fandomhigh | School Auditorium: Auditions, beginning Noonish.

Perform for the Principal!

In the sense of talking to him. Not in the sense of sticking listening devices on him.

Gossip and chit-chat? Do that here.

What? WHAT?

*sings* Iiiiii am the very model of a Cylon human replica....

Pippi comes in wearing the dress she wore to the dance last night.

"King Lear," she says, "Act 2, scene 2..."

"Fellow I know thee... I know thee for
A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a
base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited,
hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a
lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson,
glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue;
one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a
bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but
the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar,
and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I
will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest
the least syllable of thy addition.

What a brazen-faced varlet art thou, to deny thou
knowest me! Is it two days since I tripped up
thy heels, and beat thee before the king? Draw, you
rogue: for, though it be night, yet the moon
shines; I'll make a sop o' the moonshine of you:
draw, you whoreson cullionly barber-monger, draw.

Draw, you rascal: you come with letters against the
king; and take Vanity the puppet's part against the
royalty of her father: draw, you rogue, or I'll so
carbonado your shanks: draw, you rascal; come your ways. "

Pippi curtsies sweetly.

Slooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooow Plaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!

GodDAMMIT that was a waste of a perfectly good mouthful of coffee. *shakes fist at you*

[[ooc: If this monologue looks like a long list of just insults; you would, in fact, be correct. Pippi's performance can be described as "angry yet charmingly sassy". Or not. Whatever.

Pippi sings a sea shanty...

"I say, old man, your horse is dead.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
I say, old man, your horse is dead.
Oh! Poor old Man!

One month a rotten life we've led.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While you lay on y'er feather bed.
Oh! Poor old Man!

But now th' month is up, ol' turk.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
Get up, ye swine, an' look for work.
Oh! Poor old Man!

Get up, ye swine, an' look for graft.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While we lays on an' yanks ye aft.
Oh! Poor old Man!

An' yanks ye aft t' th' cabin door.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
An' hopes we'll ne-ver see ye more.
Oh! Poor old Man!

"Thanks Pippi!" Dewey gives a double thumbs-up. "You've definitely given an excellent audition. Awesome."

*snerk* *snort* *laughs* *dies*

Figuring she had no other ideas of what to audition with for the show, Nadia went with what Artie had suggested.

"This from a play called," she peered at her notes. "'Dentity Crisis by Christopher Durang."

When I was eight years old, someone brought me to this... theatre. Full of lots of other children. We were supposed to be watching a production of "Peter Pan." And I remember that something seemed terribly wrong with the whole production. Odd things kept happening. For instance, when the children would fly, the ropes they were on would just keep breaking ... and the actors would come thumping to the ground and they had to be carried off by stagehands. And there seemed to be an unlimited supply of understudies, to take their places, and then they'd just fall to the ground. And then the crocodile that chases Captain Hook, seemed to be a real crocodile, it wasn't an actor. And at one point it fell off the stage and crushed a couple of kids in the front row. And then some of the understudies came and took their places in the audience. And from scene to scene, Wendy just seemed to get fatter and fatter until finally by the end of act one she was completely immobile and they had to move her off stage with a cart.
You remember how in the second act Tinkerbell drinks some poison that peter is about to drink in order to save him? And then Peter turns to the audience and he says that "Tinkerbell is going to die because not enough people believe in fairies. But if all of you clap your hands real hard to show that you do believe in fairies, maybe she won't die." So, we all started to clap. I clapped so long and so hard that my palms hurt and they even started to bleed I clapped so hard. Then suddenly the actress playing peter pan turned to the audience and she said, "That wasn't enough. You did not clap hard enough. Tinkerbell is dead." And then we all started to cry. The actress stomped off stage and refused to continue with the production. They finally had to lower the curtain. The ushers had to come help us out of the aisles and into the street. I don't think that any of us were ever the same after that experience. It certainly turned me against theatre. And even more damagingly, I think it's warped my total sense of life. I mean nothing seems worth trying if Tinkerbell is just going to die.

Really, the sunglasses and slight hangover (Artie knows the best hangover cures, they just take a little while) only add to the realism of her performance as a complete whack-job pretending to be perfectly normal and sane.

Unfortunately her song, while pretty much entirely appropriate for the show they're supposed to be doing, is not in her key and doesn't work perfectly without actual backup music. She goes for it anyway.

