===================================================================== SANTA, THE CLAUS OF FATE ===================================================================== a one-act play by Joe Blevins (joseph.blevins@verizon.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "Santa Claus" ===================================================================== [Curtain rises. Lights up on a stunning facsimile of the lodge set from "'Manos' The Hands of Fate." It's all there: the purple stucco walls with the lamprey eels, the soot-covered fireplace with the little atlar to Baal, and that hideous portrait of The Master and his favorite hellbeast. The only difference is that the place has been decorated for Christmas! Tinsel and garland are strewn about, along with strands of blinking multi-colored lights. There are stockings hung on the chimney with care... EVIL CARE! Instead of a tree, there's a dead cactus in the corner.] [Presently, the evil hellbeast is curled up on the floor, wearing those adorable reindeer antlers you can buy at the pet store. THE MASTER is sitting in a rocking chair, with TORGO curled up on his lap. The howl of a coyote can be heard in the distance.] [A jovial, deep-voiced NARRATOR is heard.] NARRATOR: Yes, it's Christmas Eve all over the world... even at the Lodge of Sins! Little Torguito is sitting on his Master's lap as the Master tells him all about Christmas and Santa Claus. [Music fades in: the same eight bars of "Jingle Bells" repeated, ad infinitum. The Master speaks to Torgo in an uncharacteristically soft, soothing voice] TORGO: mAsTeR, tElL mE aGaIn aBoUt tHe rEiNdEeR! MASTER: What do you want to know, Torguito? TORGO: hOw dO tHeY fLy, mAsTeR? hOw dO tHeY fLy? MASTER: Magic, Torguito. TORGO: bLaCk mAgIc, mAsTeR? MASTER: Is there any other kind, Torguito? Santa needs his reindeer so he can fly all over the world, leaving presents for all obedient little henchmen and henchwomen. [The Master chuckles gently and playfully musses Torgo's matted, filthy hair.] TORGO: tHiS sAnTa cLaUs mUsT bE a vErY pOwErFuL sOrCeRoR, mAsTeR. MASTER: Indeed he is, Torguito. TORGO: mOrE pOwErFuL tHaN mAnOs hImSeLf? MASTER: Of course not, Torguito. Santa works but one night a year, while Manos is with us always. Besides, you don't see me holding black masses to honor Santa Claus, do you? TORGO: nO, mAsTeR, nOt bLaCk mAsSeS tHe wAy yOu aNd i kNoW tHem. [pause] mAsTeR? MASTER: Yes, Torguito? TORGO: wHy dOeS sAnTa nEvEr lEaVe aNy pReSenTs fOr mE? iS iT bEcAuSe wE'rE pOoR? [The Master chuckles gently again.] MASTER: Of course not, Torguito. Santa loves all demonic, goat-like henchmen, whether they are rich or poor. TORGO: tHeN wHy, mAsTeR, wHy? MASTER: Oh, probably because... [tone suddenly changes] YOU HAVE FAILED AS TORGO! [evil laugh] TORGO: oH. tHaT eXpLaInS iT. tHaNk yOu, mAsTeR. MASTER: Now, you run along to bed. It's Christmas Eve, and Santa will be very displeased if he finds that you're still awake. Go on, scoot. [The Master gently lifts Torgo from his lap and nudges him toward a mildew-stained cot in the corner. Torgo picks up his walking stick and hobbles over to the cot.] TORGO: gOoD nIgHt, mAsTeR. MASTER: Good night, Torgo. I'm going outside to throw a tarp over my brides. It looks chilly out there tonight. [He exits. The "Jingle Bells" music finally stops. Once the Master is safely gone, Torgo kneels by his cot and prays aloud. He is ever so adorable.] TORGO: sAnTa, iF yOu cAn hEaR mE, pLeAse bRiNg mE a bRiDe... aNy bRiDe! tHaT iS aLl i aSk oF yOu tHiS cHriStMaS. oH, aNd a nEw hAnD. tHaT wOuLd bE gReAt. [Prayers said, Torgo slumps down on the cot and tries to go to sleep. All is quiet for a moment. Then, suddenly, someone sneaks onto the stage. It is PITCH -- the demon with the delicate constitution. Pitch is wearing his traditional red bodysuit and black & red striped culottes, along with his horns, pointy beard, etc. He prances lightly over to Torgo's cot and begins whispering in the goatman's ear.] PITCH: That Master of yours has so many brides already! More than he needs! Why don't you just TAKE one? It would be easy! Just use your walking stick to knock the Master unconscious. While he's out cold, you could steal one his wives. You could even ambush him when he comes back inside. He'll never suspect a thing! [Torgo, as if in a trance, rises from his cot and picks up his walking stick. He hobbles very, very slowly across the stage to the front door. Pitch looks pleased.] PITCH: That's it, Torgo! NARRATOR: No, no, Torguito! Put down the blunt instrument and go back to bed. You're a GOOD little henchman! [Torgo pauses, unsure of himself. He glances back and forth between the cot and the door.] TORGO: wHat tO dO? wHat tO dO? [At that moment, the Master enters. He is shocked.] MASTER: [no longer gentle] Torgo! I told you to get to bed! [Torgo practically leaps back to his cot and covers himself with a blanket, trembling. Pitch, assessing the situation, tries to slink away without being noticed.] MASTER: And just WHERE do you think you're going? PITCH: I, uh... I'm... MASTER: Who are you, anyway? What are you doing here? PITCH: Well, you see, my name is Pitch, and I was sent here by Lucifer to... MASTER: Silence! How dare you mention Lucifer in this house? That big phony thinks he's so great, just because he rules the Netherworld. He's too much of a big shot to even return my e-mails. But I'll show him! I'll have my revenge! And as for you, you will pay for this insolence! PITCH: Please, sir, I have a very delicate digestive system! NARRATOR: Uh-oh! Looks like old Pitch is really in for it this time. I hope the Master feeds him chocolate ice cream! [The Master stalks ever closer to a terrified Pitch. Sudden blackout. We hear Pitch pleading with the Master, followed by silence.] NARRATOR: Six months later!!!! [When the lights come back up, the lodge set is just as we left it, except the Christmas decorations are gone. The room is empty now. Music fades in: the familiar four-note Torgo theme. But the character who enters now is not Torgo. It is PITCH, who has developed both a speech impediment and a nervous twitch. He is burdened with heavy luggage and has trouble staying upright.] PITCH: [to audience] i aM piTcH. i tAkE cArE oF tHe pLaCe wHiLe tHe mAsTeR iS aWay! [Pitch mugs to the audience, as we hear the "Looney Toons" theme.] [Blackout. Curtain falls.] [THE END]