by Bill Bohannon, 2-4-04

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NOTES: Our heroes, Publius, Furianus and Deep Quote finally arrive at Polyestes Correctas' bathroom window(s). The sky behind is red with the fires that George Augustus Caesar II's Army of Aggies has let get out of control once more. The fires are spreading across the entire city of Rome.

PUBLIUS (gazing up at Polyestes' condo): Those beith very high windows! How can we reach them?

DEEP QUOTE: "A true man rises to all occasions!"

FURIANUS (shouting and running toward a nearby wall): Hey look, guys! There's a bunch of barrels stackethed over here by this wall. Help me rollith a few over, and we'll use them to standith upon!

PUBLIUS: Hey, keepith it quiet, man. You know there isn't any glass in those windows!

FURIANUS: Oh yeah, sorry, I forgetith. Wouldn't want to disruptus the lovebirds! Here, grab this barrel.

PUBLIUS (breathing heavily from stacking the barrels, then drinking from the wine sack and passing it around): We're gonna need two each to reachith the windows. Hey, these don't stackith too well. This beith pretty wobbly! Wo-o-o-ah! (climbing up the barrels) Hey, do I hearith grunting?

Each of our heroes climbs up to the top of two or three barrels and finds a window to peer through.

PUBLIUS: WOW! Check out the "Janet Jacksons" on Polyestes Correctas! Venus be praised! (He pulls out a joint from under his toga, and lights it.)

FURIANUS: !Ejole! Bet THOSE caguamas are stuffed!

DEEP QUOTE: "Dr. Livingston, I presume."

FURIANUS: Silence! Our Fearless Leader speakith with the woman I adore! Hey, throw me that wine sack!
Deep Quote pitches him the wine sack.

Polyestes and George II are sitting in Polyestes' large Roman bath, filled to the brim with the obligatory soap bubbles. Each is presumably nude (except George II, of course, still has his ten-gallon cowboy hat on). We see them only from the waist up ("R" rating).
Our boys all lean into their individual windows to hear POLYESTES say: Oh mine Fantastically Furry Fuhrer, my Majestic WrongEndof TheRainbow, what big ... eyes thou havith! Oh my!!

GEORGE AUGUSTUS II: The better to seize you with, my dear. Say, this here water's a tad chilly. Why don't we snuggle closer and churn it up some, ta see if we can get it real nice n' hot?

POLYESTES: Great idea, Oh Noblest of Monkey Men! But first, a toast ... ( She raises her glass high in the air.)

OUTSIDE: Publius looks very faint, and begins to wobble around on top of his stack of barrels.

INSIDE: George II just stares straight at her, drooling more than ever.
POLYESTES: A toast to the "Glory that was Greece, The Grandure That Was Rome and The Gluttony That Was Texas!" (She flamboyantly locks arms with George II, and they both bring their glasses to their mouths.)

GEORGE II (looking at his drink sceptically): Say, wait a minute, Honey. How come mine's all green and bubbly and your is sorta yellow, and quiet-like?

POYLESTES (looking down to check herself out): What is? Where?

GEORGE II: Tha drink, Darlin'. The drink.

POYLESTES: Oh, oh ... your drink? Why, why Your Imperial AskNotForWhom
TheWildGooseDefecates ..., sometimes, on rare occasions, when held by a TRULY macho, always thinking with the other ( also the larger, in this case) brain-type man, this drink bubbleth, and turneth to emeralds, or even, maybe gold, or possibly natural gas, sometimes!

GEORGE II (looking smug and completely convinced): Oh well hell, OK, then! THAT makes sense! (He takes a long drink.)

OUTSIDE: FURIANUS (taking a big gulp of wine from the sack): I can't BELIEVE that fool's drinkin' that shit! He MUST have heard about Happy Clean Mind Drink from SOMEBODY, by now! If he were anybody but the biggest dickhead that Texas ever produced, I'd actually warn that sorry son of a bitch not to drink that stuff!

DEEP QUOTE: "The Prime Dir-r-r-rective, Captain! Remember the Prime Dir-r-r-r-r-rective!"
(After a pause, he adds:) "The bigger HER mammaries, the smaller HIS memory."

