idea! A truly
wonderful awful idea. He laughed in his throat...and he made a quick Santy Claus hat and a coat. What a great trick! With this he'll look
just like St Nick! All he needs is a reindeer...The Grinch looked around....But, since reindeer are scarce, there was none to be found! But
did that stop him? No! The grinch simply said: Since there's none to be found, I'll make one instead!"
**ON STAGE**
Grinch paces in his cave, rubbing his chin like and clearly in deep, deep ponder. The he ah-ha's, the idea so good he has to
gesticulate in the air while yelping 'Ah-ha!" He turns to Max. "Got a knowing as to what'll desong them Whos' yap traps, turn their
holidazzle into holifizzle. Going to loot them Who houses of all them things bringing holiday cheer: snatch up the blinking light and
glittering tree bulbs and everything they is going to gift each other." Fevered now, he hurries back to a steamer trunk at the back of the
stage. The lid is flipped opened, and he starts to rummaging. "And in the doing of it, go and dress myself like mister Claus himself." He
comes up with a grinch sized red coat, and red tasseled cap, and puts them on. "Show them Santa don't just wolf down milk and cookies, Santa
comes and steals your light bulbs. Pries the fillings from your teeth and calls the heating company to shut off power. Them Whos wake up, be
too cold and dark for them to even cry." All Santa'd up, the Grinch looks at himself. "Still ain't right, something done missing from this."
Slowly, he turns, scanning the room intil his eyes land on Max. The stare lasts for a creep-inducing minute before he turns back to the
trunk. More rummaging, old underwear and slinky evening gowns go flying until he finally finds it. He comes up with a full set of moose
antlers and a roll of duct tape. "Oh Max . . ." he sing-songs, turning with the oversized rack. "Come here Max . . ."
**ON STAGE**
The cluttered Bachelor Cave Set is laid out for maximum gloom effect, but there's a couple of spot-lit sections to showcase the
antics of the characters. The Grinch takes the principle spot of course, and Max the Loyal (chump) Dog sprawls in the one a little farther
back, his big poofy front paws held together with his chin laid dolefully over top them. His back legs are half-tucked underneath and half
splayed out to the side, tail flopped limply on the floor behind him. Poor pup looks like he's been sunk down there for HOURS, just watching
and listening while the Grinch has been pacing and ranting and raving and building up a huge head of steam. Behold the illusion of time
passage. While his Master postures and monologues, an imposing physical presence, Max keeps mostly still except for the occasional
exaggerated sigh-heave, the sympathetic counterpoint to the bombastic badassery. Only when The Grinch gives him that awful, thoughtful
stare, does Max jerk into alertness, head up and tilted to sense the incoming doom. His body lurches into a crouch, and he begins to slink
away while the Master dives back into the props dumpster. Go, Max, go! The hapless dog is /this/ gorram /close/ to escaping the edge of the
spotlight, when the slinky evening gown - and are you wondering what I'm wondering about that? - conveniently sails across and settles over
his head. Oh, Bravo Balt-err Grinch. Max shakes it off just in time to recoil in abject terror away from the sight of the Massive Moose
Antlers and Evil Duct Tape. Oh. No. Wai.
Fade to black! Fade to black!
Cal grins at Trevor and nods, "I agree. Whole heartedly, in fact," she says before turning slightly and tilts her head towards
Andrew to say, "I must admit, I usually find a way to attend a live performance. Or at least watch a recording."
Trevor smiles and nods to Cal "As do I." he smiles to Cal "Hope you'll come to our celebration in a few days, my family's even
getting to come this year..." he smiles briefly.
Quintus sighed with glee. The woman's husband, or boyfriend, or Companion for all he knew, found the contact and thankfully it was
just before lights dimmed that he players might be more effectively illuminated. The mood of the room changed subtly with that of the stage
as Quintus felt the rythmic energies of apprehension filter through his bones. Nobody was afraid, save for a few of the children who did not
know this story, yet everybody around him was so engaged in the entertainment that they -willed- themselves to wonder that if, by some
fluke, on this day the Grinch would finally succeed in his plot. They denied themselves the fore-knowlege of the Whos' resolve,
determination, and above all: faith. Faith in the natural goodness of one another, in the solidarity of community: that as one came from
many even the most wretched circumstances could be overcome. Quintus waited with abated excitement to see the outcome, to witness the joy
and empathically experience the merriment as generosity triumphed over greed once more in the imaginings of the children, young and old
alike, who clung to every word, who latched on to every movement of the players.
Greg smiles at Ingrid's offer of whisky. "I try not to drink on an empty stomach, but if this play keeps going like this, I'll
probably need some." Wait, Cindy isn't enough of a distraction for Greg? Is there something wrong with this man?!
