===================================================================== CUBA-PALOOZA! ===================================================================== a one-act play by Joe Blevins (joeblev@concentric.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "Red Zone Cuba" ===================================================================== [The stage is darkened. On either side of the stage are two large video monitors. On the screens, we see what appear to be the opening credits for a 1930s comedy short. We see grotesque caricatures of COLEMAN FRANCIS, HAROLD SAUNDERS, and ANTHONY CARDOZA, along with the following text:] THE THREE DRIFTERS (Griffin, Cook, and Landis) in "TERMITE TURMOIL!" Directed by Jules White [The credits are accompanied by a gloomy, minor-key rendition of "Three Blind Mice." We hear a deep, froggy, Carradine-ish VOICE singing the lyrics.] VOICE: Three blind mice, three blind mice See how they run... ALL THE WAY TO HELL! [Credits end.] [Lights up. Curtain rises. The setting is the elegant entrance hall of a ritzy mansion. We see a mammoth front door, picture windows on either side, and an imposing staircase.] [MRS. VANDERTHORPE, a snooty society matron in her 60s, enters. She is accompanied by CADWORTHY, her stone-faced and equally snooty butler. Mrs. Vanderthorpe is in a tizzy. These two characters deliver their dialogue directly to the audience.] VANDERTHORPE: Oh, Cadworthy, I'm simply at my wit's end. I'm throwing a tea party for some of my judgmental and easily-offended society friends, and those exterminators STILL haven't shown up yet. If my guests find out about my termite problem, or if anything goes even slightly askew this afternoon, my social standing will be ruined. CADWORTHY: Relax, Mrs. Vanderthorpe. I spoke with the exterminators personally on the telephone this morning, and they assured me that they would be here this afternoon, and would do their work discretely. VANDERTHORPE: I hope you're right. CADWORTHY: I would stake my reputation on it, madam. VANDERTHORPE: Well, we should be returning to the party. We mustn't let on that anything is amiss. CADWORTHY: Certainly not, madam. [They exit.] [The front door swings open, and three very unsavory-looking men blunder their way into the entrance hall. They are: GRIFFIN, a large and angry man who has a drill sergeant's buzzcut, a gravelly voice, and a face like a bulldog; COOK, a small, rat-like man with a droning voice; and LANDIS, a slow-thinking, slouchy schlub. Griffin is clearly the leader of this uncouth trio. All three men are wearing ill-fitting blue jumpsuits with "ACME PEST CONTROL" on the back. The men look around the room.] [We hear the sound of canned, pre-recorded applause.] LANDIS: [whistles] Phew! What a ritzy place. COOK: It sure was a swell idea to kill those exterminators and steal their uniforms. GRIFFIN: Dummy up, you two! We got a job to do. Remember, we're here for one reason and one reason only -- to steal priceless valuables that we can pawn for bus fare. COOK: Right, Griffin. GRIFFIN: I said dummy up! Don't make me bash your skull in with a claw hammer and dump your lifeless body in a ravine. [Sound: canned laughter.] GRIFFIN: Now that you two ladies are finished chit-chatting, we can get to work. The way I figure it, there's got to be a hidden wall safe somewhere around here. We need to find it. [Cook and Landis nod in agreement. There is a pause.] GRIFFIN: Well, don't just stand there staring at me, chowderheads! Start looking! Cook, you start looking over there. [Griffin points to one corner of the room.] Landis, you start looking over there. [He points to another part of the room.] MOVE! [The three men busy themselves with their search, nonchalantly breaking delicate vases, tearing up the carpet, bashing holes into the drywall with a hammer, and tossing valuable paintings to the floor.] COOK: Say, Griffin, is this place like the house you had when you were the Cotton King of the South? You know, before you were thrown in prison and your wife became a streetwalker. Huh? [Griffin goes into his legendary "slow