PUBLIUS: Hey, throw me the wine and a dubbie!

INSIDE: GEORGE II (licking his lips): Hey Sweetheart, this shit's pretty good!

POYLESTES: Well, bottoms up then, my Cap-i-tan!
They both start to take deep drinks when suddenly, out from under George II's ten- gallon hat, appears (what's left of) the wrinkled, deformed body of none other than John Ashcroft! He's dressed only in a loincloth. He's very small, stooped, filthy, smelly and ancient-looking. He has almost no hair nor teeth. He looks like he's been through hell!
He sits perched atop George II's head, his eyes bugging out.
John Ashcroft grabs the drink from GEORGE II's hand, smells it, makes a face and holds the glass in his gnarled claw-like hand, slowly rotating it. He scowles angrily at the astonished Polyestes.

POLYESTES (to John Aschroft): WHO and WHAT the fuck are YOU?!

JOHN ASCROFT (slowly, as if coming to from a long sleep): Doth not the pretty one with large beachballs on her chest, not remember poor, old John Ashcroft? Doth thee not recognize the handiwork of thy Happy Clean Green Drinkie-poo, here ( he puts the end of a long index finger on the side of the glass and slowly rolls his bulging eyes at her), that your evildoer cohort, Ramus Erectus (Ashcroft spits after speaking Ramus' name), threw on poor, honest John Ashcroft, those many years ago?

You remember, that horrible man, doth thee not? Horrible man, Ramus Erectus! Ramus Erectus HURT poor Ashcroft! Make poor Ashcroft sick-e-poo! Ashcroft spend long, painful time in hospital with gall bladder-assholus inflamadus maximo sickness! Ver-r-r-r-ry deadly! Doctors had to remove all Ashcroft's gall bladder and also all of everybody else's constitutional rights!

But, evil Ramus Erectus only THROW evil green, nasty drink on John Ashcroft. Ashcroft NO DRINK nasty geen slime, like rest of fools! Horrible green slime drink only DEFORM and DEMENT poor Ashcroft. People think poor John Ashcroft dead. Ashcroft loose hair. Rogaine no help. Ashcroft become small and deformed. Look at poor Ashcroft! Ashscroft's teeth fall out!

But, Ascroft survive! Ascroft escape! ' Live in Mordor, eat dingleberries (pe-e-e-u-u-u-u-u!) to survive. But, Ashcroft surviveth! Come back to get Prec-c-c-c-c-c-cious, so Ashcroft can recover! Ashcroft MUST HAVE Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious!

Ashcroft come back to Middle Earth. Ashcroft find this very same dumb cowboy, under this very same hat, in Texas, out on lone prairie. Dumb shitkicker cowboy looking for oil, under rocks. This stupid cowpoke (puting his index finger on George II's skull), lift one rock, then other rock, then other rock No luck. No oil. This is REALLY dumb cowboy, here (pushing his finger down hard on the skull of the drooling George II, who from the even-more-vacant look on his face, is beginning to feel the effects of the mind-numbing/memory-erasing/demasculating Clean Green Happy Mind Drink).

But, old John Ashcroft NOT DUMB. Ashcroft take stump-jumper cowchimp, here, to Austin, to see Karl all his ducks in a Rove. Ashcroft put spell on this Nazi, Karl Rove person, but Karl Rove not know. Convince Karl all his ducks in a Rove to show shit-for-brains cowpoke, here, to Cheney the Weak Link, Rummy the Rapest and other nice folks at Enronus and Halliburtus, down in Houston. They LIKE drooling-cowboy!

They make him George Augustus Caesar II! Tell him he's George Orange Julius Caesar I's ONLY son! Say he's puro Number Two! But, they leave Ashcroft to control and take care of "drooling banjos", here. You know, like Jimminy Cricket. Smart Ashcroft make drooling Chimpboy to go look in Mid East for my Prec-c-c-c-c-c-cious! Ashcroft MUST have Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious!