"Yeah, would be pretty cool if you could drop in," Andrew says to Cal, still speaking softly in deference to the rest of the
audience. "Might even be another opportunity to dress up," he adds with a wink. Looking over at Trev, he adds, "Cool. Can't say I've ever
met your parents. I'll look forward to meeting them."
Packard slips in in his dress uniform, conspicuously late. He looks for empty seats and familiar faces but as he's at the back he
just sees the back of people's heads. He heads for an empty seat near the back so as not to be too much of a distraction.
"There's a celebration being held?" Cal asks of Trevors, her head tilting slightly even as she leans forward long enough to slip the
wrap off of her shoulders and let it drape over her chair. "Hmm. Is there a start time for it, your parents hmm?" she inquires with a
curious sound before giving Andrew a smile and a nod. "If you're sure it's okay.. I'll attend."
Alaren leans over and asks Zach, "So... its not Dickens, but it's pretty good, don't you think?"
**ACT III. ON THE STAGE**
The music is truly inspiring evil and the narrator, well, Dale gets right into it. (For full text of words see the link on object in
this room. I will not be posing it). This song plays while the Grinch starts to get ready to carry out his evil plan. "You're a mean one Mr
Grinch...You really are a heel..." The barritone is rather good at that. He makes the little children in the front of the audience afraid!
Someone cries and hugs their mum! Scary! That must have been reaction to the Grinch though. Must be due to the way the Grinch is trussing up
poor Max in makeshift antlers, getting his sacks and chortling, off to rob the whos. Poor Max, always getting the short straw. And the song
ends with a hearty rendition of... "....Youre a 3 Decker sour kraut and toad stool sandwich With arsenic sauce!" Enough time passes during
he song for a new set to get up and the lights to focus on it.
**ON STAGE**
The Grinch has got his Santa gear on this time around (which still, somehow, lacks a set of pants) as he creeps from the Lou chimney
into the Lou house. Apparently the Grinch has always imagined Mister clause as some variety of cartoon cat burglar complete with stripey
shirt and black mask by the way he's tip-toeing and thefting things into his knapsack. The stockings hung from the mantle are the first to
go, then the presents from under the tree, then starts to disassemble the artificial tree itself and stuff it into his sack. If he had a
vacuum to suck sugar plum fairies out of kids dreams, he'd use that too. It's a blue light special on happiness, folks, and EVERYTHING MUST
GO!
**ON STAGE**
Max is here too, somehow, despite the twelve-point rack of antlers weighing down his head. Granted, the set on his head is half the
size of the one The Grinch had been holding in the previous Act. But those things must have come in through the front door at some point.
Ditto for the ten-foot tall overflowing burlap sack in the corner that poor Max is currently trying to keep from falling over. He still
doesn't make any overt movements, rather maintaining a strong tableau to suggest that time has passed yet again, and the Lou Household is
one of their last stops in the Evil Grinch Tour of WhoVille. The gigantic sack bristles with shiny things, mostly wrapped boxes, but perched
sumptuously on top of it all is a huge brown roast on a platter, complete with garnishings! Gorram. They stole the /food/ too. That's cold.
**ON STAGE**
Down the stairs as quiet as a mouse, the small foot steps of the littlest Who of this Who Family, no other than Cindy Lou Who. A
late night glass of water is what she seeks, for Santa Clause is on his way this eve. The ruffles of night gown fluttering around her ankles
as each slipper step makes naught a sound. The nightgown a faint pink colour, lined with frilly white ruffles along its edges. When Cindy
Lou who reaches the ground floor, no other than Santa Clause does she spy. The eyes a light with cheer and glee, the small lips turned into
a smile. A petite hand lifts upwards, covering her mouth as she stares within amazement for a few seconds, until the hand is lowering back
down beside her. Then within a blink of an eye, it is confusion that sets down as that meek little voice of a girl sweet as candy canes
rises, "Mr. Santa Clause.", she begins as a step forward is taken. "What are you doing with our Christmas tree, the Christmas ornaments and
all the Christmas decorations?"
**ON STAGE**
Ah, the joys of holiday themed robbery, and the ability to cram everything into one novelty sized stealin' sack. He's made a list of
things to steal and he's checked it twice. These folks don't even get coal, just a feng shui revamping of their house to make it look 'more
open.' With the house now bare the Grinch would leave straight out of it were for some weird looking Who kid rubbernecking him. "Uhh," he
starts, somehow not strangling this Who-ette to keep his identity safe. "Turns out your folks ain't got enough love for you to throw you a
proper Christmas, so old Chris Cringle is recalling most everything you own so as to fix it up proper for you." This /sounds/ like a lie,
just drips with the tone of being made up on the spot. Apparently they didn't have courses in proper fibbing at Grunch-U. It's the thought
that counts here though, and maybe he'll be able to deceive a small child, like a proper xmas miracle.
