Open Mic

[Snypiuer]

OOC: For all you young whippersnapper's, Ed Sullivan was a famous guy. . . .really.

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A salamander steps up to the microphone. He's short and wears a dinner jacket with wide, square shoulders. With pursed lips he says, "Good evening Lady's, gentlemen and individuals of indeterminate gender and/or repute. My name is Ed Salamander and we have a really good shoe for you tonight, a really good shoe. We will be having an open mic, so we're inviting anybody who wants to, to step up and sing, do some jokes, one act play, what ever they feel like. We were expecting one Topo Gigo, T-o-p-o Gi-go, is NOT here, so, our first performers will be a group of 4 young singers -The SSS!"

 

Snypiuer and his 3 squirrel companions step on stage.

 

Sylv on drums, Pith on lead/rhythm lute, Mr. Moog on base lute and Snypiuer on lead vocals (a cluster of boos arise from the audience when this is noticed) and rhythm lute.

 

 

 

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OOC: The song is sung to Rick Springfield's 'Jessie's Girl' and (I must say) something that seems to has to have been done before. I checked (O.K. not TOO hard - do you have ANY idea how much stuff comes up when you search for Wyvern and geld?) and found nothing. So, if this is plagiarism of sorts, please except my sincerest apologies.

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A squeal of feedback comes from the mic as Snypiuer speaks, "Good evening. We're The SSS and this is 'Wyvern's Geld'"

 

(Mr. Moog starts in with the opening base line)

 

Wyvern is a friend,

Yeah I know he's been a good friend of mine

But lately something's changed

It ain't hard to define

Wyvern's got himself some geld

And I want to make it mine

 

But he guards it with greedy eyes

As he's holdin' it with his talons, I just know it!

And he's stackin' and countin' it late, late at night

 

You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

Where can I find it, some money like that?

 

I'll distract him with a parade

That doesn't seem to take his gaze from his change

You know it gets all dirty 'cause he hides it 'neath his suit

I wanna take away all his geld but my @ss he'd probably shoot

 

'Cause he guards it with greedy eyes

As he's holdin' it with his talons, I just know it!

And he's stackin' and countin' it late, late at night

 

You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

Where can I find it, some money like that?

 

Like Wyvern's geld

I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

Where can I find it, some money...

Where can I find it, some money like that?

 

And I'm lookin' for the most opportune time

Wonderin' when he just won't see me

I've been stealthy; I've been cool with trip lines

Ain't that the way a thief's supposed to be?

 

Tell me

Why can't I find some money like that?

 

You know I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

I want Wyvern's geld

 

Where can I find it, some money like that?

 

Like Wyvern's geld

I wish that I had Wyvern's geld

I want, I want Wyvern's geld

 

 

 

The SSS end the song and thank the crowd, "Thank you! You're great! We love you all! We'll be back later!"

 

Ed comes back, "Wasn't that great? The SSS will be back later. Now T-o-p-o Gi. . . ." (looks off stage and whispers "Still not here?"") continues to crowd, "Our next performer is. . ."

[Wyvern]

"... Wyvern Q. Almostdragon, with another song to sing for you swell guys and gals tonight."

 

Backstage, Wyvern stares at his song "Snypiuer's Geld" with a glum expression, feeling distinctly inferior with his near identical lyrics and lack of dynamic live band. The overgrown lizard grumbles nervously as Ed Salamander clears his throat and repeats his name, pronouncing it "Wayvern" this time rather than "Whyvern." The reptilian Elder rolls his eyes and crumples up the sheet of paper with the song on it, tossing it to the side and mumbling something to a troglyodyte assistant of his before wandering deeper backstage.

 

"Wivern... Weevern Almostdragon?"

 

Ed Salamander scratches his head, then pauses as a troglyodyte with a violin case steps out onto the stage and whispers something into his ear.

 

"Oh, well alright... Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Almostdragon's song is apparently going to be substituted by an interpretive dance number this evening. So here's Wyvern, with his dance, 'The Life and Death of Almost Dragonic Brand Ad Poster Leotards™'"

 

The lights dim as the troglyodyte pulls out his miniature goblin violin, playing its whip wire strings with a sharpened funny bone. Wyvern steps out stage left, dressed in only an ill-fitted paper leotard baring an advertisement for Almost Dragonic Brand Scale Softening Lotion™. The almost dragonic dancer raises his arms and wings and tippy-toes forward ballerina style, only to collapse into a heap and roll on the floor to convey the effect of the leotards being created... that, or he slipped on his tail. Scrambling back up to his feet, the overgrown lizard begins dashing across the stage in zig-zagging lines meant to represent sales charts, only to start running in a straight line down until he reaches the very front of the stage. He drops to his knees with a wail and digs his claws into the upper part of his leotard, ripping the paper open as the goblin violin reaches a crescendo. Wyvern waits several minutes for an applause, frozen in place, until he realizes that even the crickets have been put to sleep.

 

"Eheheheh... tough crowd. Guesss it's on to Plan B."

 

Wyvern stands back up and clears his throat loudly, then scoops up his tail and plucks off four geld-attracting magnets that rest on it. He flashes a wide grin to the crowd as he begins juggling the magnets while tap dancing without the necessary shoes, lasting all of 10 seconds before the magnets fall and land on his feet with a painful clatter. Silence.

 

"Errr, Plan C... Ssssuccubi humor!" Wyvern bites his lip and adjusts a loose hanging strip of paper around his neck like a tie, visibly nervous. "Knock knock. Who'sss there? No one, that'sss just the sound of the bedpost. Ah-HAWHAHAHAHA!"

 

Wyvern's forced laughter echoes through the otherwise quiet Conservatory.

