untitled f*ck m*ss s**gon play (NHB Modern Plays) (eBook)

1906

Date of the NYC premiere of Puccini’s opera, third draft, Madama Butterfly at the Metropolitan Opera.

NARRATOR (on a mic). Lights up on a muddy road through a muddy village, which, though muddy, is also misty and mysterious.

There’s music – a swelling overture of some kinda vaguely shakuhachi/shamisen type of thing with a Western vibe laid over the top for dramatic tension.

Peasants shuffle to and fro, some might have baskets on their heads; they gesticulate, like peasants do.

KIM enters, she is young, virginal, frightened, plucky, hopeful, noble, dirt poor but very clean otherwise, and has really great skin.

A massive horn blast from a steamship arriving in the nearby harbor shakes the air.

The peasants gape at the sky in awe and exclaim unintelligibly: (Like maybe they just mutter the same word over and over, like ‘ohayo gozaimasu’ for instance.)

Another blast from the ship (closer, louder) the peasants exclaim and scurry.

KIM tries to scurry, takes one step, and falls down.

KIM. Oh!

NARRATOR. ROSIE enters, an older peasant woman wearing the standard Asian peasant pajama set but with a Western vest over the top and a pair of bright-red cowboy boots.

(She drags KIM to her feet.)

ROSIE. Kim!! The Americans are here! It’s our chance to escape this cesspool of a country!

KIM. What?

ROSIE. Don’t you want to go to America?

KIM. Uh –

ROSIE. It’s our only hope!

KIM. Oh my god! Really? But I don’t have any money for a ticket!

NARRATOR. ROSIE slaps KIM’s ass.

ROSIE. That’s your ticket right there, my little cherry blossom!

KIM (shy, embarrassed). Oh, Mother!

ROSIE. Just follow my lead and we’ll wave sayonara to this shitstain of a village and be on our way to a new life in America where there are equal rights for women! Stand up straight, shoulders back, tits up – here comes your future!

NARRATOR. (They stand at the side of the road.) ROSIE arranges KIM’s clothes and hair for the sexiest effect.

KIM stands quietly, like a doll being dressed.

(Lights shift), a romantic haze floods the stage as:

CLARK enters.

He is tall, he is boyish and rugged and handsome and clearly does weights, cardio and High Intensity Interval Training at least four times a week – he looks like he could lift KIM up and break her in half over his knee, but he also exudes a very attractive manly gentleness and social-consciousness which we can discern in the way he regards with revulsion the oily conniving peasant men scurrying around him, trying to sell him their daughters. The scurrying peasants part like the sea as CLARK strides through the village.

(Text in square brackets should be projected as subtitles, or spoken by NARRATOR, or both.)

CLARK. Maki. [Greetings.]
Kimono sushi ohayo ichi ni san. [We come in peace from the West.] Maguro! Saba! [We bring news of the modern world to you!] Kyoto dojo katana – [We hope to open trade and avert any conflict with – ]

NARRATOR. His eyes meet KIM’s across the scurrying crowd. She lowers her eyes modestly, ROSIE grins and pulls her over to CLARK.

ROSIE. Welcome to our humble village, most Number One American Son.

CLARK. Onigiri. Sake. Hashi…? [Thanks. I’m happy to be here. And this is…?]

ROSIE. This is Kim. Would you like to come over for dinner?

CLARK. Honto go! [Would I ever!] Okonomiyaki. [Say eight?]

ROSIE. Maybe earlier – at six?

CLARK. Kurosawa. [Wonderful.]

NARRATOR. He gently lifts KIM’s chin, her eyes flutter shyly.

CLARK. Fujisan momotaro. [I can’t wait.]

NARRATOR. He bows over her hand, kissing it respectfully yet also kinda sexy-sexy like. KIM’s eyes go wide, she’s never felt man-lips on her skin and it awakens something inside her… something sexy like.

(CLARK smiles and strides away, the villagers murmuring around him.)

KIM (holding the hand CLARK kissed). What is happening?

NARRATOR. ROSIE cackles (delighted) whips out a shamisen and plays an upbeat song as the scene shifts – maybe something like ‘Proud Mary’, the Tina Turner version but with a shamisen.

ROSIE. You are my golden ticket, girlie –

KIM. What? But…

ROSIE. – the way out of this stinking mudhole! I mean do you really want to stay in this hut for the rest of your life?

KIM. Uh –

ROSIE. What other possible future is there for you?

