===================================================================== EVERYTHING YOU ALWAYS WANTED TO KNOW ABOUT THE INCREDIBLY STRANGE CREATURES (BUT WERE SO MIXED UP YOU FORGOT TO ASK) ===================================================================== a one-act play by Joe Blevins (joeblev@concentric.net) ===================================================================== based on the movie "The Incredibly Strange Creatures Who Stopped Living and Became Mixed-Up Zombies" ===================================================================== [Curtain rises to reveal dungeon set: moss-covered stone walls lit with torches. Various unchained inmates mill around -- most dumpy-looking men with tattered clothes and hideous acid scars on their faces. We will refer to these folks as "zombies." Some are standing, some are seated on the floor, and one is huddled in the corner playing "Clementine" on the harmonica. At center stage are: an OLDER ZOMBIE who looks like he's been here a while and a youngish zombie who seems to be a GREENHORN. The faint sound of calliope music is heard in the background.] OLDER ZOMBIE: So how'd you wind up in here? GREENHORN: Well, I was a Jehovah's Witness, and I tried to give the gypsy fortune teller a copy of "Watchtower." [The older zombie shakes his head.] OLDER ZOMBIE: Yeah, Madam Estrella gets a lot of her zombies that way. Cliffs's a Jehovah's Witness, too. [The older zombie points to another zombie. That zombie, CLIFF, waves back.] MAN IN OVERALLS: I just came here to read the meter. GIRL SCOUT: I was trying to sell Thin Mints for Troop 19. RANDOM ZOMBIE: I wanted directions to the Tilt-a-Whirl. OLDER ZOMBIE: Yeah, we've all got our tales to tell. But don't worry. You'll get used to it here after a while. The food is surprisingly good. RANDOM ZOMBIE: Say what you will about his hygiene, but that Ortega sure can make delicious flan. MAN IN OVERALLS: Not to mention the miracles he can work with a can of Vienna Sausages. GREENHORN: Ortega? OLDER ZOMBIE: Oh, you must remember Ortega! The gypsy fortune teller's sidekick... malformed, bad posture, lots of facial hair? GREENHORN: Oh, that guy. I thought he was Madam Estrella's husband. [The other zombies scoff at this.] GREENHORN: What? What did I say? OLDER ZOMBIE: Well, uh... let's just say Ortega isn't the "marrying kind," if you know what I mean. MAN IN OVERALLS: No woman will ever tame him. Or have him spayed. RANDOM ZOMBIE: But truth be told, I've never been kidnapped, imprisoned, and tortured by a nicer guy. [All the zombies mutter in agreement.] GIRL SCOUT: Ortega reads me "Uncle Wiggly" stories and gives me gingerbread. MAN IN OVERALLS: He did my tax return and got me a substantial refund. OLDER ZOMBIE: When I had an ear infection, Ortega stayed by my side every minute and sang me to sleep. WOMAN ZOMBIE: He introduced me to the world of French new wave cinema. HARMONICA PLAYER: He gave me this harmonica. GREENHORN: But... how do you reconcile this kindness with the acid-throwing and the imprisonment and the horrendous BO? It just doesn't add up. OLDER ZOMBIE: What can I say? Ortega's an enigma. GIRL SCOUT: Yeah, it's kinda hard to explain. GREENHORN: Well, could you try? MAN IN OVERALLS: Hmmmmmm. Maybe we should put it like this... [Music begins. The zombies (except Greenhorn) break into song.] MAN IN OVERALLS: He drinks his pee. He's got V.D. His trousers have a stain. WOMAN ZOMBIE: He drools saliva down his beard And beats us with a chain. OLDER ZOMBIE: And right there on his nightstand Is a picture of Ed Gein. HARMONICA PLAYER: I've even seen him flirting with the carnies. RANDOM ZOMBIE: He's always late for "lockdown." OLDER ZOMBIE: But his vicious threats are real. MAN IN OVERALLS: He leaves his droppings everywhere. WOMAN ZOMBIE: But, boy, can he cook veal. HARMONICA PLAYER: He'd whip me if I told him, But I very firmly feel... ALL ZOMBIES: ORTEGA'S NOT AN