by Bill Bohannon, 12-20-03

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Act I | Act II | Act III | Act IV

NOTES: The sound of a hundred trumpets is heard, heralding the arrival of Emperor George W. Caesar Augutus II and his entourage, to the Roman Senate Chamber.

CHORUS: Hail Caesar, full of grace! Please let us get outta this place! Hail Caesar, full of grace! Please let us get outta this place! Hail Caesar ... etc.

A thousand flag bearers carrying banners with S.P.Q.R. crossed out and K.B.R. spray- painted in, enter the great hall.

Caesar Agustus II, Conga Lizza the Rice, Rummy the Rapist, Collin the Token Pal, and assorted generals, wonks, and other henchlings, followed by the press, burst through the great doors of the Senate Hall (Vice-Emperor Cheney the Weak Link is notably missing, as usual). They mount the stage.

All the Senators cheer and applaud. Huevas Rancheras barks and growls. The band, Devo, strikes up a NEW SONG they've written especially for the occasion: "Shock and Awe". It sounds just like the last one.

Emperor George Caesar Augustus II, happily waving at the throng, is clad in a gleaming white toga and white ten gallon hat, which is about two sizes too big. He has a smirk on his face that only an emperor or an idiot could wear. On his shoulders are pilot's epaulets. He has numerous large metals, including a Bronze Star, pinned to his chest.

Senators Bruce, Daschle, and Erectus, along with Polyestes Correctas and her dog, Huevas Rancheras, and many other dignitaries are waiting for them on stage. Senator Bruce steps up to the mike, motioning for the crowd to quiet down. After much hooping and hollering (they're pretty sloshed by now), they finally begin to respect his wishes. The band begins to follow Senator Bruce's lead.
SENATOR BRUCE (He's pretty drunk, too.): It was thirty years ago, today. Ronald Reagan taught the gang to "play". They been goin' in and out of vogue. Still, they're guaranteed to still be hogs! (cheering from the GOP) So, let me introduce to you, the act you've known for all these years: George the Second, and the Armaggedon Gang! Take it away, you big bad emperor!

GEORGE AUGUSTUS II (into his mike): Uh-h-h... it's wonderful to be here! It's certainly a thrill! You're such a lovely audience! We'd love to take you home with us. We'd love ta take you home...(George II's eyes start to wander, as he spots the beautiful Polyestes Correctas for the first time, on the stage near him). He's immediately drawn to her.
(to Collin the Token Pal) Collin, Collin, 'ol Pal, who IS that there lovely thing in tha black leather outfit, over there with that nasty-lookin' dog?

COLLIN THE TOKEN PAL: Mr. Emperor, Sir, I would advise you NOT to mess with that lady. She beith Polyestes Correctas, the founder of the Political Correctus Movement, and the leader of what little is left of the liberal faction, in the Senate. We've had several agents on her, for years now. Sir, I'm afraid she's a TOTAL evildoer, and is suspected of having links to both Barbara Streisand AND Rosey O'Donald.

GEORGE II: Holy shit, man! A donut gobbler! What's she doin' here? And what's that bear-thing she's got on tha leash?

COLLIN THE TOKEN PAL: I knowith not why she is here, Sir. She's a Senatora Emeritas, and therefore, unfortunately, (still) hath the right to be here, in the Senate Chamber. But, quite frankly, I don't know why she would come, today, except for some devious, anti-Roman purpose.

GEORGE II: Maybe she just wanted ta see what a REAL emperor looks like. Should ah show her ma metals? Boy, she's got a fine ass!

CONGA LIZZA THE RICE (stepping up, obviously getting a little jealous): I would advise you, Your Omnipotence, not to get NEAR that dog. That horrid beast waitith only for a man, any man, to cometh close enough so that she might removeth those appendages that maketh a man a man, and an emperor an immortal. You know, like you are, Sire.

GEORGE II: What tha hell's Conga Lizza talkin' about THIS time, Collin? I swear, ah don't understand half a' what she says!

COLLIN THE TOKEN PAL: Sigh... What she's saying, Sir, it that if you get near that bitch, you're going to end up being more like a steer, than a bull.

GEORGE II: Ah ain't no bovine! What you talkin' 'bout?

COLLIN THE TOKEN PAL: Oh for gods' sakes!
He leans over, and begins to whisper in George II's ear. George II gets an astonished look on his face. His hat flops back.
Collin the Token Pal, with a disgusted look on his face, begins fading back into the crowd.