'If only he'd had a vacuum to suck the sugar plumb fairies out of the Who children's dreams,' Quintus thought to himself as he
watched the Grinch execute his dastardly plan, 'it would really complete this scene.' But as he pondered the matter the gentleman realised
that such imagery would probably have been exorbitantly difficult to present on stage and he did not let this thought detract from his
enjoyment of the play. He watched the despondency of poor Max, whose crime was less so much one of heart but of circumstance and downtrodden
fear. He watched as Cindy Lou Who appeared once more on the stage, full of bewilderment, her emotions tangled by her intellectual
understanding that -something- was evidently very wrong here with simultaneous encouragement her faith in the symbol of the jolly man in the
red suit with which she was empowered.
"Deception and intrigue at its finest," Von comments aloud about the duping of Cindy Lou. "Finally, somethin' interestin'." He leans
forward in his chair. Further and further forward, until he nearly falls out of it, catching himself on the seat in front of him, or rather,
the person sitting in front of him. His hands clamp around the woman whose sitting there's head for leverage, and she yelps, turns, and
manages to get in a few good slaps before Von falls back into his own seat. Ducking his head, he mutters some off-color comments under his
breath until she refrains from using him as a whipping post, then grins like a fool at the back of her chair.
**ON STAGE**
Max's antlers begin to sink forward on his head while the dialogue goes on between Grinch and Cindy Lou. This was probably not
supposed to happen, but there really isn't enough duct tape in the 'Verse to keep that rack on the poor fellow's head. Thus, Max only
manages one horrified look at the deception taking place under the principle spotlights, before his head is dragged completely downwards by
the antlers, resting quiveringly on his chest until the gorram lights go down and the stage hands can rush out and rescue him. Polite
laughter only, please.
**ON STAGE**
While onto an adult's ear, the lie can be heard, it is a heart of gold that is big as the roast beast that was in the fridge that
believes it. Cindy Lou Who's head tilts to the side as her smile grows kind and warm. The slipper feet come prancing forward to close in the
distance between herself and Grinch Clause. A rise of her feet as onto the tippy toes does she go, leant over does her small body become. A
tilt of her head, a warm innocent kiss gifted onto the Grinch's green clammy lips. They're not filled with warmth and tastes like sugar
cookies as the stories of Santa Clause that was told to her so many times. They're not pink, but green but it matters not! Such a small
token of gratitude, but one met so quickly and then she's walking slowly back to the stairs, "Merry Christmas, Santa Clause."
**ON STAGE**
The Grinch may not be much of a liar, but the kid seems to buy it. He's pleased with himself, so pleased, in fact, he's too busy
mugging for the audience and to even see Cindy Lou's kiss coming. His jaw drops. There's this strange meta-aware moment that an adult woman,
playing a child, just planted one on his kisser. It's hard to tell if the shock it the characters or the actors here. Or maybe this is
method acting. "Ought to watch yourself, smooching strangers what break into your house. That's just . . .unsettling." He recollects
himself, then, in a scamper he's into the chimney and gone again.
Check out how fast them curtains close.
"Now, I'm startin' to wish I had brought the bigger flask too." Ingrid states to her husband. He nods his head yes vividly at this
sentiment before sneaking other sip of their shared flask. "Well, we're both dressed head to toe in our best clothes, so why don't we go out
an' celebrate instead of jus' stayin' 'ere?" He says to his Ingrid. The cowgirl considers this briefly before nodding her head yes and
moving to leave. She leaves the flask in their seat and turns to Greg. "If you decide to change yer mind, feller." Ingrid says to Greg with
a grin. With that, Ingrid's cowboy hat wearing husband leads the two of them off and out of the Opera.
Packard shifts in his chair. His face screwed up in a mixture of enjoyment at the deftly executed play and the horrific portrayal of
deceiving a young child. One might think he was emotionally close to a child that has recently befallen a major betrayal ... by life
perhaps. He relaxes as the curtains close.
At that moment, it wasn't Max's 'rack' but anothers that was interesting Quintus, but that was a matter for a less public venue.
Ummm... erm... ahem, that is to say that the gentleman found the performance of the actress portraying Cindy Lou Who very convincing. The
sincerity of her trust in the mean old wolf wearing the vibrant red sheep's clothing was delivered with such aplomb. The way that she so
sweetly bid her farewell to the individual who meant only harm to her was so wrentching that Quintus felt his chest tighten by the drama of
it all.
Trevor feels a bit sorry for Max at the moment at least... He still probably would take a few shots at the grinch if it wasn't a
play and all. He smiles as he watches however. He looks to Cal and Andrew "yeah it's our usual Christmas party." He tells Cal "All the
Passage crew and org might as well come as well, as often as we work together and the like." he smiles briefly "The more the merrier." he
shrugs as he turns his attention back to the stage.
