Sinking Barstools, Keening Witches and Clashing Titans

Gak, I say, gak! I've been working far too much. So, as you can imagine, I welcomed the chance to have the resident Nosy Nadir Like Figure confuse me, attempt to talk me into a phone booth, and in general just be Ben. Recently he was kind enough to invite me to the Magic Castle, which is a place best described by simply saying that Ben feels very at home there.

I should have known it was going to be a bit out of the ordinary from the beginning. (Actually, I should have known sooner. Ben calls you and asks you if you'd like to go to a place where you get in my telling an owl "open sesame," and you don't prepare yourself for a normal night.) My mother shows up in my room with my Mistress Ford blouse, my long blue skirt and what seemed to be some sort of white crocheted hairnet with a large turqoise pin that had paint flaking off of it in long strings of what appeared to be lead based material.

"Here, wear this!"

"What? I'd look like a reject from the Rennasiance fair casting call. Ben'd never let me live it down."

I eventually ended up all in light colors, which for me, is very, very strange. I didn't even have a black trenchcoat! Shocking. And I've got a nice one lying around, too. . .it's new, and very black and coat-ish. (There really aren't a huge amount of varieties of trenchcoat. Though I do have a knitted one.)

Erika: Yes, I'm not at all pleased. This is a disgrace.

Ely: I thought we looked nice!

Erika: You think everything is nice!

Ely: (Carlotta voice.) Yes, I do. (Get the reference, get a. . .well, I'm fresh out of muffins. You'll get the giant iguana of doom. This I can actually give you. I have him right here. He lives on top of the computer.)

Kat: You two! Shut up, or I will poke you with the giant iguana of doom.

Max: How do you poke with an iguana? And, for that matter, a purple stuffed iguana? (Yes it is a purple stuffed iguana. I have it on top of my computer, yes. -Long silence- What?

Ben: I think it's in rigor mortis.

Erik and Nadir: Ah.

Moving on. Ben, of course, was head to toe in black. I swear to God this was just to spite me, wasn't it?

And now, because every detail of our conversation and experience at the castle can't possibly entertain everyone - Ben and I, definitely, because it happened to us - but not everyone, I will only say that Ben and I talked to each other like Ben and I usually talk to each other. In other words, like the dialouge between Nadir and Erik in Kay's "Phantom." Only half the time I'm not sure which of us is which.

We will return to the blog after a brief interlude, and some light music.

Max: Irma, can you play Phantom of the Opera?

(Irma, who is the new accompanist for the blog, acts accordingly.)

Erik: (Twitches.) Why is she playing. . .the cursed song?

Raoul: I like this song!

Kat: I don't really mind this song, I mean, providing the right person sings it. Oh, Nadir, don't look so sulky. . .I'm sure they'll put you in the musical someday. Go comfort him, Max, there's a dear.

Max: It's all right, at least your party isn't in the minority in Congress.

Nadir: (Looks blankly at him.) In Persia, the shah could have me killed on a whim if I didn't cook his killer shrimp spicy enough. Don't tell me about tough goverment.

Raoul and Christine: Say you'll share with me, one love, one life time, etc., etc., tralala.

Erik: (Breaks down sobbing.)

Ben: (Gingerly pats.)

Ely: I like this song! (Dances.)

Kat: Oy vey.

Erika: (Hums, looking awkwardly at the ceiling. She's very uncomfortable for some reason.)

Willy Wonka: It takes many days to reach Medusa's lair. But we have. . .we have. . .a flying horse!

Ben: You're really weird.

All: (Stare.) What just happened to the usual octave Ben's voice is at? And what's with the top hat? And the burgundy waistcoat?

Willy Wonka: And what a handsome devil you are, Mr. Wonka.

Ben: (Rueful look.) This is revenge for the barstool, isn't it?

Kat: Yes. (Maniacal laughter.)

But, to move on. . .Kat's voice is currently shot so she can't talk too much. She's been screaming a lot as a prophetic witch in Macbeth, and also has a scene where she changes from a woman to a man, so her voice, to put it bluntly, hurts like Hades. She will now stop talking in third person. Hopefully.

My creativity is exhausted!

I remain, gentlemen, your faithful and obedient servant,

J.G.