Polyestes Correctas sees what's happening, and starts to make her way toward Emperor George II's side, leaving Huevas Rancheras, untethered, to gaze hopefully out into the crowd, for a new victim. As she moves toward George II's group, she encounters Senator Bruce carrying a large covered serving tray.

POLYESTES CORRECTAS: What you gotith in the turkey tray, Brucie?

SENATOR BRUCE (nervous in front of his idol): Oh these, these just beith... beith some croissants, eclairs and cajeta quiche squares that my Mama in the South of France sent me for a special occasion. And well, this IS a MOMENTOUS occasion! The only trouble is that I hear that Emperor George II won't touch ANYTHING French.

POLYESTES: You know, Brucie, sadly I hearith that too. But, you know... Listen, why don't you giveth ME that tray? I'll bet I can get him to eatith some!

SENATOR BRUCE: Oh gosh, WOULD you, Ms. Correctas? I'll bet he'll eatith ANYTHING YOU givith him!

POLYESTES: That's the plan, Bruce. That's the plan.
Polestes grabs the tray from Senator Bruce, and maneuvers her way through the crowd, until she is very close to the Emperor.
POLYESTES: Croissants, eclairs, Mama's quiche! Croissants, eclairs, Mama's quiche! Croi...

RUMMY THE RAPEST: George The Second doesn't eat quiche. Young lady, you'll have to move...

GEORGE II: What seems ta be tha problem here, Rumsfeldus? Who beith this beautifully decked-out young damsel?
Rummy the Rapist rolls his eyes, and, knowingly, backs off.

POLYESTES (extending her hand to George II): Allow me to introduce myself, Your Imperial Wherewithall. I'm a woman of wealth and fame. I beith Polyestes Correctas, Senatora Emeritas, here today to welcome you to our humble Senate Chambers, gaming casino, and licensed massage parlor.

George II takes her gloved hand. We can see the glow in his eye.
GEORGE II: Careful, Darlin', don't drop that tray! What ya got in there, anyway?

POLYESTES (removing her hand to remove the lid from the tray, with a flair): Why, naught but deliciously naughty, homemade Gaulic goodies, Your Magnificent Notallthereness. They were sent here by Senator Bruce's Mother for YOUR personal consumption.

GEORGE II (slapping his knee): My "personal consumption"? Ma personal consumption?! Why that's what ah told the Judge up in Amarillo! It wuz ALL for my own personal consumption. Haw, haw! What's ya got here, Hun? Um, these 'uns look good enough to eat! Can ah try one o' them kind?

POYLESTES (smiling wickedly at George II): Why, Your Magnificent Throwbackedness, you're DEFINITELY on the right track! You can chow down on ANYTHING you want!

George II grabs four or five goodies, and shoves them all in his mouth at once, obviously enjoying the moment. He has chocolate eclair all over his face.
Rummy rolls his eyes again, shakes his head, and buries his face in his hand, to keep from laughing out loud.

GEORGE II: Um, um! Honey, that hit the spot!

POLYESTES: Not YET, you haven't. Have some more, Your Imperial Chunkfulofit. I'll bet you just don't EVER get a homecooked meal, cooked by a REAL woman's hand, do you, Mine Fuzzy Furer?

GEORGE II: Good Gosh, Honey, do ya COOK, too?

POLYESTES: I don't know, Darlin', I never looked. But I toss a mean salad! And, my kitchen's always open to emperors, and Yale graduates.

GEORGE II (grabbing a few more): How'd ya know ah went ta Yale?!

POLYESTES: Why, it's all over your face, Your Imperial Daddyleftthebest partonthesheet! And, I hearith that you spendith a year locked up in the dorm, in that mysterious Skull and Crossbones-thingamagig Club! That must have been REALLY HARD on you!
Polyestes presses her body against George II.

GEORGE II (grabbing more cookies, and looking faint): Well, it IS, ah, ah mean it wuz REALLY hard bein' locked up in tha dorm fer a whole year, and all! But, it really didn't have much to do with tha Skull and Bones Club. It, it wuz juz 'cause they locked me up in the dorm all tha time, for some reason. They wouldn't tell me why. Most times, they locked me up in tha bathroom. It really stunk!

POLYESTES: Oh, that must have been just AWFUL for you! You know, I have a big, green, Pine Sol-clean Roman bathroom, at MY place. It's large enough for an Imperial Wizard, like yourself. And, you know, I just LOVETH to COOK! When wilt thou droppest in?
She nuzzles his ear.

GEORGE II: How 'bout tonight?

