24 - a cliche-riddled ROUGH ROUGH draft of CLOWNTOPIA

10.1.06
An ACTUAL parking lot. The audience arrives and is guided by ushers, who go out of their way to be friendly and accommodating. Eventually, when the entire audience arrives, they are made to wait for five to ten minutes. During this time, the ushers reassure the audience, and mention slight technical “irregularities.” They make comments about how “these sorts of things do not always go as planned” and “if you wanted something unconventional, you got it” etc. They might also talk about previous “incidents” they have been involved in, and how this experience is “by far the safest so far.” One of the ushers becomes angry and frustrated, and decides to go back to “HQ” to figure it out. While this usher leaves, another usher nervously addresses the audience:

USHER
Right, well, if I might have your attention, please, please can I have your attention. Ok. Well, my colleague is heading back to HQ to find out what the matter is. It shouldn’t be more than a few moments. I again apologize for the inconvenience, the experience should commence shortly. Thanks again, and I’m sorry.

After addressing the audience, the remaining ushers whisper to each other, and act surprised and saddened by what they’ve heard. They leak to the audience (although they “aren’t supposed to”) that there has been an “incident with the car” and that tonight’s performance might be cancelled. When asked what the performance was going to be, they say that “they shouldn’t spoil the surprise” and that it “had a lot of potential.” They say other test audiences in other countries “got the full effect, and it was wonderful” and that “it was something really special.” One usher, the lone dissenter, secretly intimates to everyone that “it wasn’t that great” and that they “prefer the more straightforward” kind of thing. From the beginning, they have been referring to people involved in the program as “clowns.” As the event progresses, this agitator becomes increasingly outspoken as to their discontent with the project. Finally the usher returns from “HQ” looking dejected and a bit shaken up. After speaking with several other ushers, usher from HQ addresses the growing concern among the crowd.

HQ USHER
Ok, so I’ve just gotten back from HQ, and I’m afraid that through negligence on our part tonight’s event cannot go any further. I’m afraid that some necessities have been neglected, and that as a result several participants have been gravely wounded. They will be in our prayers as I hope they are in yours, and we only hope that-

MALCONTENT USHER
That’s it, now you guys have done it.

HQ USHER
We only hope that they are back on their feet-

MALCONTENT USHER
Ok, ok, no, why don’t you just tell them the truth, right? Ok? This was never safe-

USHER
Shut up, _____, knock it off!

MALCONTENT USHER
No, I said this would happen all through tech didn’t I?

HQ USHER
ALRIGHT, LETS JUST ESCORT THESE PEOPLE BACK, SHALL WE? THANK YOU. Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please just follow the ushers back to HQ, we will fully refund you for your time, thank you for your patience and goodnight.

The ushers begin to escort everyone back the “HQ” while arguing about the feasibility and safety of the program as planned. They refer back to “incidents” in the past and times when “nothing went right” and the malcontent starts calling everyone a bunch of “clowns” including members of the audience. Somewhere between this and the return back to “HQ” various bloodied clowns writhe on the ground. Some are clearly dead. Others are not so lucky. The ushers do not notice at all, even when audience members point out the wounded clowns to them. The degree of gore and the number of bloodied clowns increases as the audience nears “HQ.” The only usher who acknowledges that the clowns exist at all is the malcontent, but that the clowns are “less important.” “The bigger issue” according the malcontent is that “these guys screwed up” and that it’s “all their fault.” The malcontent continues on this diatribe until, moments before everyone reaches “HQ,” a team of “kidnappers” violently pie and steal the malcontent. As the audience cross the entrance to “HQ” they are greeted by “the General” who sports a red nose. “HQ” has been bombed out since the audience last set foot within. The ushers become “Soldiers” after everyone has entered, and the General addresses the audience:

THE GENERAL
Greetings everyone. I apologize in advance for the extenuating circumstances. Do we have everyone here? Did we do a headcount?

A SOLDIER
Yes, sir. All here and accounted for, sir.

THE GENERAL
Excellent. I’m sure you’re all looking for an explanation. Unfortunately our evidence is classified at the moment, and I will not be sharing it with you until I hear otherwise. Needless to say, we are reasonably safe where we are at this moment. Now, it is my duty to inform you that you are all under arrest. The charges are classified, so don’t ask.

Distant small bombs are heard lightly from outside. Occasionally a scream or a clown laugh accompanies. The General continues.

THE GENERAL
If you all cooperate as asked, we will have you processed and questioned swiftly. Those who do not comply will be punished just as quickly. Now, who came here together? Raise your hands. Raise your hands and point to the people you arrived with.

A SOLDIER
RAISE YOUR HANDS, MIMES! RAISE THEM UP!

When people raise their hands and indicate who they are with, they are separated indiscriminately. While this takes place:

THE GENERAL
I want even groups. Squeakers on one side, potential mimes on the other. If you traveled with a mime, but are not a mime yourself, report your mime immediately. Mime sympathizers will not be tolerated, but pardons are available for those who aid in the war effort. Clowns, I apologize, we’ll have this all sorted out soon enough.

A SOLDIER
WE’VE GOT ONE! WE GOT A MIME, SIR!

A member of the audience has been a mime all along! The Mime is dragged out in front of the General, while the soldiers shout epithets at the Mime. The General silences them in an instant.