POLYESTES (Totally astonished at the night's strange twists): He-e-e-e's not George Orange Julius I's real son? He surely has certain unforgettable physical similarities. I mean he's hung like a ...

ASHCROFT: No dummy, he's just from Texas. They're all the same.
You MUST NOT hurt Georgie II Shit-for-brains! Ashcroft MUST HAVE "Stupid-Is-As-Stupid-(Always)-Does" Georgie, so Ashcroft can find Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious! You, evil witch with exploding kasugas, LEAVE Ashcroft's Goatboy ALONE!

OUTSIDE: FURIANUS (to Publius): Don't Bogartus that joint, Bro. Passith that joint and the wine around!
The wine and joint gets passed around.

INSIDE: POYLESTES: Sure, Mr. Ashcroft, sir. He's really not my type, anyway. But, John ... May I call you John?

ASHROFT: NO, you may NOT call me John, blimpgirl! NO ONE but my dear Mother called me that ...

POYLESTES: OK, OK, Mr. Ashcroft, Sir, what IS this "Precious" that you keep looking for?

ASHCROFT: MY Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious? MY Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious? WHAT IS my Prec-c-cious? John Ashcroft KNOW what my Prec-c-c-c-c-cious is, and Ashcroft know WHERE to find it! John Ashcroft find it MANY times, with help of doughbrain boy, here (He points down again at George II, who's eyes are beginning to cross. George II is smilling and drooling from both sides of his mouth now.).

Each time poor Ashcroft have my Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious with me, John Ashcroft feel WELL, HAPPY, YOUNG! John Ashcroft don't want to bug telephones, get inside people's personal computers, and take away everybody's freedoms NO MORE! John Ashcroft happy-go-lucky, normal guy again! ' Even like girls!

POLYESTES: Let's get you some more of your Precious, RIGHT AWAY, then! Where IS it? Where can we FIND it?

OUTSIDE: DEEP QUOTE (clearing his throat): "No wine before it's time ...(?)."
Furianus pitches him the wine and a fresh joint.

INSIDE: ASHCROFT: Silly, stupid, brainless girl! Don't you KNOW-W-W-W? Don't you KNOW what Prec-c-c-c-c-c-cious is, by NOW-W-W-W-W? Don't you KNOW WHY we repeatedly invade the Mid East to find Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious? Why we KILL so many silly little brown people with towels on head every month, to get Ashcroft's Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious?

POLYESTES: My gods, it's the virgin olive oil that the 67 virgin blonde Hooties collect from the virgin olive oil plantations, over there in the Mid East, isn't it?! That's why Dumbo, here, wants to bring back and enslave all those virgin, blonde Hooties, and not let them greet the dead Islamic warriors, when they get up there to Heaven! He wants the Hooties to wear torn white T-shirts and tiny orange gym shorts, and work in some stupid orange and white bar and grill named "Hootie's", right?

ASHCROFT: You got it, Sister! You're brighter than you look! Ashcroft make Georgie THINK he want virgin olive oil and Hooties, and want to go into restaurant business. Ascroft need TONS of Prec-c-c-c-c-c-c-cious virgin olive oil to pour on his body, and to drink by liters. Virgin olive oil make John Ashcroft whole, happy man again! Prec-c-c-c-c-c-cious is ONLY ANTIDOTE to that nasty, EVIL Happy Clean Mind Drink, that YOU inventith, evil witch Sister!

POYESTES: Gee, but there's an FDIC warning on the label ... (Ashcroft glares even harder at Polyestes.) Listen, Mr. Ashcroft, Sir (Polyestes bats her eyes), I've got a little massage oil, in the bedroom. Maybe we could go in the bedroom, and I could ...

Suddenly, Ashcroft looks down and notices that George II is comatose. George II's eyes have rolled to the back of his head, and he now simply smiles, giggles and drools.
ASHCROFT (to George II): Georgie Boy, Georgie Boy, WAKE UP! WAKE UP! (Ashcroft slaps him several times.) Talk to me, Georgie! Talk to your tru-u-u-ue friend, Ashycroft! Georgie! Georgie ... Georgie, wake up (Ashcroft begins to cry, and pound on George II's head.) ...
Slowly, Ashcroft turns a gaze of hatred toward Polyestes, who's slowly backing up in the bath tub and getting ready to make a run for it.
ASHCROFT: You-u-u-u, wicked witch, evildoer harlot! YOU HURT GEORGIE! You make Georgie into vegetable!