CONGA LIZZA the RICE: Sire, Sire, you leavith in the early morn with Rumsfeldus the Rapist to "Bring Liberty and Democracy to Persia!".

GEORGE II: Huh? Ain't we already sacked that one yet? That's tha real mean one up there by Saxony, right?

CONGA LIZZA: No, Sire, that beith Prussia. Persia is the one just east of Mesopotamia.

GEORGE II: Mesepo-WHATia?

CONGA LIZZA: Remember, we changith the name of Mesopotamia to Iraq, so that it would fit on your Bronze Star, on your chest, there, Sire (she points at the metal), and so that there was a prayer that you could maybe remember the name? We "liberated" that one last spring.

GEORGE II: Ah shit! Well, tell 'em that they're gonna have ta wait ta get raped. 'Cause ah got somethin' else on ma plate right now.
He grabs some more quiche.

CONGA LIZZA the RICE: Sire, your Roman Legions, in full armor waitith by the gateth! They are ready to march! They be restless. They have not been paid, nor fed, in weeks. They growith weary, and needith to killith SOMETHING! They beith only normal, un-PC'ed Aggies!

GEORGE II (eating more goodies): Conga Lizza, why are ya always buggin' me with this "the Army needs to get paid, the Army needs to be clothed, - needs to be fed" bullshit? Screw 'em! Those idiots were dumb enough to sign up fer tha Army weren't they? Hell then, they'll wait till I'm damn READY ta pay 'em, and let 'em loose ta kill some more! Just tell 'em ta go attack tha University again. That'll give 'em some good practice on killin' and rapin' evildoers!
Reluctantly, Conga Lizza leaves to relay the orders to the waiting generals.
(to Polyestes) Missy, has anybody ever told you that you look juz like the Goddess Diana?

POLYESTES: Has anybody ever told you that you look just like Alfred E. Newman?

GEORGE II: Who's that? That name don't ring no bells.

POLYESTES: Why, he won the Nobel Prize for Literature!

GEORGE II: Well, ah guess that's why it don't ring NO BELLS, haw, haw!

POYESTES (aside): This poor man haveth not the brains that the gods giveth a vibrator!

SENATOR RAMUS ERECTUS (appearing finally): Polyestes, may I speekith with thee, alone?
(To George II) George Augustus, thou lookest well. How beith thou?

GEORGE II: Ramus, Ramus Erectus, 'ol buddy, how's it hangin? Where ya been keepin' yourself, lately? You've done missed every damn one of tha kick-ass Boots and Coots orgies we've been havin' at tha White Villa! What's been keepin' ya, Boy? Where ya been?

SENATOR ERECTUS: Oh, you knowith, ocupado, ocupado, ocupado! It's not easy being a Senator! I promise, we'll get together soon!
But, listen, George, can I borrow Polyestes for just a momentito? I promise I'll bringith this fair damsel right back.

GEORGE II: OK, "Erector", but don't do anything with her ah wouldn't do! And, hurry back too, ya hear!

SENATOR BRUCE (rushing up to George II): Your Highness, Your Highness, I saw! Thou eatith TWELVE of my Mama's confections! She'll be SO pleaseth! I can't wait to tell her!

GEORGE II (wiping some of the chocolate and whipped cream onto his toga): Ah et two of those goodies. They weren't bad.

SENATOR BRUCE: No, no, I distinctly SAW you eat TWELVE!

GEORGE II (getting angry at Bruce): Et tu, Brute!

RUMMY the RAPIST (seeing the potential problem brewing, and stepping in): Bruce, let me talk to you a minute, son.
He puts his arm around Senator Bruce's shoulder.

Listen, son, don't bug Georgie about how many cookies he eatith. You'll just make him upset, and, BELIEVE me, NONE of us wants to get Georgie upset! Between you and me, if you askith him how many little countries we've devastated this last year, he'll say two; or, how many toes he's got, he'll say two; or how big his IQ is, he'll say two [he might be right there].

Well, you get the picture. The poor guy tries! But, well, we're pretty sure that two is as high as he can actually countith. And, between us guys, that could really be the best damn thing ABOUT little Georgie. See, he thinkith that, since two is the highest number in the Universe, that HE'S the ULTIMATE Ceasar that we can have. And, as many billions and billions as me, Cheney the Weak Link, and everybody at Halliburtus and Enronus hath robbed from the Roman public these last three years; well honestly, Rome just can't TAKE another George Caesar, or even any more Halliburtus ripoffs, right now. It'll just collapse!