VonDye points and laughs and laughs some more at Max the dog's antler predicament. Sympathy for the poor actors, he doesn't seem to
have. Or it's just plain too gorram funny-looking not to laugh at, and that only makes him laugh harder. It's a good thing he's way in the
back, otherwise he was sure he'd be facing some audience or actor retaliation at his disruption.
Sink enters the theater, well late, and he keeps his head low, trying not to be noticed how late he is. He stands at the back trying
to make out the other Dragons in the crowd. Bobbing up and down, the stretching on his toes. It's a ancient problem, but there's a modern
solution. He slips into a seat, and then presses his com and whispers into it, waiting for directions.
Zachary looks takes Alaren's hand in his while the Grinch is unwinding his deceitful spiel for the tiny, innocent Who. When the soft
whimper of one of the smaller orphan children rises into the air, the man sighs and shakes his head. He leans toward Alaren to whisper a few
words to her.
Alaren chuckles softly at the dog's dilemma. She leans a bit over toward Zach as he whispers to her and smiles at the reaction of
the children.
**ACT IV. ON THE STAGE**
The curtain opens again.
The Narrator (Dale's) voice becomes quieter as the music calms a little, as the lights focus again on the grinch and max. Max's
antlers have been fixed...mostly...Poor fella. "up up he went...three thousand feet up! Up the side of Mt. Crumpit... He rode with his load
to the tiptop to dump it!..."
**ON STAGE**
As the Whos begin to wake up from their peaceful slumber, having dreamed of every wish they wanted for Christmas as they run out
into their living rooms in hope of diving head-long into their presents but when they arrive, an expression of shock and awe appears as
their Christmas dreams are dashed. No trucks, no trains, no dolls, no balls, no tiny robot with the little wind-up key, even gone was the
Christmas tree. The nails holding the stockings up were taken out as well and their cupboard was as empty as after a Wal-Mart Black Friday
sale. Nothing was left now for the Whos and they all wandered outside to see what they could do. The entire town looked as it had been
pillaged as not even a single strand of garland garnished the whole village. Even the buttons had been stolen off the Mayor's jacket as he
rounds up the Whos towards where the feast would be held but even all the food was stolen, including the smell. No puddings, pies, loaves of
rye, cupcakes, pancakes, crabcakes, salmon cakes, frosting of every color and taste, all fruit big and small, tarts as wide as one is tall.
Not even the mighty pine in the center of town was immune to having all of its ornaments taken down. From bottom ot top, everything was
taken away. Even the star on the top from where it was displayed. Even though everything was gone, the spirit of Christmas inside of them
still lived on. All of the Whos begin to gather around the tree, clasping hands into one another as they all begin to sing with glee. Their
voices began to raise higher and higher into the sky even to where the angels fly. There was no pain or hurt in their hearts because they
knew that the Christmas spirit could never be torn apart. <English>
**ON STAGE**
Santa Clause lied, oh no, this can not be! But even for little Cindy Lou Who, there still was belief.. Belief that Christmas could
still go on, without all the lavish decorations. To mingle with loved ones and friends alike, does the little Who girl go to join hands.
Swaying along with the other Who's as her tiny hands grasped so delicately around those that stand on either side of her. Cindy Lou Who's
heart has not shrunk one bit, as her head turns to the side as big blue eyes stare out at the mountain where the Grinch lives. "Merry
Christmas, Mr. Grinch.", she says in a soft voice, even no sight of the Grinch has been made. For within her big heart does she believe that
Christmas should be celebrated even by a flea.
**ON STAGE**
Children, children everywhere! Who let all these kids into an Opera House?! Some of those in the audience take this moment to rush
at their silbings and friends on the stage making music, at least as much as they understand it. Or they could be trying to get closer to
the green and red packages that the Grinch stole. "Fah who for-aze! Dah who dor-aze! Welcome Christmas, come this way!" Is this the right
time for singing? Well, the Fruitcake tries to round up the new children and get them to settle down into a circle, but she's singing with
them. Keeping the ones waving and encouraging more to follow focused on the song and in general trying to keep things moving along. Children
dressed like Whos mingle with the ones from the audience dressed in Christmas sweaters.