Are you crazy, man?
You didn't notice her?
You must be blind
It's all I do now
Just think about how
She will be mine

I couldn't stand up
I couldn't sit down
One look at her and I stumble around

One look at her
I get irrational
She ties my tongue
I saw her downtown
On a cloudy day
She brought the sun
She's not a part of the scene
She don't socialize
She does her own thing
She's ahead of her time
Just the right speed
She is staggering

I couldn't stand up
I couldn't sit down
One look at her and I stumble around
She is staggering
She is staggering

She's uncommonly heavenly
She is so rare
She's beautiful, exceptional
She doesn't care

I couldn't stand up
I couldn't sit down
One look at her and I stumble around
I couldn't get to sleep
And then I couldn't eat
She's all that I want
She is all that I need
She is staggering
She is staggering
She is staggering
She is staggering

Not the most melifluous or performances, but even Simon would probably admit that it was "not horrible" and Randy would probably label it as being "just okay, to me, dawg".

Paula would have loved it, though.

Shep stands on the stage trying to look like he owns it, but he may just look like he is very well aware that he may be making a huge ass of himself - but really doesn't care too much.

To show that he actually knows something about musicals (and because the song kind of fits him better than he wants to admit) he sings Fyiero's part of "Dancing Through Life" from Wicked.

FIYERO
The trouble with school is
They always try to teach the wrong lesson
Believe me, I've been kicked out
Of enough of them to know
They want you to become less callow
Less shallow
But I say: why invite stress in?
Stop studying strife
And learn to live "the unexamined life":

Dancing through life
Skimming the surface
Gliding where turf is smooth
Life's more painless
For the brainless
Why think too hard?
When it's so soothing
Dancing through life
No need to tough it
When you can sluff it off as I do
Nothing matters
But knowing nothing matters
It's just life
So keep dancing through

Dancing through life
Swaying and sweeping
And always keeping cool
Life is fraught-less
When you're thoughtless
Those who don't try
Never look foolish
Dancing through life
Mindless and careless
Make sure you're where less
Trouble is rife
Woes are fleeting
Blows are glancing
When you're dancing
Through life:

Han gets up and recites the Prologue from "The Rise and Fall of Estari Organa, Third Undersecretary of the Office." Then he launches into the baritone aria that starts it.

Anyone not familiar with Alderaani Opera is welcome to fall asleep.

For his dramatic interpretation, Shep recites the end of Edgar Allen Poe's "The Tell-Tale Heart".

I smiled, — for what had I to fear? I bade the gentlemen welcome. The shriek, I said, was my own in a dream. The old man, I mentioned, was absent in the country. I took my visiters all over the house. I bade them search — search well. I led them, at length, to his chamber. I showed them his treasures, secure, undisturbed. In the enthusiasm of my confidence, I brought chairs into the room, and desired them here to rest from their fatigues; while I myself, in the wild audacity of my perfect triumph, placed my own seat upon the very spot beneath which reposed the corpse of the victim.

The officers were satisfied. My manner had convinced them. I was singularly at ease. They sat, and, while I answered cheerily, they chatted of familiar things. But, ere long, I felt myself getting pale and wished them gone. [column 2:] My head ached, and I fancied a ringing in my ears: but still they sat and still chatted. The ringing became more distinct: I talked more freely, to get rid of the feeling; but it continued and gained definiteness — until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.

No doubt I now grew very pale; — but I talked more fluently, and with a heightened voice. Yet the sound increased — and what could I do? It was a low, dull, quick sound — much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I gasped for breath — and yet the officers heard it not. I talked more quickly — more vehemently; — but the noise steadily increased. I arose, and argued about trifles, in a high key and with violent gesticulations; — but the noise steadily increased. Why would they not be gone? I paced the floor to and fro, with heavy strides, as if excited to fury by the observations of the men; — but the noise steadily increased. Oh God! what could I do? I foamed — I raved — I swore! I swung the chair upon which I had sat, and grated it upon the boards; — but the noise arose over all and continually increased. It grew louder — louder — louder! And still the men chatted pleasantly, and smiled. Was it possible they heard not? Almighty God! — no, no! They heard! — they suspected! — they knew! — they were making a mockery of my horror! — this I thought, and this I think. But anything was better than this agony! Anything was more tolerable than this derision! I could bear those hypocritical smiles no longer! I felt that I must scream or die! — and now — again! — hark! louder! louder! louder! louder! —

"Villains!" I shrieked, "dissemble no more! I admit the deed! — tear up the planks! — here, here! — it is the beating of his hideous heart!"