THE GENERAL
Now, see what I mean? They’re everywhere. Yeah, yeah. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a mime. The most hated breed of scum the planet has ever known. Don’t feel bad for this one. Their white faces and painted teardrops are all a show. We just had a whole convoy of clown cars blown up by these mute bastards. You know how many clowns to a clown car? Ten. You know how many clown cars to a convoy? Fifty. Five hundred clowns. Half of them are dead. The other half wish they were. They don’t have emotions, feelings. It’s all painted on. Beneath are the most vicious and vile terrorists you’ve ever known. ANY MORE AMONG YOU? ANY MORE? What about you, Mime? You see any of your friends in the crowd? ANYBODY YOU KNOW? Figures I’d get the silent treatment from this one. Maybe you won’t be so quiet if we put you in THE BOX!

The soldiers chant “BOX BOX BOX BOX” as the Mime cowers in fear. The General cracks an imaginary whip at the Mime. Another soldier throws an imaginary rock. The Mime is clearly in pain, but remains silent. The General quells the violence.

THE GENERAL
Are you gonna talk? WHERE ARE YOUR FRIENDS? There must be more of you. ARE YOU GOING TO TALK? Where are your friends. WHERE ARE YOUR FRIENDS?

The Mime becomes defiant.

THE GENERAL
Bring out the box.

The soldiers chant again as two bring out an imaginary box. They place it beside the Mime and forcibly display how “small” and “hard” it is. One soldier squirts the Mime with a trick flower.

THE GENERAL
One last chance. Talk now or you get the box.
Not gonna talk?
PUT THE MIME IN THE BOX!

The soldiers “put the box” on top of the Mime, who silently screams while trying to escape in vain.

THE GENERAL
They hate the box. HATE IT. Look at it squirm. Maybe this one is a bit too small. Any of you out there a mime? A mime sympathizer? I hope not. For your sake. LIFT THE BOX!

The soldiers “lift the box” and “tie a rope” around the Mime’s neck. One soldier “carries a weight” over to the Mime and “drops it” on the Mime’s foot. The soldiers then force the Mime to “pick up the weight” and they “pull the Mime by the neck” out of “HQ.”

A SOLDIER
What methods of interrogation would you like sir?

THE GENERAL
We’re not getting anything out of that one. Still, see if you can’t loose its tongue.

A SOLDIER
YES SIR!

The soldier exits and the General begins to pace. Every few steps in front of the “suspected mimes” he stops and smiles.

THE GENERAL
Like pies, any of you? How about daisies? Rainbows? Funny pants?

Screams from outside. The bombs get a bit closer.

THE GENERAL
It’s talking now. Any of you want to make it easier on yourselves? We could paint a smile on your face. Make you one of us. Squeak your nose. It makes me a sad clown when you people refuse. It makes me a sad, sad crying clown when you don’t talk.

A soldier enters with a bloody tongue wrapped in a funny handkerchief. The General holds it up for all to see.

THE GENERAL
THIS IS WHAT WE DO TO MIMES HERE. THIS IS WHAT WE DO TO MIME SYMPATHIZERS? Don’t want to talk? You’ll never speak again. Want a better life? Then SPEAK UP FOR YOURSELVES! The situation is simpler than-

AN ENORMOUS BOMB WRECKS “HQ.” The lights cut out. After the cataclysm ends, there are a few moments of silence, followed by coughs. Two soldiers move in the dark.

CAPTAIN WAMMY
…floppy? Floppy are you there? Floppy is that you?

FLOPPY
…I’m here…I’m hurt bad…

CAPTAIN WAMMY
…is Wigglebottom near you? Is Wigglebottom ok?

FLOPPY
I thought you were Wigglebottom…

CAPTAIN WAMMY
No, this is Captain Wammy…WIGGLEBOTTOM? WIGGLEBOTTOM, ARE YOU OK? …Floppy, what happened?

FLOPPY
Helium bomb. Must have been friendly fire. Captain Wammy, I’m hurt bad…I don’t think I’m going to make it…My nose is missing…

CAPTAIN WAMMY
I can’t move, Floppy. Floppy, I think my legs are gone. I can’t feel my big shoes…

FLOPPY
…I’m bleeeeeding…

CAPTAIN WAMMY
…Floppy…Floppy, I got to tell you something…

FLOPPY
…What is it, Captain…?

CAPTAIN WAMMY
…I…I…I never thought you were funny…

FLOPPY
…I’m dying! I’m lying here dying and you tell me that? I should…I…*

CAPTAIN WAMMY
I’m sorry…I’m sorry, I just had to get it off my chest. I was tired of keeping up the front…tired of the painted smile and all the lies…I never liked you Floppy…I don’t care if it’s the last thing you’ll ever hear. I always thought you were as laughy as a bag full of weasels…do you hear me Floppy? Floppy? … You still there? FLOPPY! … FLOPPY! …WIGGLEBOTTOM? …lucky bastards…lucky smiley-faced bastards. I always knew I would die alone. Damned General with his “plans.” Damned war. DAMNED MIMES*

Captain Wammy coughs chokes and slowly dies. Ten moments of silence. The lights slowly come up to reveal a massacre of clowns, bloodied, pied and ruined by war with the Mimes. All lie motionless. Nothing is said. Spooky, zany organ music pipes in. Mimes enter with appetizer trays and shots of whiskey, which they sell to the audience. They never speak. None of the cast speaks. The dead remain dead until the last audience member has left.