ASSET TO THE GYPSY! GIRL SCOUT: I'd like to say a word about him, please. Ortega makes me... sneeze. OLDER ZOMBIE: How do you solve a problem like Ortega? How do you trap a sweatstain in a box? How do you find a phrase that means "Ortega"? GIRL SCOUT: A bad case of rickets? MAN IN OVERALLS: A bucket of pus? OLDER ZOMBIE: A pox! ALL ZOMBIES: Many's the time you wish someone would bathe him. Many's the time he should be sprayed for fleas. GIRL SCOUT: But he'll never sit or stay. HARMONICA PLAYER: You'll never make him obey. WOMAN ZOMBIE: I'll bet he's simply swimming with disease. ALL ZOMBIES: Oh, how do you solve a problem like Ortega? OLDER ZOMBIE: How do you make a rabid squirrel say please? WOMAN ZOMBIE: When I'm near him, I get hives. He's so dangerous with knives, And I think he's spying on us while we sleep. MAN IN OVERALLS: He once kept me on a tether. RANDOM ZOMBIE: Plus I hear he's into leather. WOMAN ZOMBIE: He's a sicko. GIRL SCOUT: He's a pervert. OLDER ZOMBIE: He's a creep. WOMAN ZOMBIE: He can out-stink any skunk. He gets nasty when he's drunk. MAN IN OVERALLS: He goes through a case of whiskey every week. RANDOM ZOMBIE: He's a sinner and a saint. GIRL SCOUT: He can drink a can of paint. CLIFF: He's a loner. HARMONICA PLAYER: He's a rebel. OLDER ZOMBIE: He's a freak. ALL ZOMBIES: How do you solve a riddle like Ortega? How do you keep an oil slick in a box? How do you coin a term that means "Ortega"? GIRL SCOUT: A viral infection! CLIFF: A prickly rash! OLDER ZOMBIE: A pox! ALL ZOMBIES: Many's the time you wish someone would bathe him. Many's the time he should be sprayed for fleas. GIRL SCOUT: But he'll never sit or stay. RANDOM ZOMBIE: You'll never make him obey. OLDER ZOMBIE: I'll bet Ortega's got each known disease. ALL ZOMBIES: Oh, how do you solve a problem like Ortega? How do you make a rabid... squirrel say "please"? [Song ends. The Greenhorn is impressed.] GREENHORN: Wow, this Ortega sounds like quite a guy. MAN IN OVERALLS: He is. He really is. OLDER ZOMBIE: You'll get to see him soon. He's leading our "pilates" class at 4:30. RANDOM ZOMBIE: And he promised he'd help me with my model airplane tonight. [Just then, we hear the voices of MADAM ESTRELLA and ORTEGA from offstage.] ESTRELLA: Let's see how you like living with my other little pets, you feeeelthy peeeeg. ORTEGA: Unhhhgggrrrhggghghhh! CLIFF: Sounds like they've got another one. MAN IN OVERALLS: Hey, "The more, the merrier," I always say. [A brand-new zombie, JERRY, is pushed onto the stage into the dungeon. He wears a blue hooded sweatshirt, and his fresh acid burns are still smoking. Jerry falls to the floor, then looks around at his new surroundings.] JERRY: Wha...? Where am I? OLDER ZOMBIE: Relax. The worst is over. You're among friends now. JERRY: My... my face! It's burning! GREENHORN: Oh, don't worry. That goes away after a few minutes. OLDER ZOMBIE: Somebody get the calamine lotion for our new friend! RANDOM ZOMBIE: Okay. [The random zombie exits, presumably to get the calamine lotion.] JERRY: [sniffs] Is that gingerbread I smell? OLDER ZOMBIE: [chuckling warmly] I think he's going to be all right! [The actors freeze in place as the stage lights are dimmed. A vaguely Charlton Heston-ish NARRATOR steps onto the stage, holding an oversized storybook from which he reads.] NARRATOR: And so Jerry found a new home among the hideously disfigured zombies, and together they had the best Christmas ever. [pause] Until they escaped and went on a murderous rampage, killing everyone in their path. Meanwhile, Jerry's weird foreign friend, Harold, and his girlfriend's wimpy brother, Madison, went on to form the popular musical duo The Sparks, enjoying several years of chart success. Nighty-night, you filthy pigs! [Narrator closes the storybook and exits as we hear a few bars of a swingin' surf rock rendition of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."] [THE END]