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CLUE: The Scottish Mario Play/Act I Scene 4-5

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Scene 4

[Dunsinabbit Castle. Trumpets flourish. Enter DUNCZILLA, MCDALCOLM, DONALBLUE, and attendants.]

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr? Rawr?

MCDALCOLM:
No, father, they have not yet returned. Please stop asking me every twelve seconds.

DONALBLUE:
But we have heard word that the execution has been done. The Thane of Fireflowdor confessed all his treasons against you, even that time he stole the last cookie at your birthday party two years ago.

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr!

MCDALCOLM:
The report says he died spectacularly. It was almost like he was practicing for it, rehearsed it so he could make it as memorable as possible. Like he was throwing away the thing he cherished the most as though it was careless rubbish. Huh, never thought that out of all the thanes in Scotland that old Fireflowdor would be the one to betray us. I had complete trust in him!

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr, rawr.

DONALBLUE:
Can you say anything other than "rawr", father?

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr.

[Enter MACJAV, BANQUOSHI, ROSS SHELL, and FRENNOX]

ROSS SHELL:
We're ba-ack! We won the battle! Everything's OK!

FRENNOX:
Well, everything except Captain Tabuu's digestive tract. He was close to death when we dropped him off at the hospital. But do not worry, we can rebuild him. We have the technology!

ROSS SHELL:
High-tech medical equipment in medieval Scotland? I don't know, that sounds a bit contra–

FRENNOX:
–Dictory? Yes, yes it is.

BANQUOSHI:
Don't forget the hundreds of soldiers who died on the battlefield, and the massive property damage in Pipe, plus we lost priceless pieces of fine art to enemy torches, and the traffic overpass in Glasgow will probably need some renovation, and–

ROSS SHELL:
Ix-nay the omplaining-cay in front of the ing-kay.

BANQUOSHI:
Sorry.

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr, rawr! Rawr rawr rawr, rawr rawr! Rawr rawr, rawr. Rawr!

MCDALCOLM:
Er, His Majesty cannot thank MacJav and company enough for the great service you have given Scotland. If you all deserved less, then perhaps his payment could have matched your deeds in proportion! For your bravery, we owe you more than we can ever repay.

MACJAV:
That is kind of you to say. But the service and loyalty I owe pays itself. You only need to accept my duties, and I will be satisfied.

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr. Rawr, rawr.

MCDALCOLM:
Indeed. Make well of your career as the new Thane of Fireflowdor. We have a complete trust in you.

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr! Rawr, rawr rawr. Rawr!

DONALBLUE:
And you, Banquoshi! There's no way we could forget you, either!

BANQUOSHI:
[Aside] They could've fooled me.

DONALBLUE:
You are no less deserving of thanks. We are considering renovating your castle as a gift, wouldn't you like that?

BANQUOSHI:
Oh, yes! Anything to get out of that dinky old shack in the woods!

[DUNCZILLA tears up in joy. DONALBLUE hands FRENNOX an envelope.]

FRENNOX:
Oh, the king has more good news! As we all know the king isn't exactly in his, er, "glory days" anymore. Thirty-seven, what a senior age! He therefore has officially decided upon an heir, whose name he has written inside this envelope. The lucky fellow who will inherit the kingdom is–

MACJAV:
[Aside] Oh boy! If the witches tell the truth, maybe my name will be the one inside that envelope! Oh, I never thought I'd be saying this, but let's hope for my sake that the applesauce does have the occult fortune telling abilities those witches claim!

FRENNOX:
–"Rawr"? His Destructiveness wrote down "Rawr"? What does that mean?

[DUNCZILLA whispers in FRENNOX's ear]

FRENNOX:
Ah, I see. The new Prince of Goombaland is his own son, Prince MCDalcolm! Honestly, who couldn't have seen this coming? Don't kings typically choose their first-born male child as their heir? That's usually how hereditary monarchies work. But His Scaliness won't let his children hog all the glory. New titles will shine like stars for the lot of you!

MACJAV:
It's just an honor to labor for you, King Dunczilla. I'll be sure to tell my wife the good news. So, if everybody doesn't mind, I'll be off?

MCDALCOLM:
Godspeed, worthy Thane of Fireflowdor!

DUNCZILLA:
Rawr!

MACJAV: [Aside] Blast, of course he chose MCDalcolm as Prince of Goombaland! Who could not have seen that coming? How could my pride have blinded me so? Well, if I really am to be king, I am going to have to be the heir at some point. That means something unfortunate would have to happen to MCDalcolm– oh, I shudder to think of the possibilities! May Poochy forgive me for my ambition! But if fate will truly have me king...

BANQUOSHI: Yo, Javvie. Don't blank out on me again. This is starting to scare me.

MCDALCOLM: Oh, he's probably just daydreaming. You know those "Walter Mitty" types.

BANQUOSHI: True, true. But still, I worry for him all the same.

MCDALCOLM: Banquoshi, MacJav is the most valiant man I've ever known. I have complete trust in him. Let's follow after him; Invernegg just had a new swimming pool installed and I want to try out the diving board. Humble, generous, loyal; MacJav is truly a peerless kinsman.

[Exuent. Trumpets flourish.]

Scene 5

[Castle Invernegg. Enter LADY MACJAV, with a letter]

LADY MACJAV:
"The sisters met us the day of the battle, and I presume they know more of the future than we morals ever can. They told us a few fortunes, but then MacJav intended to question them further, but they vanished. To my shock, they weren't complete bull: they predicted MacJav would become Thane of Fireflowdor, and the king gave him that title the same day! I think there's been something wrong with him since then. He hasn't been talking to me. Not that I'm not used to being ignored, but this time he seems upset with me for some reason. I think it might be because his other fortune was a royal one; according to the witches, he will become king in the near future. Anyway, have a nice day and please write back. No, seriously, please. No one's sent me a letter in months.