**ON STAGE**
The Grinch makes a big scene as he creeps and crawls around his mountain/balcony home. "The Whos is just waking up, and I is going
to lurk about to catch first eyefuls of their blubbering when the come to see their Yule Tides done turned to Gruel Tide!" (We get it, we
get it: the Grinch likes puns and is thus evil.) Finally on the ground he inches across the stage with a hand cupped behind his ear. But the
who's aren't sobbing, they're in the midst of Christmas caroling. "Dammit." The Grinch stomps and tantrums. "Don't make no right sense. I
done robbed them blind and here they is in full on hootenanny mode. Ought to be snot running down their noses they is crying so hard." He
scratches his head, then rubs his chin as he paces. "Unless," he pauses, "This Christmassing business means something more." As the Grinch
looks on toward the Who celebration, he pulls from his pocket a red origami heart the size of a postcard. Then he unfolds it, and unfolds
it, until wholly unfurled it's a poster sized heart marked '3x.' Either the Grinch has long-term heart disease to make his aorta swell up so
much, or the Christmas spirit is a form of non-lethal and cosmetic heart disease. Let's hope for the later.
**ON STAGE**
At the other end of the balcony, Max the Dog emerges to hang out with the Whos' Roast, which still looks quite fresh and sumptuous,
considering that it's been manhandled in a sack and dragged up a mountain slope. The Santa Grinch Gambit is ostensibly over, and yet,
someone has seen fit to make sure those moose antlers won't be coming off except by Chainsaw-Wielding Maniac. The extra thick band of
leather across his forehead is reminiscent of a more adult theme of play-acting. He looks a little dazed and accidentally looks out into the
audience, obviously breaking the Fourth Wall. He'll never work in Paquin again. As the Grinch begins to transform from Horrible No-good-nik
to Seraphic Born-Again Who, Max rouses up and creeps forward, tail beginning to wag hopefully as he peers up at the cheap heart prop. Then,
realizing Good Times is ahead, he sits up to pant happily.
Andrew Owen overhears Sink on the com, and then whispers back, "We're in a group near the front. Look for me, Cal, and Trev." To
Cal, he asks, "What did you have in mind?"
Too many painkillers + Pix + Christmas plays = festive mostly unconscious drooling on the shoulder of the audience member beside
her. Cheerful festive drooling, even. Dang, she's missin' hootenanny mode. Pixie is totally down with the hootenanny.
Quintus had been fanning himself with his program when the curtain once more arose. With the multitude of bodies in the hall, in
spite of those ungrateful culture-hating whipper-snappers who had the temerity to -leave- before the play had been completed, it had started
to become stuffy. Stuffier still was the woman next to him who insisted, for some odd reason, that he should be utterly fascinated by her
8-year old nephew's cavities. Bleh... his seat was wonderful, it was just the ones next to him that left some to be desired. But as the
lights dimmed and the action resumed on stage, Quintus was relieved to be transported once more from the mundane life of the real world into
the portrayed imaginings unfolding before him. As impressive as the set decorations of Whoville had been, there was something particularly
intriguing by the manner in which they had been -removed-. Something tingled in the back of his mind, some profound metaphorical concept
that his subconscious recognised but his intellectual mind failed in its duty to articulate into words. It was a transformation of death,
not in the mortal sense but instead a spiritual death: not a passing but a -change-. But whatever her environs, there was -no- change in
Cindy Lou who clung to her faith in the powers at the top of the mountain were powers ultimately for goodness, no matter how determined the
Grinch was to be, well, a grinch. There was no change in the children who rang and sang as Dr. Lambsey-- that is, the Fruitcake coordinated
the children with the same tireless endeavouring as she did her interns.
Now with clear direction Sink makes his way crouched low down the isle, and finds Trevor and company. After several quiet pardons, a
wincing sorry, and more 'excuse me's he finds a seat beside the his friends. He gives everyone a wave, and a smile and settles in for the
rest of the play.
Trevor smiles briefly to Cal "no need to bring anything to eat or drink, might want to go shopping for presents if you wish
however." he shrugs "other than that, no need to bring anything but yourself, and well Magnus if he wishes to come." he smiles briefly.
**ON STAGE**
Here the Grinch is--a man-muppet with an oversized heart watching the whole of Whoville celebrate the Christmas he tried to ruin.
This ought to surly him up royally and send him to making a series of threatening phone calls to the better business bureau about proper
returns for proper efforts. But old mister green-jeans is full of candy cane flavored blood and bones made of wadded up wrapping paper. He
wipes away a tear, then scampers back into the dark of his hideout with its Christmas horde. It's like some kind of reverse Santa's
Workshop, and in a jiffy he's on his way back down to Whoville with all the loot. "Come on, Max," he hollers on the way down. The city
apparently employs no federal marshals, so he's not horribly gunned down in the process of discovering the true spirit of the season. And
what says the season better than a big steaming beast carcass towed in on a sled. Grinch thumps the still steaming roast beast on the
feasting table and proceeds to cut the hell out of it. Maybe he'll get that heart disease after all.
**ON STAGE**
Arf arf! Max the Dog does a serviceable scamper on All Fours, pushing the Prop Roast off stage, then coming back with... Holy Human
Ham... it's the Roast Beast! Max hustles Beast over to join the Grinch, considering the Mock Sleigh of Stolen Love is only pretend-moving,
and they go mock-whizzing happily along for a hair-flipping few moments, until they can clamber back out and join up with the Whos.