KIM. I had so many dreams.

ROSIE. Psshh – what dreams? You can’t eat dreams.

KIM. Well, but there was that one about having some kind of rice delivery business, I was going to call it ‘Rice Now’ but… but then the rice famine happened and the investors pulled out, so…

ROSIE. So… no dreams.

KIM. Goro the fishmonger’s son has offered to marry me.

ROSIE. Goro the fishmonger’s son is not a dream.

KIM. He likes my rice delivery idea. He was gonna do a fish side to go with it: ‘Rice Now, Fish Later’.

ROSIE. Listen to your mama, you foolish girl. You gotta learn how to defer gratification. If you do your duty, you will have a rice delivery empire in America. And fishmongery? Really? Nothing gets that stink off you at the end of the day, trust me.

NARRATOR. GORO scurries past with a giant basket of fish on his head, leaving a strong smell of fish in his wake.

GORO. Hey Kim!

KIM. Hey Goro!

GORO. The mackerel are running today! I’ll save one for ya!

ROSIE. Kim. My girl. Be better than Goro the fishmonger’s son. Be better than all of this.

KIM. I mean…

ROSIE. Why have the gods made you so beautiful? For nothing?

KIM. I mean –

ROSIE. It’s so you can go to America! Shake that tight ass and we will rise up from the mud and fishy smell of this place!

NARRATOR. (KIM looks at her hand where CLARK kissed it.) A waft of romantic CLARK-haze across the stage, KIM looks off into the distance, bravely.

KIM. Very well. I will do what I must do, Mother.

ROSIE. Great, now go take a bath. And be sure you get everything clean.

KIM (shy, embarrassed). Mother!

ROSIE. You never know where the night will take you, it’s best to be prepared. I left some cherry blossom soap by the tub and we don’t have a razor but I gave my fish knife a good going over with Kenji’s sharpening stone, so, you know… be thorough.

NARRATOR. KIM bows, exits. ROSIE cackles and plays the shamisen again, perhaps ‘Celebration’ by Kool and The Gang.

(She sings and whoever is helping with the set change sings along.)

DANCE BREAK.

Happy villagers, happy in their simple village way.

ROSIE and others. Ceee-leh-brate good times come on! duh nuh nuh nuh, nuh nuh, nuh nuh…

(ROSIE and the others continue to sing the first refrain and verse of ‘Celebration’.)

Meanwhile, a tiny hut-like dwelling has emerged…

So the interior of the hut is Asian in the sense that there is probably a lot of bamboo that has been distressed with a dark-brown stain to make a properly dark, mysterious locale; might be some noren curtains in the doorway, printed with bamboo patterns; cushions on the floor (no chairs) a low table, lots of oil lamps and candles.

Maybe the whole place looks like Pier 1 and Cost Plus had a three-way with Ikea and this hut is their bastard mixed-race child.

(ROSIE fluffs up a futon bed nearby, exits.)

(Lights shift to) evening, after dinner.

CLARK, KIM, and ROSIE sit around the low table, sipping after-dinner tea. KIM is decked out in full kimono with her hair done up high and tight, full of flowers and sparkly ornaments. CLARK can’t keep his eyes off her, she keeps her eyes modestly lowered.

CLARK. Furikake. [Your hair looks really nice.]

NARRATOR. KIM covers her mouth and smiles, with a little shy shake of her head. ROSIE brings a plate of mochi to the table (grins) offers a gold paper crown to CLARK.

CLARK. Desho? [What’s this?]

ROSIE (sneaky grin). Dessert hat.

CLARK. Sashimi! [How fun!]

NARRATOR. ROSIE puts a golden cloth on KIM’s head, hands them each a mochi, directs them to feed a bite to each other, which they do.

ROSIE. And I now pronounce you… (Whispers.)… husband and wife!

CLARK. Tataki? [What was that?]

ROSIE. Mochi is yummy!

CLARK. Ah, dojo, dojo! [Yes, it is!]

(ROSIE stretches and yawns elaborately.)

ROSIE. Welp! I’m all tuckered out, I think I’ll turn in. Enjoy your mochi, kids.

CLARK. Daiko, Rosie. [Thank you, Rosie.] Yamamoto. [Goodnight.]

NARRATOR. ROSIE leaves, but we see her eyes peeking through the bamboo wall. CLARK inches closer to KIM, who brings out a fan and hides her face shyly.

CLARK. Pachinko. [Don’t be afraid.]

KIM....