POLYESTES: Uh ... looks like, maybe, a large zucchini, from here, right ...? Look, Mr. Ashcroft, maybe it's not all that bad ... ' Must have been really hot, living under that hat, and all ... no? Yes? No? Shit ...
Polyestes is out of the bath, and making a dash for it, with Ashcroft right behind her, the green, bubbling drink still in his tightly clutched claw-like hand. He's obviously aiming to kill her. George II is laying face up in the bath, smiling, giggling and blowing bubbles.

OUTSIDE: PUBLIUS (drunk and stoned): Holy shit, guys! We've GOT to SAVE Polyestes!
In his haste, Publius begins to wobble on top of the barrels, and finally falls backwards, pulling Furianus, who's trying to grab him, with him. Both of them and their stacks of barreles come crashing down, all rolling down the hillside.

DEEP QUOTE (still on top of his stack of barrels): "The Pr-r-r-rime Dir-r-r-r-rective has been adhear-r-r-r-red to, Captain!"

Polyestes makes it through several bedrooms, the kitchen, another bathroom, the servants quarters (where the startled maid is watching "Christina" on SPQR TV) and into the living room. She's headed for the front door in nothing but her black panties ("R" rating, remember),
At that moment, Cleo, the cat decides to walk out in front of her. Polyestes trips over Cleo, and Ashcroft tackles her. She hits the white marble floor HARD. She's semi-knocked out. Ashcroft rolls her (moaning) over slowly, crawls on top of her, and begins to slowly poor the Green Clean Happy Mind Drink down her throat.

OUTSIDE: PUBLIUS (from the bottom of the hill, getting up after the long roll down the hill): Quick lads, we must savith Polyestes! Oh, my head throbith mightily ( He grabs his forehead with both hands)!

FURIANUS (helping Publius up): He SPEAKITH TRUE! WE MUST SAVE THIS FAIR DAMSEL! ONWARD AND UPWARD GALIANT MEN! FOLLOW ME!
As Deep Quote pauses momentarily, lost in thought (due to the cosmic depth and complexity of the Prime Directive and it's application to the situation at hand, no doubt), our heroes make a new stack of barrels,which also falls over and rolls down the hill. They try again, and succeed this time. Publius and Furianus climb the stack of barrels, and somehow hurl themselves through a window and into the bathroom, right on top of the "bubbling", happy George II, still in the bath tub, as that stack of barrels goes flying down the hill again. Deep Quote also climbs in his window after them. George II keeps on smiling happily, not feeling a thing.

LIVING ROOM: ASHCROFT (sitting on top of the incapacitated Polyestes Correctas, and pouring the Clean Green Happy Mind Drink into her mouth): Now, you female executive evildoer, you shall taste the curse of your own evil concoction! (He pours ALL the remainder of the drink down her throat. She slowly gets the same vacant, happy stare on her face as we just saw on George II's).
Suddenly, Ashcroft stops, getting a puzzled look on his face. He covers his mouth with his hand, and asks himself: But HOW can this be? Tis said that this green mind drink effects only MEN! How could it have such an effect on this evil woman?

At that moment, Ramus Erectus kicks open the door (we see the bright red sky of Rome behind him), rushes in and seizes Ascroft by the throat. He grabs the empty glass from Ashcroft. He glances at the glass. Seeing that it's empty, he smashes it to the floor. RAMUS ERECTUS (holding Ashcroft at arm's length, and yelling at him): You blasted little shit-devil, from what lost corner of Hell, or worse, hath thee reemerged? How could thee be thus alive and breathing, when I, with my own hand, once smote you like a chicken-fried steak?

ASHCROFT (rolling his eyes at Ramus Erectus, and attempting to smile): Oh, just lu-u-ucky, I guess. My, you're looking fit, Ramus!

