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CLUE: The Scottish Mario Play/Act II Scene 2

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[Invernegg Castle, royal bed chambers. DUNCZILLA, DONALBLUE, and MCDALCOLM are asleep on inflatable matresses. Enter EDOFENRIR.]

EDOFENRIR:
What a horrible night to have a curse! [Materializes staff] Ah, how pathetic you muggles are. Fussing around your bothersome day, building things and fighting wars that you all know don’t really matter in the end. “Bruce Wayne?” A fittingly disgusting, meaningless name for a disgusting, meaningless businessman. How little you all know our witchly customs, and how little you all care. Maybe if you had given us a break, just one day of rest in centuries upon centuries of persecution and bloodshed, my brothers and I would not have to come to this. But no, you’re too prejudiced, too small-minded and afraid of the broader implications of recognizing witchcraft as anything but baloney.

[Raises staff to strike DUNCZILLA]

Well, everybody is equal before death. Eventually everyone, old, young, rich, poor, witch, muggle, will perish someday. I merely speed up the process for those who deserve it. My brothers may be playing a “harmless” little prank to scare away the Scots, but I see it as retribution against a tyrant who led crimes against us too terrible to mention. It’s judgement day, and King Kaiju is the first participant! With this blow we sow the seeds of revolution, and may the future fall ever into our-HURK!

[LADY MACJAV opens the door, smashing EDO in the face and knocking him unconscious.]

LADY MACJAV:
Ha! The drunks hardly needed any prompting to take the booze. They’re out so cold you can’t tell if they’re alive or dead. The owl, the fatal bellman, shrieked at midnight. Now’s my chance to strike. [Notices EDO] Oh, I suppose that’s the fatal bellman who shrieked. Don’t know how he got there. I’ll put him out in the trash with the dead clown from last week once I get the chance.

[LADY MACJAV moves next to DUNCZILLA’s matress]

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr, snore.

LADY MACJAV:
The attempt and not the deed confounds us. In modern words, to get caught now would be career suicide. Luckily everyone’s sound asleep, I’ve just got to make sure I don’t make a–

[DUNCZILLA rolls over in his sleep, and crushes LADY MACJAV’s wing.]

GYAAAAH! I meant SOOOUUND, gyaaaah’s not a word. Oh my, did I just scream twice? And I’ve dropped my knife somewhere, it must have rolled away! If the princes woke up, I’m done for!

[MCDALCOLM and DONALBLUE, being heavy sleepers, remain dormant.]

Well, lucky me. But I’m pinned beneath ten thousand tonnes of radioactive lizard flesh without my weapon. Eh, could be worse. At least he uses deodorant.

[Enter MACJAV]

MACJAV:
Stop lounging with the stranger in bed and get up! You were supposed to stab the king already.

LADY MACJAV:
You seriously think I’m down here under my own volition? My wing’s broken. I fell and I couldn’t get up. Did you not hear the scream?

MACJAV:
Sounds like you need Life Alert. I did not realize you were getting senile.

LADY MACJAV:
Har har. Don’t talk so loudly, you’ll wake the princes up and I don’t want our friends thinking I’m a senior citizen. Take your bloody sword and smite him already.

MACJAV:
But you are so much closer. You are right under his back, why don’t you stab him there?

LADY MACJAV:
It rolled to the most inaccessible corner of the room. Your javelin is the only weapon we have.

MACJAV:
You are pathetic, you know that? You always do this. You spend all this time to get me to do something tremendously dangerous but you do not hold up your end of the bargain. I am the one with the moral code, and you know I have been deliberating this action for quite some time, and we agreed you would handle the murder and I would take care of covering your tracks. Then you pull some stunt like this, I do not care if it was an accident or not–

LADY MACJAV:
–My Poochy, shut up and make a decision already! I’m losing blood circulation!

MACJAV:
Fine. How about I roll him off of you. Then you can grab your dagger and do the honors.

LADY MACJAV:
Great. Make it snappy.

[EDO wakes up from his comatose state and, frustrated that the couple beat him to the kill, casts nightmares upon the princes.]

DONALBLUE:
[Asleep] I sleep no more! My sleep hath been murdered! The terrible images that flash before my closed eyes, I cannot bear!

MCDALCOLM:
[Asleep] I had complete trust in our host our sleep would not be ruptured in the middle of the night! Glamushroom has murdered my sleep, and therefore Fireflowdor shall sleep no more.

DONALBLUE:
[Asleep] Sleep no more! MacJav shall sleep no more!

LADY MACJAV:
Well, that strategy was a failure. With the ruckus they’re making, they’re We have to time to free me. You have a weapon in hand, kill him and we can make our getaway!

[MACJAV drives his, well, javelin, into the king’s heart.]

MACJAV:
I have done the deed. Forgive me, old friend. May Poochy have mercy on your soul. Now, let’s go. I mean, let’s go. Um–

LADY MACJAV:
The brothers’ nightmares appear to have dissipated. I hope nobody heard them. We’ll make our way back to the room

MACJAV:
But that last sentence, just there? I said “let’s”. That is clearly a contraction. I haven’t said a contraction since grade school. See, I did it again! Why can I pronounce contractions now?

LADY MACJAV:
Lots of people use contractions, you were just particular like that. I’m sure it’s just the nerves. Consider it not so deeply, you’ll just go mad.

MACJAV:
I hope so. Contractions are weird. Why would you connect two already short words when they work just fine alone?

LADY MACJAV:
Forget about it. Go wash your hands in the bedroom, and I’ll plant the bloody javelin with the guards. The king is gone, you have nothing to fear anymore. What is he going to do, come back from the grave for payback? He’s just a memory now, all that’s left is a painting on the wall of Dunsinabbit. How childish is it to be afraid of paintings.

[Exit MACJAV and LADY MACJAV.]

[Later that night, in the bedroom. MACJAV is staring himself in the mirror above the sink. Enter LADY MACJAV. Knocking sounds.]

MACJAV:
How I hate contractions. Please don’t let this foul condition remain. Oh sweet Poochy, I did it again!

LADY MACJAV:
Honestly, get over yourself. You’re having a midlife crisis about apostrophes for crying out loud.

MACJAV:
But it is a curse! I cannot shake the guilt I feel for being responsible for the death of one of my closest friends. I mean, he was a terrible king, but that does not deserve the death penalty. I am a murderer, a cold-blooded murderer, and not even the whole ocean will wash out the stain my action has left behind.

LADY MACJAV:
You are weak to think such things. You made a decision, and you stuck by it. There’s no shame in that. My wings are your hands’ color, but I would be ashamed to have a heart so pure.

[Knocking.]

What is that knocking sound? I suppose Lolcrawler has awoken from his drink-induced slumber and is walking around in a cockeyed stupor again. It’s okay. A little water will clear our hands, and a cast will heal my wing. We’re in the home stretch, just act natural.

[Knocking.]

That blasted knocking! Does he have no decency? Get thee to bed, MacJav, in case he or someone else visits before morning. I’ll corral the bum.

[Exit LADY MACJAV]

MACJAV:
I would prefer not know myself than recollect my heinous crime. I’ll sleep like Dunczilla ‘till dawn, the knocks won’t wake him one last time. Screw rhyming, too.

[Exit MACJAV.]


[DEATH TALLY: 2 (Dunczilla)]