So, look, give the guy a break, and savith thy own neck in the process, OK?
Senator Bruce looks frightened, and backs away.

SENATOR DASCHLE (running up): The witches, the witches are ready to begin, all!

GEORGE II: Witches? What witches? Ah didn't order no damn witches. Ah don't LIKE witches!

SENATOR DASCHLE: Your Omnipotent I'llkissyourasstoo, in ALL these Greek tragedies, they ALWAYS haveth the Oracle come in, and give a bad report about what's going to happen, and how the Army's going to get decapitated, and how Oedipus is going to impregnatus his Mother, and all that kinda stuff. It's just part of the show, you knowith...

RUMMY the RAPIST: But, wait a minute, we aren't Greek, we're ROMANS...

DEVO, the band (standing up, suddenly): We are not Greek, we are PC...

SENATOR BRUCE (to Rummy): Too much acid.
Rummy shakes his head in agreement.

SENATOR DASCHLE: No, no, Your Immaculate Letmebendover! You'll be marching the army RIGHT PAST Mt.Olympus! You HAVE to pass it on the way to Persia. Big mountain in Greece, on the left, er... I mean the non-Right? You can't miss it! These girls play the famed Mt."O" Casino and Lodge all the time! Your Phenomenal Koolness, Sire, they even USED to play Texas!

GEORGE II: Well hell, it's all Greek to me (you knew THAT was coming)! OK then, bring 'em on, I guess! Where's that Poleyestes babe gone to anyway?

The lights dim. We hear an eerie drumroll. Smoke rises from center stage.

Off to the side, our heroes, Publius and Furianus have crept slowly up to where they now are listening, on the other side of the very column where Ramus Erectus and Polyestes Correctas are conjuring up their plans.

SENATOR RAMUS ERECTUS: Well, Polyestes, thou lookith as fit as ever.

POLYESTUS: You too, Ramus. It's been a while!

RAMUS ERECTUS: "Time flyith under ignorant dictators".

POLYESTES: Tell me about it! But, enough chit chat! We MUST seize THIS moment to rip Rome from the grip of this total pendejo, George II!

RAMUS ERECTUS: I hearith that you and Gymnasia the Endowedith beith an item, now.

POLYESTES: THAT Bitch? We lastith a month! I putith Huevas Rancheras on her!
No, no, "Ram-it", there beith no one for me now! I livith alone with Huevas, my doggie, and Cleo, my pussy cat, in my SoBe bungalow; watching as the waves lappith the shore.

But listen Ramus, we MUST speakith of the moment! I think that I haveth a new and better plan than our previous one, of asking the Senate to impeach George Augustus II today. I believeth I already have this little emperor-chimp eating from my hand! I can probably do more to save Rome from his further ruin than our first plan could accomplish. And, I can do it faster, easier, and with less bloodshed!

RAMUS ERECTUS: Yea verily, I seeith thee working thy ways with the poor fool. Thou hath not lost thy touch, Polyestes. Thou planneth to lure him back to your bungalow and slip your magic "Happy Green Clean Mind Drink" down his throat. Am I not correct?

POLYESTES: "An Emperor without balls is like a Liberal without a spine.", as the old adage goeth. After he drinkith, he shall lickith my... hand!

RAMUS: When wilt thou weaveth thy spell?

POLYESTES: This very night!

RAMUS: He shall surely not march on Persia at dawn! 'Tis a better plan. I shall tellith the others.

POYLESTES: That little twit won't be able to march to the bathroom, after I get through with him. Rome will be OURS!

RAMUS: I wantith not Rome! I want but to restore Liberity and Justice to the REPUBLIC of Rome, that we all rememberith from our youths, when John the Just, and Lyndon the Liberator ruleth; and Martin the Great Orator TRULY stirith the people! I want NOTHING more.

POYLESTES: We all havith our limitations of vision, I supposeth, Ramus.
Tell me, Ramus Erectus, how you, and you ALONE of all Roman men, escaped the diminishing, crippling powers of my "Happy Green Clean Mind Drink"? Few "men" in the whole Emipre, save Roberto Byrdus the Ancient, hath escaped! I hearith that you spitith it upon those statues that Ashcroft the Soothsayer covereth up.

RAMUS (stepping back to vanish into the dark): No, my dear Polyestes. I spitith mine on John Ashcroft, himself.
He vanishes. Polyestes, smilling wickedly, turns and returns to the stage.