Ramus hurls Ashcroft against the marble wall. Ashcroft, knocked silly, slides slowly down the wall. Ramus Erectus turns to gaze upon his long-time secret love, Polyestes Correctas. With tears swelling in his eyes, he picks her limp body up. Pressing her to his manly chest, RAMUS ERECTUS crys: TOO LATE! Too late to save thee, oh most beautiful of damsels, most hauntingly lovely of all maidens! Pride of Olympus Augmentationes! Ye, oh wonder of wonders! Better than ANYTHING Bill Clinton ever got HIS fat hands on!
SPEAK! SPEAK, oh woman of my dreams! SPEAK so that the stones can hear thee, so that the Aggies will stop raping and pillaging for five seconds, and listen to the beauty of thy lyrical voice. Speak so that ye can, at last, tell me of your great, hidden love for ME, your avenger that stands before you, bearing my soul to thee, oh great hot one!
Polyestes just continues to have that same "far away" happy gaze as George II (still in the bathtub) has on his face.

PUBLIUS (sliding abruptly into the living room [on the now ever-expanding soap suds]): Whoa Dude, what acting! Wow, man, I've, like, been a major fan of yours for years, but ... WOW! That was awesome, man!

DEEP QUOTE (sliding slowly, and 'cooly' in, doobie in his mouth, while checking out the whole scene): "Bitch didn't pay da rent."

FURIANUS (sliding in on his butt): Wow! Is she ... dead? Oh, shit! BUMMER, man!

RAMUS ERECTUS (to Publius): Really, was the acting OK ... good? Don't you think that I, well, I maybe overdid it a little?

PUBLIUS and FURIANUS: Naw! Naw, uh uh, no way, man! You were awesome! Right on the mark! Great performance! Oscar, THIS TIME, for sure!

PUBLIUS: You've got the looks, the stately manner and the vibrato of Charlton Heston, Sir, with the depth, the soul and the delivery of Michael Moore. Hollywood will go fuckin-n-n' NUTS! No five second delay for YOU! NO WAY! Here, can you sign this?

RAMUS ERECTUS (feeling proud of himself, while signing the napkin that Publius thrusts into his hand): You really think so, eh? ' Wouldn't it be better if we ran through it again? ' Course that would be kinda hard to do, with Polyestes all goo-goo, and everything; and, with Ashcroft all splattered against the wall like that, and all. Too bad I couldn't have caught a taxi sooner! But, there were just none available, with this bloody fire again, and everything going on. Too bad about Polyestes, such a terrible waste!

FURIANUS (checking out Polyestes, and shaking his head): Yeah man, you can say THAT again! What a fine lady! Just LOOK at that! My, my, my! Wow, man! What a waste!

PUBLIUS: Well, uh ... excuse me, but is THIS the end of this play, then? Everybody's either dead or catatonic.

RAMUS ERECTUS: Well, yes. Basically, it's the end of the play, exceptith for the epilog, of course.

PUBLIUS: Epilog? W-W-What beith an Epilog?

RAMUS ERECTUS (first stretching, then throwing Polyestes over his shoulder): Epilog? Well that's this short, little part at the end of the play, when the remaining heroes from the play ... That would be you guys (pointing at the three young men) get together, often some time later, and talk about the meaning of the play, the meaning of life, what they learned during the play etc. Then they kinda tie up all the loose ends and stuff from the play, you know.

PUBLIUS: A summation? A "romantic" ending, kinda, where everything's calm and maketh sense again?

RAMUS ERECTUS (heading out the door with Polyestes on his shoulder): Damn Aggies! Burned the whole damn town down, this time!
Yeah kid, that's it, kinda a summation. You'll see. Hey, Deep Quote, got the last word for THIS act?

DEEP QUOTE: "All's well that ends well (?)."

They all head out the door into the burning city, leaving Ashcroft splattered against the wall, and George II happily grinning, face up, in the bathtub. The maid comes out from her room, looks around at the mess, scratches her head and waddles back into her room.

(c) 2004 Bill Bohannon all rights reserved