Trevor smiles and continues watching the play and smiles at the way the plays turning of course he knew it would, so those feelings
of wishing to shoot the grinch and max earlier if it weren't a play have gone. He may not shoot them but neither would he be very friendly
to them if they were real of course... He smiles and continues watching.
Andrew Owen nods a few times to Cal and Trevor, gives his captain a smile and a little two-fingered salute, and then focuses most of
his attention on the performance.
"Captain," Cal murmurs to Sink before she nods again to Trevor, "Hm. Indeed, good point. I'll have to put some thought into that,"
she says in a pensive tone of voice before falling silent yet again.
VonDye mutters darkly and endlessly at the happy turn of events in the play, refraining from outright boo'ing. Boo'ing at charitable
events was even too low for /him./ Not that he'd been behavin' himself up to that point. "Got any theories to throw out why I'm still here
again?" he asks that poor, harassed person next to him. To his surprise, he gets an answer, as kids rush the stage. Nothing like chaotic,
pint-sized trouble for entertainment.
**ON STAGE**
One child gets smacked by another as the Fruitcake's attention is taken by the efforts of Max and the Grinch. Does poor Lee--erm Max
have those antlers bolted on now? The child that is smacked starts screaming, "I want my mommy!!!". Several jump up to rush the Grinch.
Another says, "I want Max for Christmas!!" That would be a young girl who has this dreamy star struck expression. Poor Max, already has a
president of his poster child for antler abuse fanclub. Fruitcake tries to keep the kids singing or dancing or anything but having them
break down into the "I want! I want! Me! Me! Me!" that would send the poor Grinch back to his cave to hold his own hootenany. I mean she
tries to keep the stage under control but there is a flood of children going here, there and everywhere and a LOOK might be sent toward the
Roast Beast and the Mayor for control of these kids. <English>
**ON STAGE**
When all the Who's have gathered for the feast, Cindy Lou Who abandons her seat. The prancing of feet laid down onto the ground as
she makes her way to Mr. Grinch's seat. Spinning around, before settling herself down onto the green one's lap to partake within the
Christmas Feast. Though, it can easily be seen as a maneuver to protect Mr. Grinch from onslaught of children that is all too easily
disappeared from her vision. A bright smile shown to each, as she watches with delight the happiness of the occasion. Oblivious to the fact
that she's sitting in one's lap that once had a heart too small to see, and a large knife that is about to cut into the roast beast. "Merry
Christmas, Mr. Grinch.", she says within that voice that is all too sweet. A tip of her head, a kiss placed on his /CHEEK/.
**ON STAGE**
What is this? Rather, who is that? Who is the tall man who is willing to don a brown speedo wearing... pineapple slices? The Roast
Beast stands proud where he is allowing the Grinch to 'carve' into him as the group of kids escapes the wrangling fruitcake, charging the
bare man, taking him down to the floor as he lets out various yelps as certain areas of his body get stepped all over, "Oy! Watch where
ya...-! OH GOD THE PAIN!" the Irish man yells out, his brown arms flailing as the kids tumble all over him, laughing... curtain? CURTAIN!?
**DESC - Bear the Roast Beast**
Tousled chocolate brown hair that looks as if he had just fallen out of bed partially covers a friendly, moderately weathered face
as a pair of curious sea green eyes are deep-set into his visage, peering through the satin-like strands. High cheekbones contour the shape
of his face, his jaw line is strong and firm as it comes to a broad tip. His 6'3" frame is lean with a bit of muscular tone indicating he is
no stranger to moving his 215 pounds of weight around. His darkened skin would tell the tale of his days out under the sun and the
occasional scars from nicks and scrapes from journeys and battles with the elements.
He's dressed for the play -- well that is, what little dress there is for him. His part is of the Roast Beast and he's gone with the
liberty to strip down and body paint himself brown with grill marks on his front and back. He's wearing a brown speedo that echoes the grill
marks and has round yellow 'pineapple' affixed to the front and back. Also with the speedo he had taken the time to attach multiple yellow
'pineapple' together with fishing wire and made it into a 'shirt'. He carries an apple and is wearing white lab shoes to mimic the little
paper caps on the ends of bones. Through the paint you can still vaguely see his tattoos on his toned inner forearms, the word Veritas' on
the left and Aequitas' is on the right, both of them inked in Gaelic scripture.
**ON STAGE**
Seeing the look in the Fruitcake's eyes, the Mayor nods softly as he does his best to wrangle the children without the use of
small-arms fire and close-quarter combat techniques. "Come on, children! After we feast, we have presents to unwrap!" Strange...It's a
rarity to see a six-foot-three Who but one with a thick irish brogue is completely an urban legend like Bigfoot or Michael Jackson. Most of
the children begin to behave and gather around the mayor, taking some of the stress off the Fruitcake and flashes a playful wink in her
direction.