PUBLIUS (from the other side of the same column): Ejole! We knowith more than the gods and the 9/11 Commision combineth! Oh, to be a fly on the wall of Polyestes Correctas' boudoir this night!

FURIANUS: Your wish beith my command, 'ol chum.

PUBLIUS: What sayith thee?!

FURIANAS: Remember thee, that huge bash that Kozlowski the Tyco Tyco threw on Sardinia? Remember, there were all those naked babes runnin' around?

PUBLIUS: Verily! I still haveith forty-two phone numbers from THAT party!

FURIANUS: Well, remember the guy that, every time you askith him a question, he would answer with a famous, meaningful quote?

PUBLIUS: Oh, you mean Deep Quote? Hey, how could anybody ever forget that dude? What a guy! You remember how we all got so loaded with him and that old band dude, Jimmy Buffett? Man, can THAT guy put it away! Kick ass party! Bet that cost the Tyconians a fuckin' fortune!
Hey, remember those chicks we met from out on the Appian Way? I got their number here, somewhere (feeling his toga for the phone number). The Appian Way's kinda near here! We gotta look those ladies up, dude!

FURIANUS: Those weren't ladies. Anyway, Deep Quote's in real estatus. He told me that night that he manages the ENTIRE gated community where Polyestes Correctas lives in her bungalow-villa! He can GET US IN, dude!

Suddenly, the sound and light show begins. There is tense, mysterious music, and pounding drums. From out of the smoke, which by now has engulfed the whole stage, a large boiling pot and three female silhouettes arise.

SENATOR DASCHLE (over the mike): Lady and Gentlemen, direct from the famed Mt."O" Casino and Lounge, atop beautiful, cloud-draped Mount Olympus, home of the Greco-Roman gods; may I presentith, for your total enjoyment and complete enlightenment, the original "Pep Girls", themselves: Emily, Martie, and Natalie. The Dixie Chiclets!
We hear a mixed reaction from the crowd. While some are whistling and applauding, most are hollering: "Not Again!" "Get Rid of Them!" Get the bitches off the stage!" etc.

There is a loud drum-roll. The Dixie Chiclets begin their mysterious act, predicting doom and gloom for the Roman army: i.e. how the army's going to get stuck in the quick-sands of Mesopotamia (Iraq), how the army's not going to get paid by the government, how the army's going to have to spend their OWN money on food, supplies, medical care, sleeping bags, burial etc., how they'll be burning up in the summer and freezing in the winter, how they aren't going to find those mythical Weapons Of Mass Delusion, and how they'll be forgotten by Rome, after a year or so.

They say that there IS'NT any virgin olive oil left in Turkey, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Turkmenistan, Iran etc., because there aren't any VIRGINS left in any of those sandtraps; because the ones that weren't already raped by Saddam Hussein's sons have since been raped by George Caesar I's sons.

They predict that Rome will go into a major recession/depression that will last for SEVENTY-FIVE years (This DID happen when Rome invaded Iraq. Also, Greece, Persia, Rome, Britian etc.; ALL got stuck in the "quick sands" of Iraq, earning Iraq the nickname: "Burial Place of Empires".). The Chiclets say there will be wide-spread suffering thoughout the Roman Homeland, and that there will be invasions from many terrorist groups, which the government will do NOTHING to prevent, as George II is focused solely on his virgin olive oil/Mid East conquests. They say that Rome will fall on it's face for the first time. They predict that the Marlins will win the World Series.

Of course, NOBODY'S listening to them, because everybody's heard their doom and gloom rhetoric a thousand times before; because the crowd's drunk as a skunk by now, and, therefore, couldn't care less; and because half the crowd is from Texas, and NOBODY from Texas has EVER listened to anything anybody else ever said, anyway.

On stage, we see Polyestes Correctas giving the leash that holds (we hope) Huevas Rancheras to Senator Bruce, who looks nervously at the huge dog. George II waits impatiently for her to finish.

Then, Emperor George II and Polyestes, arm in arm, leave the stage and slip out the side door, tailed closely by Publius and Furianus.

PUBLIUS (to Furianus): Is THAT all we're going to see of Ramus Erectus in this whole damn story? Like, he didn't have more than ten lines!

FURIANUS: Hey man, it's hard to trick those old, senile actors into making these cameo appearances! They say Charleton Heston spends his whole just day sitting around polishing his gun.

NOTES: The curtain falls. The party rolls on.

Click here for ACT I

(c) 2003 Bill Bohannon all rights reserved

__________

"We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
We wish you a Merry Christmas,
And a NEW President!"

Professor Bill