Sincerely, Banquoshi.

P.S.: I baked snickerdoodles for the party at Invernegg! There should be enough for everyone, at least if Donalblue can refrain from snacking on the way there."

[LADY MACJAV crumples up letter and shoots a trash can three-pointer]

I go away for one weekend on a snowboarding trip, and the whole goshdarn kingdom is invaded. And now, apparently, my husband hangs out with these... witches, and gets the nerve to plan a sleepover at our castle whenhe knows the castle's a mess! Thank goodness Banquoshi has no filter, or I'd have never known!

[FREAKWORLD, a servant, enters]

FREAKWORLD:
Madam, the king comes here tonight!

LADY MACJAV:
Looks like someone's slow on the uptake. Weren't you listening to Banquoshi's letter?

FREAKWORLD:
Yes, madam. I just like stating the obvious.

LADY MACJAV:
Well, don't. We have all the exposition we need, and it's annoying to hear the same thing over and over again.

FREAKWORLD:
Of course. Do you need me to prepare anything?

LADY MACJAV:
Everything. The castle's a mess. Get all the beds from the basement, tell the kitchen to prepare some non-alcoholic drinks and appetizers, and resume repairing that gaping hole in the south wall Dunczilla left the last time he slept over. It creates such a terrible draft.

FREAKWORLD:
Of course.

[Exit FREAKWORLD.]

LADY MACJAV:
So MacJav as king. He's that close in line? Huh, never gave it much thought. Well, Fireflowdor's one of the most important titles in the country. If Dunczilla were to die, and MCDalcolm were to flee—and both of them are coming here tonight—with only MacJav, Banquoshi, and some assorted guards as their protection—and we have a fully-stocked armory—yes, this could do nicely. Oh, Banquoshi, you glorious fool, that was just the ticket we needed! My husband would never agree to it, he's too much of a weak willed suck-up. Oh, it's not like he doesn't have ambition, but he wants his goal fair and square; he wants what he can't have, but won't bend the rules to get them. And even if he did agree to the plan, there would be too much suspicion. But Dunczilla and sons, unprotected, in our own home, with MacJav fourth in line—why not strike now? Heck, I'm not afraid. Not if the fates deem the endeavor just.

[Enter MACJAV]

Oh, there's the little hero himself. I got a letter saying your Glamushroom evolved into a Fireflowdor. I hope you didn't press B.

MACJAV:
The king is coming here tonight.

LADY MACJAV:
Wow, you don't say? It's almost as if that's the fifth time today I've been told that!

MACJAV:
Why did you invite them? There is not enough time to prepare the castle for a dozen guests.

LADY MACJAV:
I thought you invited them?

MACJAV:
Huh, strange. Must have been one of the servants, then. Well, he is staying until tomorrow morning.

LADY MACJAV:
Oh, you know as well as I do that that day will never come. Come on, the witches, right?

MACJAV:
What do you mean?

LADY MACJAV:
Your face betrays you. Banquoshi was right in his letter, yes, something is bothering you. Is it lightheadedness from your new title? Are you having another one of your hallucinations? Do you just have indigestion? Or this time, is it more sinister? The dangerous, treasonous kind of sinister?

MACJAV:
Are you implying that I am contemplating murder of the king?

LADY MACJAV:
Don't lie to me, my husband. You know you've been at least mulling it over.

MACJAV:
Well, sigh, I suppose. It was all a rush, and I don't remember too much of it. Banquoshi must have told you about the witches. They eerily predicated my new title, and that I would soon become king. But when Dunczilla named MCDalcolm his heir; well, I considered things no sane man would ever consider. I must have what I cannot have, but I would have not what would I would have wouldly....well, you get the point. Or not.

LADY MACBETH:
Why keep playing the wallflower, then? You have the strength, the will, the motive, and the ambition to kill the king, so why not get it over with? The royal family trusts you more than they trust anyone else; use that trust against them! Bear welcome to them when they come, and hide behind a mask of friendliness, while we both secretly plan to make your royal dreams manifest. I'll handle the preparations for tonight's feast, to let your mind stew it over.

MACJAV:
I'm not agreeing to anything just yet. Let us speak more about this at a later time, please? The king is almost here, and we would not want to do anything rash in the heat of the moment.

LADY MACBETH:
Fine. But make yourself look clear. Anxiousness will arouse suspicion.

[Exit MACJAV and LADY MACJAV; Enter the WITCHES]

EDOFENRIR:
Did you really have to invite everyone here, Anton? Wouldn't it be easier to extort MacJav alone?

ANTON:
The fortune telling trick is done for, I'm telling you. But there's still time for us to play a game of "Royal Murder Mystery!" This time with real murder!

EDOFENRIR:
But did you have to bring the king?

ANTON:
Not bring the king, as if! That's the best part! And it ties back to the original ploy too: MacJav is a greedy guy, and Mason told the lug he would be king someday. Put two and two together. And when he kills the king, who will be the first suspect? Certainly not our "bwave widdle hewo"! If and when he is crowned, he'll be putty in our hands!

MASON:
We'll sure be making history tonight, won't we?

[Enter Freakworld.]

FREAKWORLD:
Hey, I found those beds you were looking fo—

MASON:
Wait, who are you?

FREAKWORLD:
I was just about to ask you! What are these three hags doing in Invernegg?

ANTON:
[To witches] Dang, the servants are on to us. Quick, Edo, hide him before he squeals!

[EDOFENRIR picks up FREAKWORLD and carries him offstage. MASON and ANTON follow.]