A memory jumps into the Narrator's head as he sees Max...and then all the clamoring children. Ah... yes. This is exactly what
happened the last time he was in this play when he was twelve. Children getting manic over the thought of getting presents from the
christmas tree before the play is over! At least Chaos hasn't erupted yet. He tries not to facepalm. Unfortunately, as Narrator he can't
get out there and help. He can call curtain though! The final words of the play are spoken by the Narrorator of course "And he himself...
carved the uh roast beast..." Curtain closes. Please God, don't let Ivy Scream, Don't let Ivy scream... This is not Nightmare before
Christmas....
Close curtain! Close Curtain!
As the curtain came down, Quintus awaited its subsequent rise to reveal the players no longer in their character acting, no longer
as Whos or Jolly Green Men or canine reindeer but as human beings, human beings whose only desire was to entertain, whose desire was sated
in the manifestation of his clapping, and that of the many people around him who chose to display their appreciation in the Western
tradition. Some arose from their seats, others whistled. The gentleman contented himself with a simple 'Bravo!' It was a fine performance,
an excellent one when one took into account that it was an entirely amateur production, but it nevertheless wasn't the Met. And whose idea
was it to let all those rambunctuous children on the stage at the end, anyhow? Somebody, in his estimation, who managed to forget that
inescapable fact that anybody under the age of 7, and half of the people of those older, had attention spans that lasted no longer than a
half-hour, much less the full length of a play. Too much energy, too much fatigue, all culminating in chaos as the adults were overcome by
the forces that conspired against them.
The curtain does fall and then rise again as everyone gets together to do a bow.
The children are impressively back under control though several of them have packages in their hand. They work quickly.
Gregory applauds as the play is finally over. He made it through without drinking. "Yeah, I definitely need a few shots now." Greg
shakes his head as he waits for the crowd to disperse. "No point trying to muscle his way out of all these kids when they'll be running out
soon enough," he comments to his fellow crew members.
Stepping out from under the curtain, Wayde takes his lime-green tophat off and offer a generous and genteel bow to the audience, a
wide chesire cat-like grin planted firmly on his visage.
Having molested Baltimore..err.. Grinch more than she has ever cared to, Anastasiya aka Cindy Lou Who is rather hesitant to actually
come out on stage next to the green man himself. Oh there will be a time that she can lose the facade and then all hell will break lose. Not
now though. That bright smile is once more planted onto her lips as she lowers herself down FACING THE AUDIENCE to take a bow.
Zachary glances to Alaren, grins, and begins to applaud enthusiastically. "They really did a great job of this. I hope that the kids
enjoyed it," he says to her.
The Roast Beast steps forward and bows within sequence, body paint smudged by childrens foot prints, hair even more messed up than
normal, and... is that a bite mark on his leg?
Balt is still covered in green make up and hair as he comes out on stage. Frankly it looks like he fell asleep at a frat party, but
isn't that what musical theater essentially is anyhow? It takes him a moment to find his way out and bows.
Alaren also applauds and smiles at the enthusiastic children. She looks at Balt and gives him a wink, then turns to leave following
the flow of folks exiting the area.
Sink stares at the stage, then turns to Cal, "Hummm, I don't remember the book ending that way." He claps slowly, still trying to
find out what went on, "This some sort of social commentary?"
Zachary follows Alaren, his hand on the small of her back as the make their way through the throng of people.
Lee romps through the gap in the curtains as though still in character, sitting up in the classic beggar pose for the benefit of the
children in the audience, before hopping to his feet and bowing for the adults. Before he disappears behind the curtain again, he turns and
gives his tail a good wagging. /That's/ for all you soccer mums out there.
Dale comes out to thank the audience, "Thank you very much for your generous donations and for coming out today. There will be a
reception in about an hour's time." there's someone passing out presents to little kids, Dale looks pretty tired himself, but thank
goodness, went off without a hitch. "Thank you, thank you again."
Cal manages to smother a laugh, somehow, but her eyes sparkle with amusement as she says in return, "Perhaps. But, ours is not to
ask why, hmm?" she remarks before her hands lift to applaud as well for a few more moments as the crowd starts to rise from their seats.
Von stands and starts whooping loudly, as if at the racetrack and not the theater. He calls out something, but it's lost in the
garble of audience applause and chatter and whatnot. Given how intoxicated he was, and the woman covering her child's ears some seats down,
it's clear it wasn't exactly g-rated. He then boosts himself over the back of the chair and lingers near the far wall.