Shep is on his knees, beating on the stage at the end... seems he got a little caught up in the part.

Hastily buttoning his shirt, 'Xander' walked on to the stage. He stared at the audience. "Um. I'm going to read a bit from Oedipus Rex. Yeah. Ahem."

'Xander' held his hand out (resembling a certain Danish prince), and began;

"Sirrah, what mak'st thou here? Dost thou presume
To approach my doors, thou brazen-faced rogue,
My murderer and the filcher of my crown?
Come, answer this, didst thou detect in me
Some touch of cowardice or witlessness,
That made thee undertake this enterprise?
I seemed forsooth too simple to perceive
The serpent stealing on me in the dark,
Or else too weak to scotch it when I saw.
This thou art witless seeking to possess
Without a following or friends the crown,
A prize that followers and wealth must win."

I'm animal and vegetable and just a little silica...

Quinn? Actually doesn't suck. Don't be surprised she's good at drama.

O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name;
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,
And I'll no longer be a Capulet.
'Tis but thy name that is my enemy;
Thou art thyself, though not a Montague.
What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot,
Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part
Belonging to a man. O, be some other name!
What's in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd,
Retain that dear perfection which he owes
Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name,
And for that name which is no part of thee
Take all myself.

[C&P'ed the right thing this time, dammit]

'Xander' gave the audience (that is, Dewey) an uncertain look as he ended it. He wasn't sure if that had been horrible enough. Oh well, this would certainly do it...

"Okay, now I'm going to sing a song I've made especially for today. It's called Angel's Lament (http://s36.yousendit.com/d.aspx?id=06ODOC3Q1ZPLU0VW3W367PON4P) and is about one of my best friends. I hope you enjoy!"

He took a deep breath, and started singing.

"I'm really unsure...if I'm a vampire
Before I take a drink...I wonder should I be biting her
When you kill my friends out in the pale moon light
I wonder, am I a creature of the night

How'm I gonna eat, when the sun rises this morning
How'm I gonna eat, when your blood's sucked dry
How'm I gonna eat, when my teeth grow long and pointy
Are rats all I'll need when I'm hungary, how'm I gonna eat.

Where you used to stab all the vampires backs
...They'd disappear into ash
A fetish that I can't ignore
...Like wood stakes in your dresser drawers.
And the hours that you spend working out and kick boxing
Make me wish that...we were necking

How'm I gonna eat, when the sun rises this morning
How'm I gonna eat, when your blood's sucked dry
How'm I gonna eat, when my teeth grow long and pointy
Are rats all I'll need when I'm hungary, how'm I gonna eat."

(Angel's Lament (http://www.thebards.net/music/lyrics/Angels_Lament.shtml))

She's not a professional singer, either, but no one's going to cover their ears screaming or anything like that.

I feel pretty,
Oh, so pretty,
I feel pretty and witty and bright!
And I pity
Any girl who isn't me tonight.

I feel charming,
Oh, so charming
It's alarming how charming I feel!
And so pretty
That I hardly can believe I'm real.

See the pretty girl in that mirror there:
Who can that attractive girl be?
Such a pretty face,
Such a pretty dress,
Such a pretty smile,
Such a pretty me!

I feel stunning
And entrancing,
Feel like running and dancing for joy,
For I'm loved
By a pretty wonderful boy!

Which of course is a total lie. As all the boys at Fandom High are gay. Except for the Mountie. Who's so much more than a boy...

"Awesome job," Dewey says. "Thanks for the auditionage, Nadia!"

Dewey stares for a second after Shep finishes his performance.

"Wow, that was some... definite emotion. Wow." Dewey applauds a little. "Thanks , John."

Dewey pays attention to the whole performance, and at the end looks suitably impressed.

"Thanks, Han. Don't suppose you got any of that stuff on tape, do ya?"

School Auditorium: Auditions, beginning Noonish.

Audition: Act and Sing!

Bug Dewey!

Talk Amongst Yourselves!

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