 

"So uhhh, a succubus, an almost dragon, and a naked priessst are sitting at a bar. And ummm, lessee, I remembered thisss one in rehearsalsss..."

[The Big Pointy One]

After Wyvern's thirtieth knock-knock joke finally there is intervention in the form what appears to be a sandbag full to the brim with carrots. As he's about give the answer to yet another variation of "Succ who?" the bag catches him in the head and he lets out a startled squawk. To the left of him, Stick walks in from side stage, Mr.Bunny resting on his shoulder, grinning, if one could recognize the grin of a rabbit.

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for Wyvern! Whew, that was an adventure!"

 

Standing up, dazed, Wyvern interrupts Stick with "But, I wasss jusst gonna tell them the one about the Succubusss, the Ssseven and a bag of coinsss..."

 

"Ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce my friend... the Big Pointy MALLET!" Stick shouts as produces a ten foot long red rubber mallet that doesn't actually appear to be pointy at all. "I think we all know where this is going..." Wyvern gulps, picks up his tail and begins to sneak off stage, but unfortunately is a mite too slow. With a mighty WALLOP! Stick swings around his mallet and helps Wyvern exit stage right to mixed reactions, but mostly cheers. "Alright everybody, we know return to our regular scheduled program. Next on the list is the comedic duo fondly known as 'Carrotstick!' That's right, it's me and Mr.Bunny. I tell ya folks, we worked all week on our comedy routine, and we have some great jokes for you." Stick looks around the audience with a grin then says, "~Ahem~ Okay, so a succubus, a tall guy and his rabbit companion and a naked priest are sitting at a bar..."

[Signe]

Stick slowly becomes aware that while the audience is completely riveted, the glazed eyes, gaping jaws and tented pants probably don't have anything to do with his jokes. His suspicion is confirmed when one of Signe's handmaidens, dressed in the skimpiest tuxedo he's ever seen, gently takes him by the hand and draws him to to stage left. Two others, dressed identically, are stage right helping Wyvern to his swaying feet, one of them holding a cold compress to the back of his head.

 

At centre stage, eclipsing even the gravity-defying attributes of the handmaidens and object of the fascinated audience's attention poses Signe.

 

Her costume consists of a tall black top hat with a veil tipped rakishly over one eye, and a dress that covers a surprising amount of skin. At least, the fact that she is covered from neck to wrist to toe WOULD be surprising, if the fabric weren't translucent, the reflections from the stagelights the only things maintaining her dubious modesty.

 

"Boys boys boys...." even without a mic her throaty voice carries through the silent theatre. "you've both been taking my name in vain! but that's all right. I'm a generous s- soul." Her demonic mouth chokes on the last word, and it seems to take more than the usual amount of tongue to pronounce.

 

"I've decided there's a way you can both make it up to me!" her eyes caress each in turn. "and if you're VERY good... I might have a VERY special prize for the winner."

 

Signe gestures, and both Stick and Wyvern are suddenly drenched with Signe's private reserve massage oil. It has been stored in casks in a warm damp place for months after being sluiced over her naked body, and the theatre is suddenly filled with the aroma of happy succubus.

"And now, for the pleasure of the pen, I present - a wrestling match!"

 

Signe smiles, and awaits the beginning of the combat.

[Wyvern]

Wyvern's face twitches as the private massage oil dribbles down his outfit and scales, his eyes clearly focused on the room's demonic center of attention while his dangling tongue and pants (and pants) speak volumes. The overgrown lizard tilts his head in the hopes of spotting a better angle of Signe's outfit and all that it encompasses, then clears his throat and turns in the direction of Carrotstick with a competitive sneer. He coils his wings around himself to spread the oil better over his body, overlapping them as best as he can to imitate chest muscles and flexing his arms around them in an ample display of almost dragonic machismo. Wyvern's eyes dart back to Signe and the handmaidens ever so often as he speaks, evoking little pauses and slurs in his speech.

 

"So uhh, Ssstick... I'm not so sure if there's a civil way to settle this wrestling match, but I'll offer ya a deal." Wyvern spreads his wings out and arches them back, his previous shirt now hanging over one of them as his oil slick crimson scales gleam in the spotlights. "You know those bootleg Almost Dragonic Brand Mr. Bunni products you were trying to confissscate from me all those years? Well... you can HAVE'EM!"

 

Wyvern reaches into his belt and pulls out an Almost Dragonic Brand Bootleg Mr. Bunni Stuffed Carrot™, tossing it at Mr. Bunny and charging forward with a shaky almost dragonic battle hiss. The reptilian wrestler immediately begins slipping over the massage oil surrounding his feet as the bootleg stuffed carrot bounces harmlessly off of Mr. Bunny's ears, proving to be little distraction for Stick as he winds up the Big Pointy Mallet for another swing. Wyvern lets out a high-pitched yelp as he stumbles forward over the oil, his tail stinger accidentally hooking itself onto Stick's shoe as he flails his way into batting range. Stick promptly connects with a clobber of his mallet, only to send Wyvern spinning in circles around him, his tail raveling further and further around Stick's leg and bringing the overgrown lizard closer and closer to him. A few high-pitched whistles ring from the crowds as Wyvern's tail finally runs its length, sending the scaled dynamo into a head-on collision with Stick and nailing the two of them to the floor. Wyvern stuggles in full-on wrestling mode with Stick, wings batting behind him, his eyes spinning dizzily.

 

"H-hey, no fair multiplying yourssself like that Ssstick!"

 

Wyvern blinks over the dizzy images as his eyes slowly come back into focus, but not before the sight of Signe's derriere begins spinning around his head, momentarily distracting him from his wrestling grapples.