Trevor watches and smiles and applauds politely at the cast. He looks to them with interest. Not looking for any bite markes
however. He smiles and continues to watch for now and looks to those near him... "Interesting indeed." he smiles.
This is an Opera house, there are people now circulating for the reception with trays of food and alcohol. No alcohol for the
children, there is that fake champagne that is really just overpriced juice but it's for charity, they only got overcharged, not mugged.
Music starts up again as the cast takes a bow, there a bow, everywhere a ..bow-wow? Where did Max go anyway?
Andrew Owen is possibly even less sure of what just happened than Sink is; he's currently clapping, chuckling, and wearing an
expression of puzzlement simultaneously. "If only every play were that bizarre," he finally says to no one in particular. "Part of me wants
to bug Wayde and Kent later to try and find out what happened, but I think it may be more entertaining when we have absolutely no idea."
Soccer Mum? Well, afraid not for Cindy Lou Who who's eyes are not so innocent slanted to the side to watch the wagging of a certain
tail. There's something else on the agenda currently, as one hand scoots behind her. No turning tail to run, instead she's slowly creeping
back to the curtain all the while with that hand behind. Ruffled Panties are not meant for bowing..
Pix snorts and is shaken awake as her headrest stands to clap for the players. She almost slides right out of her chair onto her
pajama wearin' ass. Snort. "Ow. What the hell?" She looks around a little blearily, as if she isn't quite sure how she got here, or even
where here is.
Balt leans over to the mayor. "Ain't there supposed to be some manner of cast party, with all sorts spirits and lady folk with low
self esteem?" he mutters, but not quite soft enough to escape the ears of a few surrounding children. Oh well, his heart has acromeglia or
something now, right? That ought to buy him some pre-teen street cred.
"Could be that it wasn't precisely intended to end up quite like that. But.." and Cal shrugs again, "it's live theatre. If the
building doesn't burn down and the audience doesn't rush the stage.. it's probably considered a good showing."
One of the children rushes the stage, he's holding a boquet of roses for Cindy Lou Who. Another has a a dog collar for Max (sorry
Max) and a large chocolate dog bone. What do you get the Grinch that has everything? An older, more responsible child climbs toward the
stage carrying a bottle of scotch with a big Christmas bow on it.
A hearty chuckles rolls out as Wayde shrugs his massive shoulders, replying to the Grinch. "I wouldn't mind Cindy Lou feasting on my
roast beast and gobbling down some Who-pudding but those days are behind me. Help yourself though." He pats Baltimore on the back, grinning
mischeivously as he moves to step off the stage and head out to mingle with the members of the audience.
Pix reaches up to touch the little iComm unit in her ear, and mutters into it to try to rouse her ship. But there be one lil
problem. Her ship... is on Persephone. "... pills were those?" She hunches over in her chair, not quite able to sit up proper. She reaches
up and rubs a hand over her face, squinching her eyes closed. "Man that was some weird ass dream." She wipes a little drool from her chin.
Frozen within her place before she can actually attempt to cure her own problem is Cindy Lou Who with the children rush up to stage.
Lowering herself down onto her knees to actually be proper child height, she reaches out to accept the flowers. A soft conversation emerges
between the two which ends with a pat on the head. Waiting until the coast is clear, she's quick to rise once more and go behind the curtain
for a few minutes.
The mayor sure likes clapping Balt on the back, as if the man didn't know he was part sasquartch. "Must say can't remember myself if
them kissing bits was in the script." Maybe he needs to read more than just his own monologues. But what's this? A bottle of Scotch!
Grinch/Balt would hug this kid if it weren't for local laws against certain overly theatrical men groping kids. "Son, if you was an orphan,
I'd give an honest think or two on adopting you." Alright, that may be a lie, but that child's Christmas gift is hope.
Lee is obliged to stick around in the foreground in his glossy Max costume for a while yet, and remain on his knees besides, since
his fans are of the three-apples-high variety. He dubiously allows the collar to be slung around his neck - luckily the child is kind enough
to keep it loose enough to breath around. The chocolate bone, however... Lee mouths it long enough to pose for a picture taken by the
child's mother, then discretely palms it away.
The befuddled sushi pajama wearing Pixie shoves her hands into her pockets, still seated facing the stage. She pulls out a lighter
in one hand, and a pack of smokes in the other. Hm. "Those ain't mine." Shove back in pockets. She glances around at the crowd, then moves
to push herself up from the chair, partly bent over as she makes her way gingerly through the crowd, a hand on her right side. She shuffles
toward the exit in her slippers. This could take a while.
Dale just watches the cast members with a fond expression. They've all done an amazing job. Really, it was more than he or Ivy could
have expected. God he hopes no one asks him to do this again. He rubs the back of his neck and gets slightly distracted. Hard to tell what
he's looking at though with all the clamoring going on.