burn" routine.] COOK: Remember that, Griffin? When you were the Cotton King of the South and then you went to prison and your wife had to sell her body on the streets? Huh? Remember? GRIFFIN: [enraged] That does it, Cook. [Griffin charges at Cook like a bull elephant and begings throttling him by the neck.] GRIFFIN: I'm gonna crush your esophagus and cut of the supply of oxygen to your brain! [Canned laughter.] [The throttling goes on for a few seconds, then Griffin suddenly stops and dumps Cook to the floor. He walks away, disgusted. A pause.] LANDIS: So, uh, you never answered his question, Griffin. Is this like the house you had before you got thrown in prison and your wife became a prostitute or what? [Griffin rolls his eyes, long-suffering. He's just about to attack Landis when Cadworthy the butler enters. He looks around at the now-demolished entrance hall.] CADWORTHY: Ah, you three gentlemen must be the exterminators I spoke to this morning. Thank goodness you've arrived. I see you've already started working. Good. However, I must ask you to keep the noise down. You see, we happen to be entertaining some rather prominent... [Griffin has heard enough. He brains Cadworthy with a lead pipe. The butler's wound starts spewing forth gallons of stage blood. Cadworthy staggers around the stage, getting blood everywhere.] COOK: [still hoarse] You sure taught him a lesson! LANDIS: Yeah. He seems to be hemorrhaging pretty badly. [Sound: laughter and applause as if this is a beloved catchphrase.] CADWORTHY: [weak from blood loss] That's the last time I hire an exterminator from the yellow pages... [He collapses.] LANDIS: Uh-oh. Looks like we've got ANOTHER body to dispose of. COOK: That's the eighth one just today. GRIFFIN: Quick, let's hide him under the carpet. [Cook and Landis pick the butler up by his head and feet. Just then, we hear the voice of Mrs. Vanderthorpe and her GUESTS from offstage.] VANDERTHORPE: It's simply been lovely having you over for tea. MALE GUEST: You've been a most charming hostess. FEMALE GUEST: Yes, we must do this again sometime. VANDERTHORPE: You're both too kind. Please, let me show you to the door. It's right this... [Vanderthorpe and her two guests enter just as the three drifters are trying to stuff the body of the butler underneath the carpet. There's blood everywhere. The female guest faints dead away, and the male guest dives through one of the picture windows a la the Cowardly Lion. Mrs. Vanderthorpe is furious.] VANDERTHORPE: Gentlemen! What is the meaning of this? I hired you to get rid of my termites, not kill my butler and demolish my home. I've got a good mind to call the police. LANDIS: Please, lady, don't do that. COOK: Yeah. There's a perfectly good explanation for this. VANDERTHORPE: And what is that, exactly? COOK & LANDIS: [both pointing at Griffin] HE DID IT! [They, too, dive out the window.] VANDERTHORPE: Well, well, well. It looks like YOU'LL have to face the music. Now, I might be persuaded NOT to call the police if you do a little favor for me. GRIFFIN: A favor? What kind of favor? VANDERTHORPE: I want you to... marry my daughter. [calling] Oh, Jacqueline! Come here! It's looks like I've found you a husband! [JACQUELINE bounds into the room. "She" is obviously a burly, homely man dressed in drag and wearing a ridiculous wig.] JACQUELINE: A husband? Oh boy, oh boy! [Jacqueline makes a bee-line for Griffin. Griffin tries to jump out the picture window, but he's too heavy to make it. He just sort of hangs over the windowsill, his legs still inside the house.] JACQUELINE: Uh-uh. You're not gettin' away THAT easy, loverboy! [Jacqueline grabs by the waist and drags him off. We hear a bit of the "Wedding March" over the theater's sound system.] VANDERTHORPE: [wiping away a tear] Ah, young love. [Sound: canned laughter and applause.] [The lights dim. There's a pause. Then, JACQUELINE briefly re-enters the stage and removes "her" wig.] JACQUELINE: I'm Cherokee Jack! ["She" exits.] [More canned laughter and applause as the curtain falls. Instrumental reprise of minor-key "Three Blind Mice."] [THE END]